The Very Private Secretary
by Alan West
(BH-7401)


CHAPTER ONE 

Sally Parker was repeating the two words when she got out of bed. They 
sounded strange and unfamiliar, tripping off her tongue with an ululating 
sound that was almost a parody of children playing games. 

"Lobby Logic," she said. "Lobby Logic." 

Looking at her reflection in the glass over her mirror, she saw a 
well-formed girl wearing bra and panties. Jutting firm breasts strained 
firmly against the bra containing them. Her belly looked soft and inviting, 
swelling gently over the brief panties. Her thighs were round and firmly 
packed, and her brilliant blue eyes followed them down to the long graceful 
lines of her legs. She half-turned to see her slender shoulders and back 
curving in to her narrow waist and then flaring out to her rounded buttocks. 
There was nothing juvenile about her image in the glass. She knew she 
attracted attention from all who saw her, whether in motion or still. The 
gamin quality was there in her face, something audacious, fresh and 
sparkling. 

It's only the name of the place, she reminded herself. 

Lobby Logic. 

It was the name of a local foundation with its singular purpose that of 
aiding the consumer, the public at large, the man in the street, the 
housewife bedevilled by rising costs, and all befuddled by the entrapments 
of living. Quality merchandise that didn't work. Service that goaded them to 
insane rages. Quantity that varied with each purchase. Prices that seemed 
arranged and designed to be hopelessly out of sight. Shortages which seemed 
to exist for no other reason than to increase product prices, making the 
rare out what was in other times the commonplace. 

Lobby Logic was formed to combat these ills. It was new and a growing force, 
aligned with the ill-equipped public in its fight for survival. The man who 
headed it and gave it the spark and dimension it needed was a brilliant 
young lawyer. 

Sally mouthed his name now as she adjusted her dress and applied lipstick. 
Brian Barton. Brian Barton. 

Lobby Logic and Brian Barton. Without one, there could not have been the 
other. They were inseparably linked in time and purpose. And she reminded 
herself happily, she was now employed by the same organization, given a 
chance to help this philanthropic cause in its one-sided fight. But also, 
she knew it gave her a chance to see the man whose every move reminded her 
of a knight. 

Her boss. Brian Barton. 

Sighing, she turned from the mirror, picked up her purse and hurried from 
her apartment to go to work. 

Driving downtown in her car, she had ample time to reflect on the strange 
quirk of destiny that had led her from her avowed path of a dedicated social 
worker, dealing with individuals, to her present position of secretary for 
the Lobby Logic foundation which concerned itself with millions of people 
daily. 

It was the individual, she had found out, who was the most dangerous. Young 
and innocent, fresh out of college, her training in sociology had not 
prepared her for the odd human whom she had sought to help, who too often 
tried to help himself instead to what-ever he could attain of Sally Parker. 

The poverty areas contained great numbers of the destitute 'and she had been 
obliged to call on as many as she could each day. Her office in San 
Francisco was a focal point for many and her calls were a routine follow-up 
pursued by office policy with herself as one of their many social 
investigators. 

Brushing her dark hair back now as she rode the freeway, she recalled the 
last encounter. The man of the household was unemployed. His wife had a 
night job and when Sally called early one morning, the man had opened the 
door to let her in. Hardly a moment. elapsed before he was at her. 

All she had asked, she recalled, was the nominally abstract question: "How 
are you feeling today, Mr. Brown?" 

The husky man had thought it over briefly. Then, to her surprise, he had 
yanked her forward. One arm went around her back and grabbed at her 
buttocks. The other thrust up inside and a powerful hand was at her breasts. 

"This is the way I like to feel," he said laconically. "One hand holding a 
nice young tit, the other, grabbing a good solid piece of ass." 

She tried to pull away. He was too strong and he smiled as he held her 
pinned tightly to him with his left hand on her buttock while his right 
boldly stroked and squeezed her breasts. His hand was so large that he was 
able to fondle both her breasts simultaneously. Then, while she gasped in 
helpless horror, he opened the buttons of her blouse and slipped his big 
hand inside. Her breasts were pulled out and roughly raped by his rough 
hand, and to still her protest he ducked his head and fastened his hot mouth 
on hers. 

Sally was squirming then, trying to break out of his embrace when he 
suddenly shifted his hands. With one powerful sudden movement, they went to 
her shoulders and he had her blouse thrust back off her shoulders. Quickly, 
he followed up by unsnapping her bra and then both her breasts were free and 
naked in his huge hands. 

She drew her head back to scream and quickly he put one hand to her throat. 
The threat to her life made her gasp and she subsided weakly. "That's 
smarter," he said grinning. "Now let's both of us try to have some fun outta 
this visit,. and don't make any noise or I'll have to break your pretty 
neck." 

He squeezed and massaged her breasts, letting his rough hands rasp across 
her pink nipples. To her horror and dismay she felt them keening erect under 
his knowing fingers. 

This is ridiculous, she thought, struggling silently and helplessly in the 
man's grasp. I'm only here on an official call to help this man secure 
employment or welfare benefits. Why is he taking advantage of me? 

Feeling the hard thrust originating between his legs, she knew the reason. 
If she needed more, she could scent his animal passion rising, his beer 
breath, feel his hungry hands kneading her soft flesh, squeezing her 
breasts, pulling at her nipples. 

And now, to her dismay and chagrin, she was responding like any animal in 
heat. Her breasts warmed by his grasping hands, her nipples erecting, the 
juices in her loins beginning to loosen, moistening her vagina 
precipitously. Her legs began to tremble and she could feel her heart 
hammering in her fear. 

She should have checked first, she knew. Ascertained at what. hour his wife 
left for work. She had read the report and only knew the surface statistics: 
Husband, unemployed; wife, part-time work; no children. 

The reports weren't nearly enough, she thought fiercely. They didn't go into 
irrational behavior, the sudden danger of. aroused lust. Were there 
neighbors? she wondered. And if so, on this squalid block in the poverty 
area of the city, how could she call them for help; and further, would they 
respond? No, she thought hopelessly, nobody would interfere. They would say 
I walked willingly into the man's house. That I'm no child and should have 
known better. 

The man's name was Luke Brown, his age listed as forty. Nearly double her 
age and she had no way of dealing with him except on his own terms. Whatever 
they were, she could only hope they were not brutal. Obviously he was a 
sexual maniac and she had covered the subject of rogue males in her college 
courses on abnormal behavior. There were too many case histories for her to 
remember in detail, but the dominant pattern running through them all was 
gratification to be secured at any cost. 

Sally felt herself being forced steadily back now until she felt something 
hard at the back of her knees. She knew it to be the sofa only microseconds 
before she was thrust backward. His hands forced her shoulders down and she 
was sitting suddenly pinned directly in front of him. His next movement was 
not as fast but she saw his fingers working at his pants zipper. Almost 
hypnotized, she watched his big hairy hand disappear inside the cloth and 
when it reappeared it was holding something huge and thick, and she could 
scent the acrid pungency of his penis close now to her face. 

One hand was at the back of her head now clutching her hair. Inexorably she 
was forced forward until his hard organ brushed her skin. It felt hot, 
burning, shaming her. 

"You know what I want," he growled hoarsely. "Open your mouth and start 
sucking. You're supposed to be a social worker, right? Well, get to work and 
suck my cock. Let's go." 

She had no choice but to do as he said, she knew. He was too strong for her 
to fight. If she resisted, her life could be in danger. 

Sally could only hope to satisfy him now, hope to do the job he wanted 
performed, suck and lick at his awesomely huge appendage in some proficient 
manner so that he would orgasm. After that, she supposed, his lust would be 
diminished, and there was the chance he would let her go. 

His hand at the back of her head gave her no choice now, forcing her to do 
his bidding. She opened her mouth and her tongue flicked out to lick his 
penile shaft. She heard him groan with pleasure and he thrust closer to her, 
inserting more of his penis into her mouth. His coronal ridge was thick and 
she felt it against the roof of her mouth. Her lips tightened as she slid 
her mouth along his glans. She felt him stiffen and quiver and thought she 
was pleasing him now. 

"Come on," he said roughly. "Do a good job now. Hold my balls, too. Didn't 
they teach you nothin' in college?" 

His free hand loosened his shorts and he thrust his testicles forward and at 
the same time grabbed her hand and forced it around his scrotum. She felt 
the huge ball of his ravenous manhood and squeezed, and he patted the back 
of her head. 

"That's the way. Now go on. Suck. Eat my cock." 

Numbly, she continued sucking, taking more and more of his distended and 
engorged organ deep into her mouth. At the same ;time, she played with his 
balls, feeling his left one slightly lower than his right. As he gasped, she 
was appalled to find herself becoming excited, liking what she was doing. 

There was no way she could avoid becoming caught up now in her lascivious 
performance. She took more and more of. his cock into her mouth and gently 
squeezed his testicles, feeling them. heavy, huge in her hand. She raised 
the other hand now to hold his penis, using both hands as she stimulated him 
to further excitement, feeling herself moistening more and more with each 
thrust. 

His free hand now caressed her breast, rubbing roughly against her skin, 
enflaming her unwanted but aroused passion. Her head dipped forward and back 
as she sucked, her lips tightening to complete each thrust, loosening 
slightly to begin the return glide. Her legs felt weak, trembling as she 
sensed his approaching orgasm. 

Brown was breathing harder. His legs became stiff and his muscles were like 
thick logs. The organ in her mouth became thicker too, enlarging second by 
second until it almost strangled her, filling her throat with its questing 
hard passion. 

Suddenly as her tongue flicked to the top of it, finding the very sensitive 
urethral meatus, he groaned and she felt the hot jetlike force of his juices 
flooding her throat. He held her pinned against his pulsating organ as he 
came in a series of long hard thrusts, each one penetrating deeper until she 
thought she would choke. 

Then she was sucking at the wetness of his penis and she realized suddenly 
her act was unbidden. She had come to it naturally, caught up in .her own 
lust! 

He groaned his pleasure. "That'ta girl. Suck me off!" 

She licked his penis head, the glans and shaft clean of the glistening 
semen, and then his hand was at her throat and she knew what was expected of 
her. She swallowed hard, feeling it go smoothly down her throat, like some 
kind of thick chalky milk, and felt him pat her head again as if in 
approval. 

Sally was finished then and looked up at him expecting tp see him pacified 
and amenable to reason. Instead she saw the hot glow in his eyes as they 
widened, understanding what she was thinking. 

"Oh, it ain't over yet, kid," he said, smiling. "You got to have a nice 
sweet pussy at your age, and I'd be a real dope to pass up a chance at it 
now, especially when I got you all heated up and steaming." 

Her mouth gaped and she struggled to find the words she needed to get free. 
But his huge weight was suddenly upon her. She felt herself pushed flat on 
the sofa and then he was at her, his hot hands under her skirt, pulling at 
her panties. He got them down only a few inches as she squirmed and then his 
hand seized her mound. His fingers squeezed at her vulva, slipped inside her 
labial lips and she felt herself moistening in his hand. 

Brown pulled her panties off then, roughly, and spread her legs wide. She 
was not surprised at his next movement when his head dipped and his hot 
mouth pressed against her love spot. She heard him sigh with satisfaction. 
"Ah! Juicy!" 

Dimly she heard herself sigh against her will as his mouth and tongue found 
her erogenous surfaces, questing with his tongue against her vaginal 
orifice, then slipping to her clitoral glans. She groaned and rocked as he 
licked and ate at her private parts, and he held her tighter and pressed his 
face deeper inside her soft white thighs. She began to feel thrills 
cascading throughout her body. Her vagina became hot and moist and demanding 
and she moved her hips and began to moan as the demanding man moved, closer 
and laved at her vulva. 

One hand reached underneath her buttocks and played with her anal crevice 
and when his finger inserted itself, she felt undeniable pleasure. Her loins 
were glistening now with perspiration and she found herself gradually 
becoming overpowered by her rising erotic sensations. 

She felt the tide build up inside her and then as it burst, she clutched 
helplessly at his head and held him fast to her, looping her legs outward 
and around him. Trapped inside her lovely thighs, the man sucked and licked 
at her as Sally's orgasms rocked her with shattering force. She cried out as 
she spasmed convulsively, and then again; and when she was sated, she lay 
still, quivering helplessly. 

"Not bad," the man grunted. "I can see you ain't the cold type of bitch they 
usually send around. Now turn over, kid. I got another surprise for ya 
you'll like." 

"Oh, please!" she cried. "Must we, Mr. Brown? Haven't you done enough?" 

"Are you kidding?" he said derisively. "You think I'm passing up a beautiful 
piece of ass like you? I'd have to be out of my mind." 

He rolled her over as easily as if she were a child. Protesting would do her 
little good, she knew, and so she merely lay limp, letting herself. be 
manipulated. She was frightened now, but curious too. That was the trouble. 

Sally remembered growing up with her brother Larry and the things Larry had 
persuaded her to do while they were both young. The harmless sex play of 
innocents, she had often said when recalling them to mind. They had found 
the time for these adventures after school when their parents were away at 
work. 

Masturbating him. It hadn't taken long for Larry to persuade her to jerk him 
off. It had been fun really. And it had all stemmed from her own curiosity. 
Seeing him through the partly open door of the bedroom one afternoon after 
school, sitting hunched over on his bed, making heavy breathing noises. The 
strange whap-whapping sound she could not understand. And when she had 
tiptoed in to make of it what she could, he was already at the finishing 
stages, coming in fascinating spurting gobs all over the floor. 

"What's that you're doing?" she had asked. And that innocent question 
stemming from ignorance had started it all. 

Her brother was fourteen to her eleven, not too much older but enough to 
make the difference as he had already begun investigating the mystery of his 
being. She had no such yearning. But under Larry's tutelage and inquiring 
mind, she had gone past the barriers of her own shyness. He let her pump his 
dick for a long time, teaching her the many ways he already knew to get the 
best out of the hand job. She had proved an apt pupil, and after having done 
him in all the possible ways, she was induced to let him do her. 

At first, he had played around her little box with his hand and fingered 
her. She had been amazed at the strange sensations that resulted. And when 
at last Larry had been able to bring her to her first clitoral climax, she 
had wept with the sheer ecstasy of the experience. 

They rolled together on the large bed for hours after school stark naked. 
One day she permitted him to kiss her "down there" and from. that time on, 
it had become the first part of their daily ritual of lovemaking. He had 
kissed and sucked her into too many orgasms eventually for her to deny him 
the equal pleasure of sucking him off. And from that first head job on her 
brother, she had learned all she ever ' needed to know to make any man 
happy. He had come into her mouth in time, although she had been afraid of 
that at first, since, to her untutored mind, that alone would have made her 
pregnant. She had been persuaded in time that this was an ignorant notion, 
and from that point on she had developed her skill as an accomplished 
cocksucker. 

By the time she was thirteen, Sally had tried all the positions with her 
brother, save one. The one Luke Brown was introducing her to now this 
morning in the morning light of his living room in a shabby house on Del Amo 
Street in San Francisco. 

It was the one position she had resisted doing with her older brother. They 
had struggled on the bed while he had tried to overcome her, and penetrate 
her from the rear. But she had always been able to twist away in time and 
his long thin rod had been wasted. Fretfully, he would then mount her and 
slide it along the valley of her smooth buttocks to come eventually outside 
her. Dry fucking, Larry called that. But although he had been able to insert 
his penis from the rear position, it had only been into the usual jelly box 
of her vagina where it had. for these formative tender years found a 
receptive and warm home. 

Now when this rough stranger had rolled her over, her first instinct to 
struggle and shy away was suddenly tempered, by the thought that perhaps 
with this new experience, she would at last know the mystery of the rear 
penetration. 

"I'll give ya a break," Brown said. "I'll smear some Vaseline on it so it 
won't hurt." 

She grimaced as she lay waiting, dreading the pain she had always expected. 
But the dark submerged part of her was excited in anticipation. Larry had 
never suggested Vaseline. Apparently Brown was no beginner to this method 
and she would get the benefit of his experience. 

She did cry out once when he first penetrated her with his huge organ, but 
Brown was quick about grabbing her breasts and fondling them roughly from 
the rear, making her forget the initial searing pain of his thrust. 

He played more with her breasts lulling her off guard, not moving inside any 
deeper, and then when she was used to the strange, comforting fullness of 
his distended cock inside her ass, he reared back and plunged the shaft in 
hard. 

She screamed but then he began pumping quickly, and as she felt his huge 
engorged organ massage her inner walls, she became lost in the pleasure and 
excitement of it. The thought of being buggered now by a complete stranger 
also somehow added its strange erotic appeal. It was a little like being 
raped, she thought, although she had to admit she was now a willing 
participant. " 

Then as the man rammed her harder and harder from the rear, she found 
herself caught in the movement and began to move her hips and buttocks 
against his cock and balls to get the utmost out of the situation. She loved 
backing up against his body, feeling his balls flap as she hit them, and 
then the huge thickness of his prick was there to fill her deeper and deeper 
with ever lengthening thrusts until finally she heard him gasp. 

He began to play with her clit then with one hand, her breast and nipple 
caught in the other, and then when he suddenly heaved himself upon her and 
came, she was ready too and began her own bucking writhing movements, 
groaning her own pleasure. 

After that shameless display of her own eroticism, she could deny this rough 
stranger nothing that day. When he had finished with the buggering job, he 
was still alive and ready for more. This time she had helped him maintain 
his erection, holding . his cock and playing with his balls, and when he was 
fully erect and thick again, she mounted him as he sat on the edge of the 
sofa. 

Brown held her easily in his hands, gripping her by the full buttocks. He 
raised her and lowered her down, softly at first and with considerable 
restraint and gentleness. Then his passion and lust grew stronger and he 
stood up while still holding her on his cock, and with powerful arms he drew 
her back and then pulled her close to him. The movements increased 
,spasmodically, more urgently, and each time she was bounced hard upon his 
ramrod cock, she experienced new thrills. She was ready when he was and came 
in convulsive bursts that wracked her body. 

Sally remembered dressing later, too ashamed to wash in his wife's bathroom. 
It was only when she was at the door ready to go that he shook his head and 
asked the incredible question. "Hey, I nearly forgot. What did you want here 
anyway?" 

She shook her head now, driving off the freeway. She had a new job and a 
better one. No more would she be exposed to the lust of strangers. 

Nor her own, she thought. 

CHAPTER TWO 

At nine, she was seated at her desk in the nicely furnished office she used 
as secretary to Brian Barton. His office, adjacent to hers, was larger but 
the furnishings were simple and tasteful. Brian Barton was not an 
ostentatious man. He was a very dedicated public servant, working long 
grueling hours and sometimes without respite. This morning was one of the 
few Sally could remember, in the short time she had been with Lobby Logic, 
that Barton was not already hard at work at his desk when she came in. 

His hair was red and worn long but not shaggy: His eyes were a brilliant 
green and when he was disturbed or angry, they glittered like cold emeralds. 
His mouth was firm, his teeth white and regular. If it hadn't been for the 
dented nose he had thoroughly broken playing football at college, he might 
have been considered almost good-looking. 

But Brian Barton's looks were not important. It was a combination of his 
brain and fighting instinct. His refusal to give in to trying, impossible 
circumstances. 

It was an almost incredible series of circumstances that landed Sally into 
her position as Barton's secretary. His regular girl, after having been with 
him for five years, got married and quit. Her replacement was a sincerely 
dedicated girl but thin and high strung. Too much pressure, working overtime 
to keep up to advanced schedules, broke her delicate health, and she was 
forced to retire to some easier part-time job in the desert area near Palm 
Springs. Sally, who had left San Francisco for Los Angeles the year before 
and landed a job in the secretary pool, was handy one day near closing time 
when extra work was needed. 

"I'll do it and get it done in time," she had assured Barton. And when she 
had appeared with the thick sheaf of correspondence in her hands at the 
appointed hour, Barton had been impressed and grateful. 

He explained his pressing need for a secretary who had no outside ties, who 
could work late when the situation demanded it, and one who was 
close-mouthed. There were secrets, he explained, about his organization, and 
too many people were only too anxious to find out what Lobby Logic was about 
next. He explained the strange work of his foundation, factors she had known 
or cared little about when she had first applied for work. When she learned 
how dedicated Barton was, how difficult his task was to project the public 
interest from the ruthless overlords of some unscrupulous organizations, she 
wholeheartedly gave of herself to him. 

She had felt lost and powerless as a social worker, feeling herself a mere 
dot lost in seething masses of humanity. She had encountered those who 
needed help and yet due to some legal defects in the welfare machinery, she 
had been unable to help them. On the other hand, she had known of many who 
did not honestly deserve welfare payments and yet through cunning and 
deceptive practices had managed to achieve regular income from the state. 
Her last brush with the coarseness of the sullen man who had assaulted her 
in his own home had frightened her. It had not taken her long after that, 
once she had made up her mind that she was doing nobody any good, that she 
reluctantly left the hills and brisk winds of San Francisco for the more 
temperate climate of Los. Angeles. Sally also thought it a prudent move to 
prevent succumbing to libidinous temptations in the future; at least, on the 
job. 

With Barton and the ideas behind the organization that spelled Lobby Logic, 
she found herself part of a driving force. She started each day with zest 
and confidence, knowing that each day's work meant something, was never 
wasted. The lanky redhead Barton had been a lawyer and used that part of his 
back-ground efficiently. He had a strange almost mystical power of 
persuasion. Perhaps, she thought, it was due to his inflexible honesty. He 
was rigid in that respect, almost old-fashioned in his concepts when 
compared to the chicaneries of the current business world. Yet it was that 
same unflinching honesty and candor that had attracted help from many 
old-fashioned and wealthy people. 

In turn, they had recruited other diligent people to join Barton's staff. 
They were few in numbers, but they were sincere and intelligent, and all 
attracted to the unswerving and uncompromising honesty of Barton and his 
single-minded pursuit of his aims. 

There were other secretaries, other lawyers, a whole team of young research 
people, young urgency-minded loyal men and women who willingly gave over 
their personal lives to help Barton "stick it to them." 

They had found certain government offices guilty of carelessness in 
assessing supposedly reputable products. Barton had instituted suit against 
them and won. He had uncovered evidence of malfeasance in office, and 
producing evidence again in court, had won and seen himself vindicated and 
the crooks evicted. 

Government was huge and sprawling and almost impossible to supervise. There 
were simply too many offices that somehow duplicated one anther's work. Too 
many incompetents who had been hired because of, political loyalties and the 
rewards given them were supposedly for helping to raise funds for office 
seekers. It was an old and familiar story in government, and the country was 
riddled with these fat cats who did nothing to justify their offices and 
responsibility to the public. 

Barton was trying to change it all. To rid the political world of the fakers 
and crooks and incompetents. It seemed an impossible joust, but like a 
knight he accepted the challenge. 

Yet, careful and intelligent as Brian Barton was, he had been guilty of one 
error of judgment that he could not erase; an error that would hang around 
his neck like a stone, coming back to haunt him at unlikely times. He had 
married when he was young, fresh out of school. Her name was Emma Worth, and 
although he did not know it at the time, he was to find out her father was 
one of the richest, most powerful men in the country. Emma was wealthy in 
her own right, and due to inherit many more millions. Her father was one of 
the major stockholders in the oil industry, holding a high executive 
position with one of the largest companies. 

When Brian had found out her ties to big business, he tried to disassociate 
himself from Emma, knowing already that his path in life would inevitably 
bring them into conflict. The oil barons were rich fat cats and contemptuous 
of the public and its environment. George Worth had already aroused some 
public antagonism with his rape of offshore drilling rights along the 
California coastline, and it was indeed this desecration of public land that 
had first launched Brian Barton into action against the ruthless oil barons. 

He and Emma were divorced, but she never forgave him for what she deemed the 
public pillorying of her father. She was to prove herself a deadly and 
unforgiving enemy, and she had unlimited means with which to pursue her 
undying vendetta with Brian, seeking to destroy him and his work forever. 

She had hired private detectives to spy on him and his work, to follow him 
constantly, keep him under continual surveillance. Her schooling had been 
realistic, and under the tutelage of her father and his hirelings, she had 
formed similar opinions. No man could remain honest and uncorrupt. Somewhere 
and sometime he would make an error, prove himself as human and fallible as 
the rest. And when Brian Barton somehow faltered and deviated from the path 
of honesty and scrupulousness he had chosen, Emma Worth would have the proof 
with which to humble him and bring him to his knees. The fact that he had 
willingly given her up, despite her wealth and considerable good looks, was 
added fuel for the avenging fire burning in her. He had dumped her as if she 
were a commonplace object, and Emma Worth could never forgive that. 

Every day she sent out her hired operatives to make their regular rounds 
sniffing at Barton's trail, and like bloodhounds they followed him scenting 
for whatever they could uncover. Their reports came in daily and Emma's 
files grew to lodge .in more and more filing cabinets. So far they had 
uncovered nothing of the "people's defender," but Emma calmly waited knowing 
the expose was inevitable, that every man could be tempted to err, and that 
time was on her side. 

Her force of private investigators was expanded. The 20 odd volunteers who 
worked for Barton were followed too,, and sometimes approached. If Barton 
had secrets, Emma knew, his people might reveal them for a price. There also 
were other ways she knew of to extort information. 

The interoffice phone rang in Sally's room. It was the receptionist at the 
front desk, Gail Trell. 

"Yes, Gail," Sally said. "What is it?" 

"A man here to see Mr. Barton. He says it's important that he see him 
immediately." 

"Did you tell him Mr. Barton is not in yet, Gail?" 

"I did, but I wasn't sure. You know how often he gets into his office, to 
work before I'm even at my desk." 

"Yes, and before me too, but I looked a while ago and he's not in. I imagine 
he'll call in. soon if he expects to be delayed much longer. Ask the man if 
he cares to wait or leave a number for Mr. Barton to call." 

"Just a sec," Gail said. In another moment, she came back on. "He says this 
is too important to wait on. If he can't see Mr. Barton perhaps he could see 
you? He won't tell me what it's about, Sally." 

"Hm. I suppose I could see him and relay his message to Brian. 'What's the. 
caller's name?" 

"Andrew Hocking." 

"Very well, Gail. Send him into my office." 

She hung up hoping this was an important matter for Brian's attention. There 
was no precedent in matters such as these. She knew she was required to use 
her own beat judgment. If a caller professed urgent business, then it made 
sense to see him in her capacity as private secretary. If the caller went 
away rebuffed, perhaps information he had to leave would be forever lost. 

A knock sounded at her door and it was opened. A husky light-haired man 
stood hulking in the doorway. Sally waved him in. "Mr. Hocking? I'm Sally 
Parker, Mr. Barton's secretary. Won't you come in and tell me what this is 
all about." 

He nodded gratefully and shut the door carefully behind him. He carried an 
attach case in one hand and approached her desk smiling, his free hand 
extended. "Miss Parker? Awfully nice of you to see me. I've been sitting 
outside cooling my heels. I know what I have will interest Mr. Barton." 

"He's really not in, Mr. Hocking, as you can see." She waved to Barton's 
office across the room from. hers, its door halfway open. The empty desk was 
clearly visible from their positions, but to her surprise the large blond 
man walked across the room, stepped across the threshold and stopped. He 
leaned inside craning his head. 

Sally felt annoyance for the man doubting her. "Are you quite satisfied?" 
she said. "I can assure you Mr. Barton isn't hiding under the rug." 

The man stepped back, smiling, a rueful expression softening his hard 
professional look. "Sorry. It wasn't that I didn't take your word, Miss 
Parker. But in my line of work we don't leave anything open to chance. 
Everything must be done by the individual to offset the laws of probability. 
In other words, I just had to see for myself." 

Sally smiled. "All right. Now can you tell me what this is all about? I 
assure you I'll bring it to Mr. Barton's immediate attention." 

The man stood at the other end of her desk, looking down at her, frowning. 
"You still expecting him?" 

Sally shrugged. "Any moment. I don't know what has delayed him this morning. 
But I would imagine that if he isn't here soon, that he'll call in and say 
when he will be." 

The man stood undecided, thinking, shaking his head. 

"Can't you tell me what it's about?" Sally said. He hesitated. "That's the 
trouble. I'm not sure." He tapped his black attach case several times. 
"This is awfully confidential. I'm just not sure if it would be safe to 
leave it with you." 

"That would be entirely up to you," Sally said. "All I can tell you is that 
it would be safe to the best of my ability. If you like, I could lock it in 
my desk drawer, or in the file cabinet." 

He chewed at his lip, thinking over her offer. "How about locking it in 
Barton's desk?" he asked. 

She shook her head. "I'm really sorry but his desk is private. He holds the 
only key." 

The man looked` surprised. "You mean to tell me that you're Barton's private 
secretary and that you don't have a spare key to his desk?" 

Sally nodded, reddening. "It's not that he doesn't trust me. It's office 
procedure." 

The blond man grinned. "Sure. I understand. I hear Barton runs a tight ship 
here." 

Sally nodded. "That's why people trust him. Now then, if you could tell me 
what this visit is all about, sir?" 

He looked down at the attach case on the desk and said suddenly, "Well, 
guess there's nothing else to do about it then but give it to you. I would 
have preferred dealing with Mr. Barton directly, you understand?" 

"Yea. Again, I'm sorry." 

"Okay." He turned the attach case around with the front opening facing her. 
His big hands went to the metal clasps. She leaned forward curious about 
what the man was going to show her. The metal snaps released the lock and 
the case opened. She was inches away from it when suddenly released fumes 
assaulted her nostrils. She saw Hocking mistily as the white cloud clung to 
her face. He had taken a step back and was holding a handkerchief to his 
face. Curious, she shook her head. 

Something went off somewhere inside her skull and she felt herself suddenly 
weak as if beginning to dissolve. Her head swam. She tried to say something 
but her throat was tight, constricted, unable to utter a sound. The fumes 
had a strange heavy odor, a sweet scented fragrance that she could not 
recognize. Her hands fell from the desk and she swayed dizzily on her chair. 

Numbly she watched the man suddenly take something from his pocket. He put 
it to his eye and aimed it. She thought she heard a click but wasn't 
certain. He made the snapping sound again and nodded as if satisfied. Then 
quickly he leaned across the desk to close the attach case. Again she 
looked up at him puzzled, wondering what was happening, feeling herself 
frozen, locked in her chair, unable to move or make a sound. 

The blond man walked around her desk. He was at her side then, and dumbly 
she watched him lean over her. His hand was doing something to her dress and 
then she saw that he had opened the zipper at the back and was pulling it 
down over her shoulders. He stopped to take a picture. Then he was near her 
again. She heard a faint snapping sound behind her and then the rustling of 
cloth against her skin. He was aiming his little camera again and she 
followed the angle of his aim and was shocked to see that her bra was gone, 
that her breasts were totally exposed and there was nothing she could do 
about it. 

She wanted to scream out, to get him out, but her brain was slow and 
sluggish. He took several more pictures of her sitting there with her naked 
breasts and then he stepped to her side again. She saw his hand drop to the 
front of his trousers. His thick fingers disappeared for a brief moment and 
when she saw them again they were holding something thick and long and 
pink-looking. She blinked and somehow it was in her hand. 

A part of her mind detached itself and told her that this was wrong. She 
felt it pulsing in her hand, becoming heavy and turgid. She looked dumbly at 
the organ, and then up again at her visitor and was surprised to see him 
with the bright metal object screwed in front of his eye again. Once more 
she heard the snapping sound and saw his fingers move up and down slowly. 

The man nodded and then moved clear. She never saw his hand descend but felt 
her head moved forward. She was powerless to resist and she was moved 
inexorably closer to the big thing he had protruding from the front of his 
opened pants. The man hit her with the palm of his hand across her mouth. 
Dumbly she opened it to complain and then somehow her face was forced 
forward again and this shocking big red thing was in her mouth. 

From far overhead she heard the snapping sound again. She wanted to move 
away from this strange thing filling her mouth but didn't know exactly why. 
It felt soft and yet had a warm hardness about it. Instinctively she ran her 
tongue along it trying to find her swollen lips and she heard the snapping 
sound again. The thing in her mouth wavered for a moment, then was drawn 
back and thrust forward deeper into her mouth. She thought she was being 
strangled by some heavy object but yet somehow her throat was able to adjust 
and to contain it. The movement of it in her mouth became hurried and the 
thrusts deeper. She felt a hand at her breasts but could not look up. 

Then her head was grasped firmly and she felt the long thick object inside 
her mouth suddenly thrust its deepest. At the same time, something hot and 
liquid jetted inside her mouth. She tasted it and it seemed familiar. 
Something wet and soft with a strange odor and texture and she wondered 
dimly what it was. A man sounded as if he were groaning. 

Then it was out of her mouth and she was being forced to bob her head and to 
lick at it with her mouth and tongue. She heard the snapping clicks again. 

Then she was suddenly jerked out of her chair and she felt herself being 
carried across the room. Her skirt was lifted and she felt the chill, 
morning air at her private parts between her legs. 

When. she found herself sitting again, she noticed with great surprise that 
she was not at her desk any more. This was another desk and she was sitting 
on it, and as she stared surprised, she noticed without reacting that her 
skirt was above her hips and her panties were gone: She stared stupidly down 
at her bushy mound and felt her legs being pulled apart. She looked up 
puzzled and saw the blond man again. He was stooping forward and holding 
that thing in front of his eye again. 

This isn't my office, something inside her said. This is Brian's office. I'm 
not supposed to be sitting here on his desk and especially not with my bare 
ass on it. 

The glass surface felt cold on her akin and she wondered what she was doing 
there. 

The blond man took several more pictures and then she was sitting in a chair 
that did not seem to be hers. Again the man took the thick thing out of his 
trousers and put it into her mouth. She was forced to hold still while he 
made the snapping sounds again. Then he made her suck at it again and she 
felt it growing bigger once more and hardening in her mouth. 

Sally was wondering if it was all going to happen again and if it would 
spurt and make that strange' softness in her mouth again, when suddenly she 
felt it jerk inside her mouth. 

She looked up and saw the man suddenly turn and look over his shoulder. 
Behind him, she saw a tall angular man with red hair and blazing green eyes. 
The man looked very familiar but she couldn't recall his name. 

The redheaded man reached out and grabbed the blond man by one arm and swung 
him aside. She saw the redheaded man who looked familiar draw one arm back. 
When it came forward it came with lightning speed. It wets too fast for her 
to see but she heard the sickening crunch as it landed, and then the big 
blond man was hurtling across the room with a strange expression on his 
face. The redheaded man came after him again and picked him up and slammed 
him against the wall. 

The blond man sagged and something hit him squarely in the face with a 
splatting sound and red stuff poured in a thick stream from his nose. 

Then Barton was shaking her, asking her what happened, telling her to pull 
herself together, opening. windows. 

He was at the small basin in his private bathroom getting water for a 
compress for her head when the blond man got off the floor. He staggered to 
his feet, looked wildly and dazedly around, and then lurched out of the 
room. She heard the sound of running feet and the slamming of doors and 
voices raised. 

When she recovered, Barton had finished buttoning her dress. She looked down 
and saw with surprise her bra in his hand. He stared, looked embarrassed and 
finally grinned. 

"Sorry, Sally, but I didn't have the guts to put it back on myself. Was 
afraid you might come to suddenly and wonder what your friendly boss was up 
to." 

He had given her a drink to bring her to and suddenly it all passed again 
through her mind. She shook her head dazed. 

His hand comforted her. "Something in his attach case drugged you. An army 
nerve gas. It was easy for him then to strip you, have you do whatever he 
wanted so he could take his pictures." 

"Pictures?" she echoed dazed. 

Barton nodded. "Some kind of photographic evidence to be used against me. 
Showing how I treat my office help to free sex during office hours. I 
imagine Emma sent him." 

She stared up at him shame-faced. 

CHAPTER THREE 

"Hocking used to be a good man for the CIA," Brian told her later. "He got 
busted for too many raw undercover acts; like this one, for example. Since 
then, he's done work for a lot of companies, breaking and entering, illegal 
things. All under the guise of securing evidence of the nature his employer 
needs. He's used a variety of other names, too. He's been caught before 
however, and he'll be caught up with again. And if I ever get my hands on 
him again --" 

Brian crashed one fist into the other, leaving no doubt in Sally's mind as 
to his future intentions toward the agent Emma had sent. She questioned 
Brian's certainty in this matter. "Oh, sure," he said. "It has to be Emma. 
Who else but somebody with her kind of twisted mind would hire a man like 
Hocking who has no moral sense at all. He's a cheap predator and it takes 
another like him to get the whole thing rolling." 

Her face flushed. She couldn't be sure exactly what Brian had seen when he 
entered his office earlier. 

Expecting to be judged and scolded by Brian for what had occurred, she was 
surprised to find him apologetic instead. 

"I can't begin to tell you how sorry I am this happened to you," he said 
falteringly. "I should have warned you that Emma would stop at nothing to 
ruin me, and even if I had, you would never have imagined something of this 
nature would have taken place. 

"We can't afford security guards here," he continued, "and I couldn't blame 
you if you wanted to leave after this nasty affair. I'm only grateful that 
you haven't been hurt physically and I can only hope that it hasn't been too 
bad for you traumatically." 

"I'll get over it, I suppose," she said. 

"Yes, I'm sure you will," he said. "But. it's very bad for me when somebody 
working for my office has to pay for my personal creed. I can't guarantee 
you that this won't happen again. In fact, it would be safer to assume that 
it will happen, over and again. In many different ways, ways that are really 
unpredictable, Sally. You'll simply have to be on your guard at all times if 
you want to keep working for me. That means, at your own home as well as 
here." 

Brian began to pace the room. "They want incriminating evidence against me, 
something to weaken my image with the public. They'll try to use the 
pictures Hocking took, perhaps superimpose other shots of my office to make 
it appear you and I were having a sexual orgy." 

He spoke with her a while longer, trying to get her anxieties allayed. "I 
never should have let him get away," he said. 

But she remembered that Hocking had managed to get off the floor and run out 
only because Brian had gone to the washroom for the compress for her. His 
first thought had been to protect her. Perhaps a more callous or brutal man 
would have gone for Hocking's throat at the expense of the victim. She 
managed to say finally, "It wasn't your fault for letting him get away. It 
was mine for letting him fool me into sticking my nose into that attach 
case when he opened it. Naturally I never expected anything like a cylinder 
of gas exploding." 

Brian said soothingly, "Of course not. Nobody would." 

She wanted to ask him exactly what he had seen when he came in. Her memory 
was vague but she had a general idea of what Hocking had been up to. She 
remembered that Brian had zipped her dress up and later handed her her bra. 
She had also remembered the cool glass of hills. desk top against her bare 
skin. Her panties were lying on the floor against his chair and she wondered 
if Brian would have tried to slip them on her if she hadn't grabbed for them 
first when she recovered. 

Perhaps he had seen them lying there and could not bring himself to do 
anything about it. It would have been too personal for Brian Barton to 
venture. 

How would all this affect their relationship? she had to wonder. Brian 
couldn't afford a scandal, that was obvious. Would he permit her to continue 
working as his personal secretary now that he knew how easily she could be 
fooled and coerced into dangerous sexual attitudes? 

Her mind flew back to another time. 

Uncle Ed was her mother's brother, a big burly man with a hearty laugh and a 
tremendous appetite. She remembered his capacity for food when he visited 
them, and how he astonished her family with it. Uncle Ed was good-natured, 
fun to be with, and he always brought presents whenever he came to town. 

Then there was the time when she was twelve, and she was alone in the house 
doing her homework. Larry her brother was off somewhere playing ball after 
school. Her mother had gone to a meeting. Her dad was off at the plant. The 
doorbell rang and when she opened the door she was surprised to see the big 
genial man standing there, suitcase in one hand. 

She let him in, greeted him with her usual show of affection, kissing him 
lightly. He gave her his customary bear hug, holding her tightly, laughing 
while he rumpled her hair, patting her plump back-side. 

He set the suitcase down in the living room. "Where is everybody?" he asked. 

She explained and when he looked disappointed, she said they all would be 
home in a few hours. Uncle Ed looked at his watch, shook his head, and said 
he should have phoned. 

Seemingly distracted, he wandered around the house. She went back to her 
homework and when he came downstairs again, he came closer to watch her. He 
stood silently over her for a while and she wondered if older men like Uncle 
Ed had anything against the short miniskirt she was wearing. 

"Hey, you're growing up," he said laughing and she smiled, not sure of what 
he meant. 

She remembered having trouble that day with her math and when she frowned, 
Uncle Ed asked her what was wrong. When she explained, he laughed easily and 
said not to worry. He patted the sofa with one hand and told her to sit down 
and they would work the problem out together. 

When she did, Uncle Ed had somehow shifted his position and she found 
herself sitting on his lap. "Oh, I'm sorry," she said, trying to jump up. 

"It's okay," he said laughing. "Might be better to work it out this way. I 
can look over your shoulder." 

She went back to her problem and found his lap comfortable. His big hands 
shifted to a position under her knees and once he bounced her up and she 
gasped in surprise. When she came down again, Uncle Ed's hands were higher 
on her thighs under her short skirt. He looked studiously down over her 
shoulder as she made marks with her pencil, and his hands began to stroke 
her, slipping inside her thighs eventually and going higher and higher. She 
felt soothed by what he was doing, liking the warmth of his body against 
hers. 

She couldn't remember exactly when his hands shifted to her breasts. He had 
jiggled her forward playfully and then when she cried out that she was 
falling, he had reached out to grab her, and his hands went to her breasts 
and stayed there. He fondled them for a while, and played carelessly with 
her nipples, laughing heartily each time she jumped when tweaked. 

Gradually she became aware of something hard in the middle of Uncle Ed's 
lap. She tried shifting her position and he would let her, and then roll her 
back and hold her close. 

Then Uncle Ed asked her if she was ticklish and when she said she wasn't 
sure, he tried to find out. She was out of control within seconds, laughing 
helplessly at each new sensitive spot he touched. She was rolled helplessly 
over his lap when suddenly she felt him make a lurching move and the next 
thing she remembered was being tilted back and Uncle Ed removing her little 
white panties. 

He laughed uproariously. "Mind if ,I try these on?" 

She didn't know what to say at first. Then she shrugged. "They'll never fit 
you, Uncle Ed. They're much too small." 

"They are? Well, let's see." 

Her eyes widened as he jumped to his feet and loosened his belt. Then he was 
stepping out of his shoes and his trousers, and finally his shorts. She saw 
his big thing waving between his heavy legs. It was so much bigger than her 
brother's, thicker and longer, and his testicles looked enormous. He held 
her panties up to his front and squinted his little blue eyes. 

He shook his head. "Hm, I dunno, Sally. Maybe you're right. Guess you'll 
have to help me try them on." 

When he handed her the panties, she didn't know what he expected her to do. 
He stepped closer and lifted one leg as if to step into them. But he wavered 
and lost his balance somehow. He tumbled forward and suddenly she had to 
reach out to atop him from falling on her. To her surprise, somehow his 
large thing was in her hand, feeling so heavy and warm. 

She felt it pulsing strongly in her hand and looked up at her uncle. He 
shrugged, smiling. "Come to think of it, I forgot your regular present this 
trip. I guess this will have to do for now." 

He moved back and forth and she felt his penis gliding between her fingers. 
He winced at one time. Then he touched her lips. "How about that way? Then 
we can both enjoy your present." 

He seemed to take it for granted that she would know what to do. But she was 
afraid to act as if she had ever done this before and acted shy and 
uncertain. 

Uncle Ed sounded his booming laugh. "Nothing to it, Sally. Just pretend 
you're sucking and eating a big banana." 

That made it easier for her and she went to work at it, licking and sucking, 
pretending it was indeed a banana, and soon his large penis was distended 
and filling her hand and mouth. 

As her lips slid along his huge glistening staff, her uncle began to nod his 
head and moan his satisfaction. "Atta girl," he gasped. "You're doing fine. 
Don't be afraid to let it go all the way in. It's good for your mouth and 
throat." 

She took more of it in and still more, feeling it fill her mouth until it 
touched at the rear of her throat. 

"Good for your tonsils, too," Uncle Ed said. 

He placed one of her hands under his huge balls and said that would make it 
easier. She jiggled them in her hand and he groaned and told her that was 
the idea and to keep on with her licking and sucking. 

She was lost in her young passion for it now and she did as he said, moving 
her lips obediently along his big cock and feeling it tremble in her mouth, 
engorged with blood. When he suddenly gasped and came, she couldn't believe 
the tremendous gob of juice he sent into tier throat. It came at her like a 
river that had burst its dam and she was knocked back by his lunge. 

She thought it would please her uncle if she swallowed it and when she did, 
he nodded down at her pleased. "Good girl," he said. "A lot of vitamins in 
that stuff. You'll be healthy now. Good for your teeth and gums, all that 
calcium, you know." 

When she had finished, he sighed contentedly. But his huge staff remained 
large and erect. He looked down at her. 

He reached down for her hand and pulled her up. Then he put both his big 
hands around her bare ass. She felt his fingers tighten and shivered. Her 
dress was lifted and his big prick was squarely against her mound now, and 
she felt herself beginning to moisten between her thighs. 

Uncle Ed was, strong. He lifted her easily until her thighs went around his 
hips. Then he let her down easily and slowly until she felt his prick 
nuzzling at her vagina. He let her sink upon it slowly, moving her hips in a 
circular motion until finally she gasped, feeling it solid and hard inside 
her, like some huge' stick that had somehow invaded her most secret part. 

He bounce d her up and down on it then, at first slowly, and then when she 
had moistened enough with increasing speed. She cried out suddenly when her 
first orgasm came, taking her by surprise. Uncle Ed nodded and her hands 
went around his thick neck happily and he stayed with her, bouncing her up 
and down on his wet shaft until she came again and again. 

At her third orgasm, she felt him quiver and then again she felt his jetlike 
stream rushing into her. They clung to each other as if cemented together, 
and when he let her down she was dripping between her thighs. 

He picked her up again in his arms, holding her easily in a horizontal 
position. "We better take care of that upstairs, hon. The family might smell 
what's been going on and spoil all the fun. How about a quick shower?" 

It was strange at first showering with her uncle. But he made it fun, 
soaping her down, caressing her breasts with the soft soapsuds and then her 
private parts between her legs. When he was done with her, he asked her to 
do him too and she did as he asked. His huge cock was not as thick or hard 
at first, now, but as she soaped it under the running water of the shower it 
grew again to its former tremendous size. 

He let her jerk him off this time, meanwhile fondling her breasts and 
playing with her clit. When he came, she was able to wash it off immediately 
with the shower water, and then he kept at her with his hand between her 
thighs and in another moment she orgasmed again. 

They stayed in the shower as long as they could and when they came out and 
dried themselves, Uncle Ed said he had forgotten something. 

"What?" she asked simply. 

"To eat a little fresh pussy," he said grinning. 

He layed her down on the bed in her room and put his mouth between her legs 
and began to nibble away at her lower lips. She writhed. under his expert 
touch and then he licked her labia and clitoris. Again she felt the rising 
tide of her passions too much for her, and she convulsed again in a 
wrenching orgasm that left her spent. "Wow!" she gasped. "That was really 
something." 

He nodded smiling. "I liked it too. Got to drop around here more often, 
kid." 

She was dressing again when she remembered suddenly the panties she had 
forgotten downstairs. She rushed down to get them and as she neared the 
bottom step, she saw with surprise that her brother had come home. He was 
near the sofa and as she watched, he dipped suddenly and when he stood up he 
was holding her panties in his hand. 

Sally rushed forward then to grab them from him. He relinquished them 
without a struggle. Then he glanced to the living room floor and he was 
looking squarely at the large leather suitcase. 

Larry grinned. "Uncle Ed here?" 

She nodded, unable to speak. 

"Seems like he didn't waste much time," Larry said. 

Her cheeks flushed. She tossed her head defiantly, not answering. 

Larry continued. "How'd you like his cock?" 

Again she tossed her hair, not answering. 

"Was it bigger than mine?" 

She smiled and shook her head, and Larry grinned happily. 

"No kidding?" he asked. 

"No kidding," she said. 

"Well, how about that?" he said proudly. 

She let him have his prideful moment and the illusion. There was nothing she 
could say to explain, and at least by this deceit she managed to deal 
Larry's lips. He never told his parents about her and Uncle Ed. 

But to be on the safe side, she had grabbed at Larry's cock to insure his 
continuing silence. Although he was still trying to get other girls, she 
knew that she was still Larry's steady companion in bed. And that even if he 
did manage to find an occasional girl to lay, she would still be his 
preference because she could do a better head job on him than almost 
anybody. And as he himself had admitted one time, he preferred having her 
suck his cock than anything. 

That day he had grinned happily at the thought that his pecker was equal if 
not superior to that of his big uncle's. He left the house at once, leaving 
her to dispose of her panties and get Uncle Ed dressed and under control 
before the rest of the family came home. 

It all seemed so long ago. 

Now she squinted up at the blazing green eyes of her employer Brian Barton, 
a grown-up girl and a capable secretary, still with the old problem of how 
to account for panties on the floor instead of their usual place. 

"Did he hurt you?" Brian growled. 

She shook her head. 

"Well, that's something. Because if he had --" 

Again the clenched fist and the pounding of one hand into the other. 

"I couldn't think --" she said falteringly. "The gas or drug did something 
to my head. It was as if I were in a dream, watching it all as a spectator. 
As if it weren't happening to me." 

Brian nodded. "That's the way it works, Sally. It's a form of gas the Nazis 
intended using, to turn off any populace they had invaded. Nobody would 
question what they were doing." 

"But I don't -- I don't understand the pictures," she said. "What could they 
do with them? Surely no respectable newspaper would show them?" 

"No, they wouldn't. But there are different kinds of publications that like 
to violate privacy. The confidential type of gossip magazine, for one. They 
might not use the complete photo, they might crop it somewhere. But they 
would show the most salacious features, believe me. I have to assume that 
Hocking had exposed himself too?" 

She nodded silently, too humiliated to speak. 

"The dirty pig!" 

"He probably ... I think ... made me do ... well, other things," she 
faltered. She was still uncertain of exactly what Brian" had seen when he 
broke into his office. She was not even sure herself of what she had been 
doing. Was his penis actually inside her mouth? Had he forced her to suck 
him off? She began to tremble, knowing the latter thought was indeed true. 
She could still taste it in her mouth. 

Brian pounded his fist against his desk. "But those gossip magazines aren't 
all that Hocking and Emma have to deal with. They can show the prints to 
committees, to some people who would be shocked and angry with me." 

She reached to touch his hand, contritely. "I'm so sorry. If you want me to, 
I'll quit. Perhaps that would help you -- somehow." 

His eyes narrowed fiercely. "What are you saying, Sally? I need you here. 
This thing that happened isn't your fault. That's what I've been trying to 
tell you. It's something that couldn't be avoided. If it hadn't happened 
here in my office, they would have managed it somehow at your own 
apartment." 

"What good would that do?" 

He shrugged his wide shoulders. "They could have got you to do something 
again that you weren't aware of. And then, it's fairly easy to superimpose 
pictures nowadays with the techniques available. It would take a skilled 
person to tell the genuine from the fraud. So please don't blame yourself." 

She nodded. "All right" She pushed back her hair. "I guess now that it's all 
over, I better be getting back to work." 

He shook his head. "No way. You're taking the rest of the day off." 

"But I can't there's all this work." Her hand went to the stack of 
correspondence in her work box. 

"Forget it," Brain growled. Come on. Get your coat. I'm taking you home." 

She protested weakly but he was adamant. The other employees looked at her 
questioningly when she left with him. But they weren't aware of what had 
actually happened, and she had no intention of telling them. 

"Sally's got a special errand to run for me today," he told Gail, the 
receptionist. "Give her typing to some of the other girls in the secretarial 
pool." 

When they got downstairs, she remembered she had driven to work in her own 
car and automatically headed for it. Remembering Brian's offer, she looked 
up at him. 

He laughed. "Show's what a big brain I have. Forgot all about the logistics 
in that. Okay, then drive yourself home. Better still, I'll go along with 
you." 

"But how will you get back?" 

"Take a cab," he said lightly. 

He was quiet. on the drive back. At her apartment, he insisted upon ' going 
in first and checking the premises. He came out smiling. "Okay. Nobody's 
under your bed." 

Then to her surprise, his arms went around her and his lips were on hers. 
She felt the power in his arms as they swept her tightly to him. When they 
broke apart, he looked down at her dazed and shaken. 

'Wow!" he said. "I never thought it would be like that." 

After he left, she sat on her bed thinking. What would he think if he knew 
how well I could do the other things to make him happy, she wondered. Like 
some of the things that man made me do. Like sucking his cock off. 

CHAPTER FOUR 

That evening her phone rang, and thinking it was Brian calling, she ran to 
pick it up. A woman's voice greeted her. 

"Hello, Miss Parker?" 

"Yes? Who is this?" 

"You don't know me. My name is Emma Barton" 

Sally felt her hand tighten on the phone. She made her voice cool and 
unconcerned. "I've heard of you." 

The voice in her ear was throaty, sexual. "I'm sure that you have, Miss 
Parker. I understand you had a rather unpleasant experience this morning?" 

Sally hesitated. "Really? I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." 

Emma laughed. "I'm talking about the man who visited your office. The one 
who put his big cock into your mouth." 

She made herself sound casual. "What about it?" 

Emma sounded surprised. "You sound so blas, Miss Parker. Perhaps it wasn't 
such an unpleasant experience, after all." 

"I've had better cocks," she heard herself say. "Have you really? I had no 
idea." 

"Was there anything else; Mrs. Barton?" 

"Well, yes. I'm awfully sorry we had to use you for this. You realize of 
course why we had to do it?" 

"No need explaining or apologizing, Mrs. Barton. It was a pleasure. Any time 
you want to send Mr. Hocking over again, I'd be delighted to see him. Of 
course, I would have been a lot happier if you. had sent a man with a bigger 
cock. Or do you save those for yourself?" 

With that, she hung up, hearing Emma's surprised gasp before the connection 
was broken. That was the best way to handle it, she told herself. Brazen it 
out. Now they won't fell that they've hurt either me or Brian and it might 
spoil some of their fun. 

When the phone rang again a little later, she took her time answering it. 
This time it was a feminine voice too, but one she recognized. 

"Sally? This is Gail. How are you feeling?" 

She and the receptionist had never spoken outside the offices of Lobby 
Logic. Gail was a nice person, she had decided, rather close-mouthed, but 
pretty and efficient. "I'm all right, Gail," she said. "It's nice of you to 
call." 

"That must have been a terrible experience," Gail said. "When that man came 
running out with his fly wide open, I didn't know what to think!" 

Sally felt her cheeks flush. So it hadn't been the well-kept secret that she 
and Brian had only hours before imagined. 

"I'm all right, Gail," she said finally. "It wasn't a pleasant experience, 
to tell the truth. But it's all over now and Mr. Barton was very good about 
giving me the day off." 

"Well, he certainly should be," Gail said. "After all, it's his fault that 
it happened. If he'd been in his office, you would have been all right." 

"I'm all right now," Sally said. "Honestly, Gail." 

"Honest?" 

"Yes. It was -- well, sort of a shock, you see. He seemed to be a rather 
nice man when he walked in." 

"I know. He fooled me too." Gail's voice lowered to a confidential whisper. 
'What did he do?" 

"Oh, nothing, really. It's nothing to talk about, Gail." 

"I know. But don't forget he ran out of here with his fly open. He must have 
done something. Tried, anyway." 

"All right," Sally said. "Let's say he tried." 

"To stick it into you ?" 

Sally grimaced. "If you don't mind, Gail. It's something I'd rather not 
discuss over the phone." 

"Wonderful," Gail said. "I'll be right over." 

"What?" 

"I'm in the neighborhood, you see. Have you had dinner yet?" 

"Well, no -- " 

"Great," Gail said exuberantly. "I just want to see how you are. Then we can 
go out for a bite together. Okay?" 

There was no way she could get out of it gracefully, and so she had said she 
would be waiting for, Gail and yes, dinner together would be fine. She had 
showered but had not yet begun to dress when the doorbell rang. Sally was 
about to throw the door open when she remembered Brian's words of caution. 
"Who is it?' she asked. 

"Gail." 

She put her eye to the glass in the door and saw the receptionist clearly. 
She opened the door and Gail bounced inside, surveying the room. 

"Where'll I put this?" 

"Put what?" she asked, and then saw the brown bag Gail was holding. 

"The booze." Gail extracted a fifth of bourbon. "It seemed like a good way 
to get you to relax and get over your experience today." 

Sally forced herself to shrug. "Oh, that. Well, it was thoughtful of you, 
Gail. Set it down anywhere." 

"Better still," Gail said. "Why not open it now? We can have a drink or two 
before we go out and save some money. Got any ice?" 

"I'll get it." 

She returned from the kitchen with glasses and the ice cubes in a bucket. 
Now that she thought of it, the idea of drinking some good bourbon seemed an 
excellent thought. 

Pouring from Gail's bottle, they sat together on the sofa. Sally lifted' her 
glass. "Cheers," she said. "It's been a long time since I've had bourbon. I 
know my brother used to drink it all the time." 

Gail nodded, a, secret smile at her lips. "Mine, too. Sometimes it took me 
half a bottle before I got up enough nerve to let him screw me." 

Sally was so surprised she nearly dropped her glass. 

Gail continued, smiling. "But after that, it didn't take much for me to want 
to blow him and suck him off." 

Sally stared, blinking. Gail had hardly dipped into. the glass yet She 
appeared sober. It was inconceivable that someone she hardly knew would just 
walk into. her apartment and speak of such intimate things, especially so 
nonchalantly and vulgarly. 

Gail sipped now from her glass. "How was it with you and your brother, 
Sally? Was he older?" 

"Yes. About three years." 

"Three? You're lucky. Mine was younger than me. I had to show him 
practically everything." 

Sally shook her head. "Really?" she asked politely. Then, "How did you 
learn?" 

"My stepfather taught me. He married my mother before I was ten. It didn't 
take him two months before he had me jerking him off." 

Sally stared horrified. "The beast!" 

Gail grinned. "Oh, I didn't mind. In fact, I liked it. Pops was lots of fun. 
He went down on me too and taught me an awful lot of good healthy sex before 
I learned to blow him." 

Sally gasped. "Didn't your mother ever find out?" 

Gail shrugged. "I think she had her suspicions but she never did catch us at 
it. And Pops was very careful. He always made sure she got first crack at 
his cock before slipping it to me. That way she never caught wise. If he'd 
have used it all up on me first, and then climbed into the sack with her and 
a dead stick, it could have been trouble." 

Sally nodded, taking another sip of the bourbon. "Yes, I can imagine," she 
said stiffly, formally. It was one thing to be aware of such happenings; 
even to have experienced incest herself. But it was quite another to speak 
of it as casually as the description of a parade ! 

Gail reached for the bottle. "Hey, this is good stuff, if I say so myself. 
Here, let me give you a refill." 

Before Sally could protest, her glass had been filled to the brim again. 
Well, she thought, it didn't matter. She could use a little relaxation after 
the horror of the morning. And Gail was very frank, funny, and good company. 

"How old were you before you blew your brother?" Gail asked. 

Sally shook her head. Gail took it for granted that she had had sex 
similarly with her brother. Perhaps all young girls did, she thought. It 
occurred to Sally that perhaps she was a hypocrite in her reaction to Gail's 
candor. That's what girlfriends were for, to tell secrets to, to confide in 
... and the drinks were making her feel so warm, so relaxed. At any rate, it 
seemed to have happened ages ago. There seemed to be no point to sounding 
prim about what happened when she was a child. "Around twelve, I guess." 

Gail's eyes sparkled. "I knew it ! I knew it!" 

"Knew what?" Sally asked, puzzled. 

"I knew you looked too pure for it to be true. Any time I see a girl who 
looks like a virgin, and acts like one, I'm willing to bet my bottom dollar 
that she's been layed and parlayed, blown ten different ways. So I'm glad to 
hear that you're honest anyway." 

"It was so long ago," Sally said. "I'd almost forgotten, to tell you the 
truth." 

"Me, too," Gail said. "But I can't complain. I had it good with my 
stepfather for a long time. Then he died when I was sixteen and left me high 
and dry." 

"What do you mean?" 

Gail shrugged. "I mean, I was used to having a big cock stuck in me 
regularly. Pops was really hung and had a lot of jizzem in him. He banged me 
nearly every night for years. A girl could get spoiled that way, you know. 
After that, I tried some of the kids my age and take my word for it, they 
were all rotten. None of them could hold on to an erection for more than a 
couple of quick jerks. They came like rabbits, sometimes the second they got 
into me. Believe me, I missed my Pops. He really could last. Sometimes I'd 
have ten or more orgasms a night with him. And after he finished doing me 
with his big old cock, he knew how to go down on me and eat me and give me a 
couple more that way." 

To Sally's surprise, Gail shivered, a look of ecstasy shining on her face. 
She tilted her glass and drank deeply. "Here's to the good old days," she 
said. 

Sally smiled, delighted now with Gail's blunt speech. She wished that she 
could be as uninhibited, but of course that wasn't in her nature. 
Nevertheless, she was grateful for Gail's revelations about her past. Her 
own lasting affairs with her brother Larry had bothered her conscience for 
many years. She had never dared to reveal any of this to 'a soul, and yet on 
Gail's first visit, it had all come out . and with no sense of guilt or 
shame attached. 

"What did you do then?" she asked. "I mean; after your stepfather died and 
you found out the boys your age weren't able to satisfy you ?" 

"What do you think?" Gail challenged. 

Sally shrugged. "Tried older men?" 

Gail shook her head. "That came a lot later. Too little and too late, I have 
to admit." 

"What do you mean? What did you do r' 

Gail stared at her unashamed. "I tried girls." 

"Girls?" Sally repeated, stunned. 

Gail nodded. "And believe it or not; I found out that girls are more fun. I 
don't mean to say they can take the place of a man's good stiff cock. 
Nothing can, not even a dildo. But what they can do is give a lot more 
loving." 

Sally brushed. back her long flowing hair. She took a long pull at her glass 
feeling the bourbon relaxing her. "I guess I'll have to take your word for 
it, Gait That's something I've never tried." 

Gail didn't answer her immediately but she felt the girl's eyes on her robe, 
slightly open at her breasts. She had forgotten somehow in the immediacy of 
welcoming Gail that she had not dressed after her shower. Now, feeling the 
intensity of Gail's gaze, she unconsciously put her hand to her throat, 
pulling the upper part of her robe together. 

"Why do that?" Gail asked. 

Salty tried to look unconcerned. "What do you mean?" 

Gail gestured at her robe. Reaching out, she pried the ends apart from 
Sally's fingers. 'Why cover them up?" She gently pushed Sally's hand down, 
then leaning forward, she pulled the robe open, exposing sally's breasts. 

Gail gasped. "Wow! Have you got beautiful jugs!" 

Sally flushed. It would have been ridiculous to have said thank you. She 
felt uncomfortable, wondering what to say that wouldn't sound awfully stiff 
and square. 

Gail was very close to her now, so close she could feel her warm breath. 
"Let me show you what I mean, Sally. About how girls can love." 

Before Sally could protest, the light-haired girl had slipped the robe off 
her shoulders. Then almost in one continuing movement, her face was rubbing 
against Sally's soft breasts. "Wonderful," Gail murmured. Then she 
half-turned her face and her lips were at Sally's breasts. First one, then 
the other. Softly she moved her lips and tongue all around the nipples. Then 
she put one in her mouth and began. to suck. Sally felt her body warming, 
beginning to moisten. She already knew that she had a frighteningly low 
boiling point with men's sexual advances ... but this was different! This 
was a girl! 

Perhaps it was the stiff drinks she had taken so quickly, she thought. 
Whatever it was, she had to admit that whatever Gail was doing to her now 
was beautiful, gentle, and comforting. It was a nice feeling of being loved 
with no rough masculine threat involved. She felt very safe here with Gail 
in her own apartment, and she sighed and let herself be gently forced back 
until she was flat on her sofa feeling Gail's weight upon her, feeling the 
other girl's hands slip inside her robe to caress her body in soft sweeping 
stroked. When Gail moved her hands inside her thighs, she began to tremble. 

"It's okay, Sally," Gail assured. "I know what you want." 

Her robe was eased from her gently and she found herself turning, shifting 
her hips to help Gail get it off. Then she was naked, lying on her sofa and 
she saw Gail's eyes gleaming with approval. 

"Let me love you, Sally. Just relax and enjoy it." 

She heard herself murmuring soft sighs of contentment as Gail dipped her 
head between her soft rounded thighs. As the other girl licked at her 
vagina, she stirred, moved her hips and Gail grasped her about the buttocks, 
hugging her closer,. She buried her head between Sally's legs, and her 
experienced mouth found all the places that could wring sighs of pleasure 
from Sally. 

"That's just the beginning, Sally," she said softly. "Now I'm really going 
to eat your beautiful juicy cunt." 

Sally soon began to stir, feeling incredible sensations of delight coursing 
through her body. She thrilled from each touch of Gail. There was no way she 
could resist this kind of gentle loving, and when she compared it in her 
mind with the brutal exercise of the morning with Hocking, Mrs. Barton's 
agent, she could not do anything but submit gratefully. 

Unselfishly, Gail had asked for nothing in return for the sheer delight of 
making active love to her. Apparently she expected nothing but Sally 
submitting to her attentive ways, letting her kiss and suck and squeeze each 
of her body parts in minutae. But as Sally began to tremble and quiver with 
each knowing new caress, almost out of her mind with delight, she knew she 
would have to do something of het own to repay this kindness. 

"Oh, you're so beautiful, so soft," Gail said, her face buried between 
Sally's soft thighs. "I could go on eating you forever." 

Sally managed to say, gasping with new pleasure as Gail's tongue found her 
clit and massaged it, "I've never felt anything this wonderful in my life." 

Gail merely muttered some response she could not hear and resumed what she 
was doing. Now she had found the sensitive clit and centered all her rapt 
and loving attention on it. 

Just when Sally began to circle her hips, feeling that her orgasm was 
imminent, Gail moved away. She began to kiss Sally's body in minute detail, 
first going up each side to her breasts, then circling and going down the 
other. When she came to the mound, she veered off again and wen to the parts 
of the inner thighs that gave so much pleasure. 

Answering Sally's unspoken thoughts, she muttered, "This way you'll come off 
the best. Believe me." 

She went back up Sally's middle now, lingering to stay around the navel 
area, biting softly at the soft flesh just above and below. At the same 
time, her fingers were running down Sally's back, stroking her tenderly, and 
kneading her flesh with firm caressing movements. 

Gail turned Sally to her side then, and half-mounted her, pressing both the 
back and front of Sally's graceful body at once, running her hands up and 
down in unison as if she were playing some celestial instrument. Sally 
moaned in pleasure and now suddenly in her rising passion, she reached out 
for the other girl and found her breasts. Gail immediately let out a soft 
moaning sound. 

"Oh, that's so nice, Sally. Squeeze me there. I love it. Only squeeze me 
hard. Like this." 

To show Sally what she meant, she took one of her round breasts in each hand 
and turned them as if they were knobs. Then she pulled them apart and then 
brought them together as if she were trying to make one large breast out of 
them. 

Sally sighed in rapture, shaking her head, trying to regain her breath "Oh, 
yes. I love that too. I thought that your doing it gently was the best, but 
I . love what you're doing now, Gail. 

Gail smiled and lifted up enough for Sally to unhook her dress. She twisted 
her shoulders quickly and shrugged herself out of it. Then she bent to the 
side while Sally unlocked her bra. She shook her shoulders then and her own 
breasts were free and tumbled like soft birds into Sally's hands. 

"Oh, these are beautiful," Sally murmured. "They're so soft!" 

She wiggled to one side and when Gail went back to kissing her between the 
thighs, Sally buried her face between Gail's lovely soft breasts. It was 
incredible, she thought, what she had been missing. For the first time in 
her life, she had permitted another of her own sex to make love to her, 
something she had always thought was odd. Now when she was beginning to 
realize how wonderful it was for a person to be loved by another of the same 
sex, she knew even more certainly that her own actions now were wonderfully 
receptive. She felt as much pleasure now in kissing Gail's breasts as she 
had received when Gail fastened her knowing lips on hers. It was the first 
time too that she had ever known the strange yet wonderful feeling of 
kissing another girl's nipples and she noted with awe how quickly they grew 
erect, responsive to her touch. 

She had heard of girls making love to each other, and had always turned 
aside. Now she knew she had to make up for all those stupid years of acting 
superior. She tore at Gail's panties and Gail nodded and moved her hips 
enough so Sally could slip them off. She slid her hands along Gail's thighs 
now, admiring their firm softness. She was pleasantly surprised too at the 
muscular calves of Gail, and pressed hard on her legs, delighting in their 
firmness. They were shifting positions now, lying side by side, and this 
gave Sally the chance to run her hands over Gail's. round buttocks. Again 
she received an unexpected thrill. No man ever felt this soft and pliable, 
she knew. 

Gail now began to move away from her and before Sally knew what she was 
doing, she had reversed her position and Sally felt her thighs soft and 
fragrant near her face. She craned forward and kissed Gail's inner thighs 
and then she knew what she had to do and moved determinedly upward until her 
mouth was poised. an inch from Gail's moistened cunt. 

Sally hesitated no longer. She remembered in detail the lovely ways that 
Gail had made love to her own lovespot and now while it was still freshly 
imprinted in her mind, and being done to her again, she went in with open 
mouth and questing tongue. The first taste felt strange but there was a 
fascination to the pungent aroma that could not be resisted. She had an idea 
suddenly why girls found it so easy to love one another, if they all had 
this same sweet and pungent scent.. She buried her face in it gratefully. 

She heard Gail moan her grateful response sounding far off, somewhere 
muffled between her own legs. She found the outer labia lips and then the 
hard nut-like clitoris and licked and bit at it. At the same time, her hands 
were pulling roughly at Gail's breasts, bringing soft. cries from her. 

Sally was wondering if this was the reversed position most women preferred 
for loving, when suddenly Gail began to, move her hips and writhe. At the 
same time she felt her own clit being so stimulated that before she knew: 
it, the huge dam of her love juices spilled over and she cried out and 
grabbed at Gail as she convulsed in her orgasm. She wept with ecstasy as she 
felt Gail shudder too, and then her mouth knew Gail's love juices as she 
poured and gushed into her own orgasm. 

They lay there another long moment until their series of orgasms had finally 
subsided. When she turned her face away, it was wet with Gail's love juices 
and she was strangely proud and happy that she had done this. She heard 
Gail's voice, happy and almost mocking. 

"Was I right, or was I right? Can men make love like women?" 

She shook her head. Such wonderful loving was too different and precious to 
deny. "You were right, Gail," she said. 

CHAPTER FIVE 

The following morning, as she drove to work, she wondered if her new 
relationship with Gail would make any difference. As Brian Barton's private 
secretary, her duties did not require any more than her typing in her 
office. She knew most of the foundation crew but merely by name and 
association. There was no possible way she could walk past Gail at her . 
reception desk now by merely nodding a Cool hello. Their lovemaking the 
preceding night had lasted for hours and when it was over, they were both 
exhaunted. 

Oddly, neither had spoken in terms of their future relationship, if any, 
both equally afraid to presume upon this new tenuous emotion that had 
exploded so suddenly into passion. For her own part, Sally could not recall 
any time in her young life that held so much ecstasy and fulfillment for 
her. That it had happened with another girl puzzled her. She had never 
considered Gail "queer" in any sense, no more than she would have so 
denigrated herself. Yet the proof had been there for them both to witness. A 
perfect loving evening. 

Gail had pinpointed the thought herself by remarking about the difference 
between male and female lovers. As she rolled sensuously in mounting 
ecstasy, her lips glued to Sally's, her hands softly stroking her body, she 
had shivered and then her eyes misted. "I'm not asking you to feel the same 
way I do, Sally. But the truth is, I've never in my life enjoyed making love 
more." 

Sally lay there, gently stroking in return, her passion spent and leaving 
her with a lingering pervasive contentment. Although Gail had given her an 
out, she was still too wrapped up in this delicious moment. She felt Gail's 
body warm against hers, demanding only to love her, asking nothing in 
return. But she had loved, trying to return as much as she had received; 
awkwardly at the beginning, but then finding her way and gaining confidence 
and expertise as the long moments of holding, clinging, and stroking 
stretched on and on. 

"Me, neither," she had said finally. "It's been just wonderful, Gail. I 
never in my life dreamed. it could be like this. The only thing that's been 
different has been the you-know-what." 

Gail lifted her head. "You mean the cock?" 

"Yes," Sally said dreamily. "I'm not 'saying that I've missed having one 
inside me. It's just all that has been lacking, that's all. And girls have 
to be contented with what they. can do naturally, I guess." 

"Not necessarily," Gail said. "Excuse me a moment" 

To Sally's surprise, she had stood up and-walked across the room to where 
she had placed her bag. Sally watched her easy swaying motion, admiring 
Gail's grace. Her body was tan and glowed with health and vitality. Her legs 
were long and graceful, her thighs 'and buttocks full and firm. Her round 
breasts. crested by light pink nipples were the answer to any man's dream. 
Her long chestnut hair flowed easily and smoothly to her slender shoulders. 
Her neck was long and delicate as a stalk. Her face was a long oval; eyes a 
smouldering deep jet; her mouth wide and generous, lips upturned at the 
corner in what seemed a perpetual grin. 

She opened her bag and drew something out wrapped in tissue paper. Returning 
to the sofa, she extended her hand and let it fall into Sally's hand. Sally 
felt something hard and bulblike and her fingers recoiled. She looked up at 
her new friend uncertainly. 

"Open it, silly," Gail said. 

Sally shrugged and did as Gail suggested. She stared down at a large white 
'hard substance shaped so much like a human male organ as to defy her 
reason. "What is it?" Sally asked. 

"You mean you really don't know?" 

Sally shook her head. "I've never seen one before." Gail grinned. "It's 
called a dildo. It's the answer to an old maid's prayers." 

Gail laughed as Sally turned it from side to side, examining it carefully. 
"It's not real, only rubber. Would you like to see how it works?" 

Sally hesitated. "Well, not really, Gail. I wouldn't want you to think that 
I -- honestly, it's just that I'm so curious." 

Gail nodded. "Sure. I was too or how else would I have got it? This is just 
the small job anyway. They have some rigged with electric current to give 
you a real buzz if you want. We'll just have to make do with this the 
old-fashioned way." 

She had a strap ready which she fastened around her waist and inserted the 
dildo in a loop near the bottom. She was over Sally now, completely girded. 
"Okay, Sally, where do you want it?" 

"What?" 

Gail shook her head and grinned. "You know, front or rear end?" 

Sally hesitated. "Isn't it awfully big? Won't it hurt?" 

"It depends," Gail said. "I don't think you're that small. But we'll try it 
and if it hurts you too much, let me know and I'll pull it out." 

"All right." She settled back and spread her thighs. "This okay?" 

Gail looked down at her admiringly, then shook her head. "No, this way you 
would have a basis for comparison with the real thing. Turn over, doll." 

Turning her buttocks up, Gail mounted her from the rear. "Hold still now. I 
don't want to hurt you." 

She felt it now as if a live thing slipping from 'between Gail's legs into 
the crevice of her anus. She spread her arms and rested her face on a soft 
pillow while Gail massaged and kissed her buttocks. Then she inserted the 
devil do-gooder. 

"Okay so far?" 

Sally felt herself perspiring. It was beginning to hurt but not too badly. 
Somehow now she wanted it all inside her, in the way her brother never could 
gain access. "Go ahead, Gail," she said firmly. "I want it there. You don't 
have to worry about me. I won't cry." 

"Okay. You asked for it." 

She felt it moving in a stirring circular motion as if at the periphery of 
her anus. Then Gail leaned closer to her, encircling her dangling breasts 
with her soft hands. She squeezed Sally's breasts suddenly with surprising 
strength. As Sally gasped, she thrust forward and Sally felt the obscene yet 
loving object filling her insides, cramming it with a hard fullness that 
sent tears to her eyes. Her mouth opened and as she cried out, Gail thrust 
it deep again. She gasped with the pain and yet now she was able to take it 
better. She moved her hips encouraging Gail who was still hesitant above 
her. 

"I'm okay," she said gasping. "Go ahead, Gail. Do it." 

"Right on, Sally. Here we go. Next stop is heaven!" 

A honking motorist brought Sally's attention back to the present and she 
shivered now remembering her ecstatic feelings of the night before. It had 
been extraordinary, incredible, an experience she had not thought possible. 
In her mind she tried to compare and equate that experience with Gail Trell, 
using the mechanical dildo on her, with the morning she had spent visiting 
Mr. Brown's apartment in San Francisco. Brown, that crude and powerful man, 
had taken her then from the rear, buggering her for the first time and she 
remembered with shame and humiliation how she had enjoyed his big fat cock 
inside her ass. 

No, she had to admit now, there was something different in any comparison 
between the dildo and the human male penis. There was the warm feeling the 
human organ had, for one, and then too, the fact that it jetted its sperm 
right into you at the critical time of peak arousal. No dildo could do that, 
she thought, and even if they designed one to spew some kind of warm liquid 
as a lukewarm imitation, nothing could ever really duplicate nature's way. 

There were the other factors too, she realized. The complete physical setup 
of the male. The fact that you could feel his testicles,. hard as a huge 
ball behind you, slapping against the seat of your buttocks as the man 
thrust and lunged at you with his big hard stick. The human pulsing warmth 
of the male organ was another factor. Otherwise, she thought, you might as 
well use anything -- a banana, or a cucumber as well as the dildo. 

Then, too, there was the human frailty angle -- the overall thought that the 
male penis, even though erect and in full cry for satisfaction, could at any 
moment lose its sublime shape and thickness and hardness. Within seconds, 
she knew, a man could go from an eight-inch cock to a mere shrivelled 
lifeless-looking stump of sagging puny flesh. The man always had to contend 
with losing his erection, as did his consort. Perhaps it was that built-in 
frailty, the uncertainty of the perfect human fucking machine that made it 
so attractive and necessary. It took but a single thought to turn off a man, 
unless he happened to be a beast; in which case he could lose his hard-on 
only by continued usage, and would come to his end after sufficient orgasms, 
regardless of his professed power. 

Sally remembered a boy at school, a notorious stud who had achieved a great 
amount of notoriety based on his huge cock and his staying powers. Her 
friend at school, Wanda Mack, had been introduced to the stud and attracted 
by the bulge in the center of his pants, and had gone to a motel with him. 
The next day she had described the activities to Sally. 

"His name is Roscoe Tanier, and you wouldn't believe what he has inside his 
pants." 

She remembered her tart reply. "Could it be a cock?" 

Wanda had smiled. "I've seen all kinds of cocks in my life -- all shapes and 
sizes. But this one of Roscoe's you wouldn't believe. It has got to be over 
ten inches long!" 

She remembered showing disbelief. "Ten inches, Wanda? Isn't that humanly 
impossible? Maybe you went out with a horse or donkey named Roscoe." 

Wanda shook her head. "If I did, that horse or donkey signed the motel 
register as Reggie Fuller and wife. He also paid ten dollars in advance for 
the room." 

"Okay, okay," she had said. "So it was no horse or donkey. Roscoe is human 
and divinely hung. But ten inches? Didn't it strangle you?" 

Wanda had grinned. "Only every place he tried it. When we got into the room 
he let me put my hand on it before he took it out of his pants. I guess he 
wanted to make sure that I didn't panic and try to jump out the window." 

"And you didn't?" 

"I wasn't that crazy," Wanda had replied. "It felt kind of big, of course, 
but it has been a few weeks actually since I went with a fellow and I kind 
of forgot what they felt like, sizewise, I mean. After all, a lot of guys at 
this school, not to mention quite a few who don't attend, have pretty 
good-size whangs. 

"So I just felt it and squeezed it and let Roscoe fool around with my tits, 
you know, rubbing them around and kind of bouncing them. I like that." 

"Who doesn't? On with the story of Roscoe's magic wand." 

"Oh, it was magic, all right; and don't laugh. And I know how big it was 
because it was bigger than my feet?' 

"Your feet?" Sally had exclaimed. "What was his cock doing down there? Is 
Roscoe a foot fucker?" 

Wanda had grimaced. "No, dopey. It's just that when I saw it all let out and 
extended, I knew nobody would ever believe me if I said it took both my 
hands to hold it. And that was when I decided to put my foot up against it 
to see how they compared. Believe it or not, his cock was longer." 

Sally threw up her hands. "All right, I believe it. I know you have big 
feet, Wanda." 

Wanda bared her teeth. "Okay. So we had a few drinks and then Roscoe asked 
me if I was hungry. I thought that was kind of silly because we had just 
finished having dinner at Eddie's shore place. So like a dope, I shrugged my 
shoulders, figuring maybe he had some kind of special dessert he had ordered 
from the motel. 

"I said that I supposed I could eat a little something, and that's when he 
took it out of his pants and suggested I could satisfy part of my appetite 
by eating his cock. I made believe I didn't know what he was talking about 
but he knew a lot of ways to make me do what he wanted." 

Sally's eyes had widened. "Such as what?" 

"Well, first, he took my clothes off because he said he didn't want my dress 
to get all creased and rumpled." 

Sally had grinned. "I've heard that one." 

"Then he took his off because he said they belonged to his roommate and he 
promised to take care of them." 

"Not at all bad," Sally had said laughing. "Original." 

"I thought so, too. Anyway, so we both did. And then we're both standing 
around bare-eased and naked and I see his thing, I mean I really saw his 
thing for the first time. I couldn't believe it. It was three inches thick, 
and that happens to be bigger around than my fist." 

Sally managed to look impressed. "How did it happen to get inside your fist 
all of a sudden?" 

Wanda blushed. "Oh, I forgot. We started fooling around and I suppose I lost 
my balance and grabbed at anything to keep from falling off the bed. And 
there it was, a whole handful and more! 

"But he didn't want me to jerk him off, oddly enough. Roscoe had better 
ideas in mind. And I know you're not at all interested so I guess I'll say 
good-bye now." 

Sally glared. "You do and I spread the word that your brother is a dyke." 

"Okay, okay. Only fooling, Sally. Anyway, he got me down on the bed and 
started going over me with his mouth. I mean, he got between my soft white 
juicy thighs and he went way up my cunt with his tongue and then he found my 
clit -- " 

"Your what?" 

Wanda looked around the area and touched herself. "It's something special we 
have that gets hard just like what they have. And Roscoe knew how to suck on 
mine until I was ready to come -- and I did -- and twice more." 

Sally remembered moistening as she listened. "And then what happened?" she 
asked firmly. 

"Then he said if I wanted any more of those delicious clit-licking orgasms, 
I'd have to get started on eating his stick. So I did, and guess what?" 

Sally shook her head. "His cock fell off?" 

"No, silly, it got bigger. And it got bigger and bigger until I thought it 
would strangle me to death." Sally grinned. "And did it?" 

Wanda whistled. "No, but it sure was close. When he came it felt like 
somebody had put a fire hose inside my mouth. It came at me with such force, 
I swear he pushed back my tonsils. Anyway, it felt like it. But the best 
part is yet to come. You'll never believe the rest of this." 

"Wanda Mack, you're not getting out of this alive if you don't tell," Sally 
had threatened. "You can't leave me hanging now with his big thing stuffed 
into your mouth and making like a fire hose. Did he put out the fire, by the 
way?" 

"That's it," Wanda said. "He put out the fire ten times!" 

Sally looked puzzled. "Did I miss something?" 

Wanda smiled. "No. I'm telling you that my stud date with the ten-inch cock 
made it ten times with me last night." 

"Impossible," Sally said. 

"That's what I thought. I had two in the mouth and two in the snatch for 
openers. And two in the keester makes it six, right?" 

Sally nodded. "Six is a lot, too, Wanda. But you said he made it ten times!" 

Wanda nodded. "Right. After the sixth one, he said he wanted to rest a 
minute. Then he said, why don't we take a. break and take a shower? So we 
did. We stood in the stall and I let him soap me up and then he started 
fooling around my pussy with his hand and I started to come. So I began 
jerking him off and as soon as I made mine, whoosh, he came in my hand and 
all over me. 

"Now that should have finished the guy off. But instead, it only made him 
hornier. No sooner did he come, then he wanted more. He picked me up and 
held me over his cock and I wrapped my legs around him. You know?" 

Sally nodded, feeling her cheeks go crimson. 

"Okay, then he started to bounce me up and down and I felt it coming again 
and bounced harder and faster and then -- wham and ham and whoosh -- Roscoe 
was flooding me again. That makes eight, right?" Sally made a rapid 
calculation mentally. "Right" 

"Now he was getting kind of tired, he said. And he fell asleep as soon as we 
went back inside. I did, too, and I'm dreaming I forget about what now, and 
then all of a sudden I feel something big and hard stealing into my snatch 
from behind me. Well, I pretended I didn't know what it was, but then he 
started playing with my tits and before I knew it he, he did me again. Me 
and him. Nine!" 

"Nine!" Sally echoed weakly. 

"Then it was kind of late and I had class this morning early, so we got 
dressed and he drove me home." 

Sally shook her head. "But, Wanda, you insisted that he made it ten times, 
and you only got to nine." 

Wanda snapped her fingers. "I nearly goofed. When we drove up in front of 
the apartment, he started to kiss me like good night, you know. Then he 
started fooling around with my tits again, squeezing them like crazy and 
flipping the nipples. Naturally, I was kind of done in by that time myself 
and I wasn't too responsive." 

"Well, what happened?" 

"He put my hand on his cock inside his pants. Believe it or not, Sally, it 
was even bigger and harder than it was before, all those other times in the 
motel room. So I sure didn't want to waste another chance at that big hunk 
of Sausage, and I let him take advantage of me one more time." 

Sally gasped. "In the car?" 

Wanda nodded carelessly. "Where else?" 

Sally narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "How did you manage the last one? I 
mean, what position?" 

"Oh, sitting. I crawled over him and sat right down on his family jewels. 
And this one took a little longer, but when he made it, I thought he was 
going to come right through the roof of my mouth." 

Ten times, Sally marveled. Wasn't that some kind of record? 

She had never tried to take advantage of Wanda's friendship to inveigle an 
invitation with her stud with the size-ten penis and the number-ten orgasms. 
Wanda had moved away shortly afterward, her father suffering a loss in 
business, and although they had corresponded for a while, after a few months 
the letters ceased as if by mutual consent. 

If Roscoe was still around and doing his vaunted thing, she hadn't heard of 
it from any of her other school friends. And soon the story had escaped her 
mind and memory. 

Until now, until this moment when she was trying to find some justification 
for loving Gail and making do with that kind of tenuous and offbeat 
relationship, rather than becoming involved with men. 

She had a sickly feeling that her brief moments with Hocking, Emma Barton's 
agent, had spoiled her again for men. There were simply too many bad and 
brutalizing experiences with men. They were too strong, too ruthless, too 
demanding. Yet she remembered too, if hazily, that despite her repugnance, 
she had begun to respond to what the blond man was doing to her. She was 
beginning to like the feel of his hands on her, and his big cock, top. 

How could she tell this to Gail? She knew little if indeed anything of 
Gail's private life. Perhaps she had been badly treated by men at some time 
in her life. Otherwise, why would she seek to 'make love to women? 

The dildo was another indicator. Only a woman who engaged regularly in sex 
with other women would be that familiar. with one. 

It had been early in the morning when Gail had finally gone home. She had 
been sleepless at first, after Gail left, but eventually she relaxed and the 
alarm awoke her. Now it was eight-thirty and as she wheeled her little car 
into the foundation lot, she knew intuitively that she would have to talk 
with Gail, have this out with her. They could go on being friends, but 
perhaps it would be just as well if they didn't become too close in their 
relationship. 

As she opened the door and stepped toward the reception desk, she felt 
something was wrong. She blinked and as she came closer, a thin frowning 
line formed between her eyes. 

A stranger sat at Gail Trell's desk. 

Sally stopped. "Hello, I'm Sally Parker. I'm Brian Barton's secretary. 
Where's Gail this morning?" 

The new girl shrugged. "I don't know, really. I heard she called in sick or 
something this morning and the agency sent me over as a replacement." 

Sally nodded, and walked slowly away stunned. Something was wrong, terribly 
wrong, but she couldn't put her finger on it. She came into her office and 
saw Brian hadn't come in yet either. 

She sat down, possessed suddenly by a dim sense of foreboding. 

CHAPTER SIX 

She found Gail's home phone number in the office directory. As she dialed, 
she felt the sense of apprehension growing. She tried to allay it, telling 
herself that actually she knew so little of Gail's personal life and habits. 
Perhaps she was merely tired or had overslept, or even, was hung over. They 
had consumed a considerable amount of the bourbon she had brought to Sally's 
place, and it wasn't too difficult to imagine that upon her return to her 
own apartment, she had imbibed more. 

Sally stared at the phone in her hand, hearing the tone ring on unanswered. 
Perhaps she's a heavy sleeper, she told herself. Not everyone responds to 
the ringing of a phone. She reminded herself that never having been to 
Gail's apartment, she had no idea where the phone was located. Conceivably, 
it could have been placed in the hall, or the living room, or even buried 
beneath pillows. 

The phone continued to ring and she gave it a few more and then replaced it 
on its cradle. Another thought struck her and she nodded at its possibility. 
Gail was not sleeping. She was up but in the bathroom, taking a bath or 
shower. You needn't be able to hear your phone ring when you're in the 
bathroom. 

Well, then, she told herself, there's nothing to worry about. You merely 
call again in a while when she's out. 

There were other positive thoughts. Gail could have decided not to go to 
work and was shopping instead. She had no idea of Gail's loyalties to Barton 
and Lobby Logic and its purposes. They simply had not wasted a single moment 
of the preceding evening discussing business. It had all been the singular 
manifestation of encountered love. 

Then what was she worried about? she asked herself. The answer came 
immediately. 

Emma Barton. 

Andrew Hocking, agent. 

If they had failed with her, perhaps they would succeed with Gail. And for 
that matter, she realized, they had not actually failed .with her, merely 
not realized all that they had intended. 

She wished Brian would come. He knew Gail. He could size up the situation 
and tell her if she was needlessly worrying. She would merely tell him that 
Gail had been over last night and -- she felt her cheeks, warm and flushed; 
and wondered how much she dared to tell Brian really about Gail's visit. Did 
he know about her personal preference for women? Wouldn't her admission of 
their seeing each other plant something in his mind that she would rather 
not have there? 

But at that moment, the door opened and Brian walked in. His long stride 
carried him to her desk quickly. "Where's Gail today?" she asked quickly. 

He stared down at her puzzled. "Gail?" he echoed dumbly. 

"Gail Trell. Our receptionist. Didn't you notice she's not at her desk and a 
new girl is there?" 

Barton shook his head. "Sorry. Didn't notice. Came in the side door, Sally, 
and never looked back at the reception desk. What's troubling you?" 

He looked down at her carefully but she found sympathy in his tone. "I don't 
know," she said. "It's just that -- well, she dropped over to spend a little 
time with me last evening. She was worried about my encounter with that man 
Hocking. And when I came in this morning and didn't see her, I thought -- " 

He nodded, green eyes fastened on hers. "That something had happened to 
her?" 

"Yes. I didn't tell you -- your wife -- Emma called me." 

His jaw muscles worked convulsively. "What did she have to say?" 

"Not very much. Some, vulgar language. An implied threat." 

Barton tugged at his hair angrily. "God, .I'm sorry to have you messed up in 
my personal life, Sally. I'll have to do something about that, I suppose. 
But so far as Gail is concerned, why panic? I doubt very much that Emma 
would do anything to her. She's not as close to me as you are. Why not try 
her number again in a little while. Perhaps she overslept this morning. Or 
she could be in the shower behind the closed door and not hear the phone 
ringing." 

She smiled, relieved that he had thought of the same possibilities. "All 
right. I'll try her again and then get on to my work." 

"Fine," he said, moving off into his office. "If you don't get some kind of 
response from her soon, let me know," he added. 

"Yes." She dialed Gail's number again. She could hear it ringing and ringing 
and she had counted eight rings and was about to hang up when she heard the 
phone being lifted. 

"Hello?" 

"Is that you, Gail?" 

"Yes. Who is this?" 

"Sally. What's wrong?" 

"What do you mean what's wrong?" 

I mean you're not at your desk and there's a new girl sitting there. I've 
called you before and got no answer. Well, say something." 

"I will, if you give me a minute. First, what time is it?" 

"Nine o'clock." 

She heard Gail moan in mock panic. "I'll never make it today. It's all the 
fault of that sonofabitch." 

"Which sonofabitch? What are you talking about, Gail?" 

"The molester." 

"Molester?" 

"Some guy who broke in here last night. Just as I hit the sack. Wouldn't you 
know it?" 

"What are you talking about, Gail? Are you all right?" 

"Let me see -- I think so." 

Gail came on again after a moment's silence. "It only looks bad, what he 
did. But I'm okay, really." 

Sally made up her mind quickly. "Gail, don't do anything. I'm coming right 
over." 

"But -- you don't even know my address." 

"That's right -- give it to me. I'll ask Brian if I can take a little time 
off. He'll understand, I'm sure." 

'Well, okay, doll, if you think you can swing it." 

"I'll try. I should be there in less than half an hour." She hung up and 
hastened to Brian's office. 

He looked up. and dropped the papers he was holding as he saw the expression 
on her face. "What's wrong, Sally? You look as if you're seen a ghost." 

"It's Gail -- I finally got her on the phone. She's been hurt." 

"Hurt?" 

"Some intruder. Somebody broke into her apartment, she said, just after she 
got home. She sounded awful, as if she had been beaten. Mr. Barton, could I 
-- ?" 

He grinned and waved -his papers. "Go on, Sally. Take off. I can see how 
this affects you. And naturally after Gail visited you to commiserate with 
you on your attack." He shook his head worried. "I hope this thing with Gail 
is something different -- something not connected to Emma and her plans to 
get something on me." 

She gathered her things. "I'll just drive over there and see if she's all 
right. If she doesn't need any-thing, I expect to be back within an hour, 
Mr. Barton." 

He shook his head. "Take whatever time is necessary, Sally. There's nothing 
going on at the office right now that can't wait." 

She didn't want to argue about it, sensing he was purposely being overly 
generous, and hurried out of her office. The new receptionist who had 
temporarily relieved Gail sat behind the desk, her nose buried in a 
paperback book. 

Sally shook her head disapprovingly. If Gail had nothing to do, she would be 
helping out by typing. This new girl was something else, she thought, and 
she couldn't wait to have Gail come back. Barton couldn't afford to have 
people around his organization who wouldn't put out. As he had once put it, 
you either wanted to help people or you didn't. That was the guiding 
principle behind Lobby. Logic. If you didn't care enough, a lot of people 
would suffer. 

She got into her car, wheeled out of the lot, and headed for the freeway. 
From the address Gail had given her, she knew she had a fast twenty-minute 
ride. Most of the morning traffic had already come along, and she thought 
she could be there and back at her desk within the hour. Luck was with her 
all the way and she made better time than she had expected. She found Gail's 
apartment house in the Valley, a two-story walk-up in a quiet neighborhood. 

Shortly after she jabbed at the doorbell, she heard the bell chime softly 
and rock music inside. She heard Gail's voice call, "Coming," and rocked on 
her heels impatiently. She glanced at her wristwatch. It was ten o'clock. 

The door was flung open and she stared puzzled at the blank doorway. Then 
from behind the door, a finger beckoned. She stepped inside, and turned 
quickly as the doer was shut behind her. 

"Hi," Gail was saying. "You sure made good time getting here, Sally. I hope 
you didn't pick up a speeding ticket." 

Sally stared. Gail was wearing a thin shortie night-gown, coming halfway to 
her knees. Her long tanned graceful legs were bare. Her eyes travelled down 
the symmetrical form to her toes, encased in clogs. A thin frowning line 
formed between her eyes and she took in again the low-cut front revealing 
Gail's perfectly formed breasts. 

Gail laughed. "Anything wrong?" 

Sally shook her head. "I hope not, Gail. I was looking -- you know, for 
bruises. I don't know exactly what. I'm so happy you're not hurt. From what 
you said over the phone, I thought -- " 

Gail interrupted, smiling. "Had you worried, huh?" 

"Of course. I can imagine it must have been a terrible experience." 

Gail shrugged. "It could have been worse." 

Sally stared, puzzled. "I don't understand, Gail. Perhaps you'd better tell 
me what happened." 

Gail said frowning, "I can't believe what happened myself. Come on inside 
and sit down. Can I get you anything?" 

Sally shook her head. 

"Coffee? Just made fresh." 

"Well, all right." She sat down on Gail's sofa and Gail banged things around 
in the kitchen. The living room was cheerful and well furnished although it 
appeared to need attention. Gail, although a good receptionist, apparently 
wasn't bothered by a sloppy house. She could see the open bedroom door, the 
bed still not made, covers tossed around. She caught herself. Instead of 
being grateful that Gail isn't hurt, I'm critical of her housecleaning! 

Gail was back in a moment bearing two cups of steaming .coffee. She handed 
Sally hers, and took the big sofa chair opposite, and sat back, crossing her 
long legs, her light short nightie rising high up her lovely tan thighs. 
"Okay," she said. "You'll never believe it but here's what happened. When I 
got back here, it was close to three in the morning. I didn't realize it was 
that late." 

Sally bit her lip. "Me, neither, Gail. I'm sorry I didn't ask you to stay 
over. I didn't realise you lived way the other end of. town." 

Gail Shrugged. "It was worth it. I had a marvelous time." Her eyes raised 
and fastened on Sally's. "Did you?" 

"You know I did, Gail" She glanced at her watch. "But I promised Brian I'd 
be right back. Do you mind?" 

Gail grimaced. "Sorry. All right, I'll make it brief. I got home, I got 
undressed, I took a shower, I went to bed. That is, I nearly went to bed." 

"I don't understand." 

"You will. I don't suppose I ever told you, but I like to sleep in the raw. 
Something sort of carefree about it. And last night, as usual, when I got 
out of the shower, I had my bathrobe an, but as I got into my bedroom, I 
shrugged it off. That's when I saw him." 

"Saw who?" 

"My molester. He was sitting on my bed, looking me over, his eyes as big as. 
saucers. A young kid, maybe sixteen or seventeen. I guess he never saw a 
girl in. the buff before." 

"But how did he get in?" 

Sally shook her head. "That was my first thought, too, Sally. And I was more 
surprised than angry. So the first thing out of my mouth, I said, `How did 
you get in here?' The kid kept looking me over, sort of licking his lips, 
and I can swear he was drooling, his little blue eyes, fastened right , on 
my tits. 'Huh?' he said. "Oh, through the door. I guess you forgot to lock 
it.' " 

"Oh, Gail, no!" Sally wailed. 

Gail shrugged. "Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. Last night I forgot. But 
it's always been a dull quiet neighborhood where nothing' ever happens. Just 
my luck, it had to be on the one night where I was bushed for sleep." 

Sally knew a little something about midnight intruders. She was amazed that 
Gail could be speaking so lightly after such a recent horrifying experience. 
"What happened then?" she gasped. 

"Now comes the part you won't believe," Gail said. "I started to back up to 
get my bathrobe, to throw something on. The way that kid was staring at my 
tits, I was afraid he would bore holes in them. But he saw me move and he 
put his hand in his back pocket. When he drew it back, he was holding a 
knife. He flipped his wrist and I heard the steel goo boingg or whatever 
sound it makes. And there I am staring at a six-inch switchblade knife and 
the kid is staring at my great big knockers. 

"'Don't put anything on,' he says. 'I like to look at you.' " 

"'What do you mean you like to look at me?" I said. 'You mean you've seen me 
before?' The kid nods. 'I been watching you nearly every night for a week.' 

"I looked him over, this fresh young punk kid. 'What do you mean, you've 
been watching me? Where? How?' " 

"The window?" Sally said. 

Gail nodded. "Wouldn't you know it? I guess I don't draw my curtains or 
blinds at night most of the time either. And it's always dark out there on 
the landing and I never look out. And here this dopey kid has been looking 
me over every night, he says. Honest, did I get goose pimples at that!" 

Sally shivered. She had been lucky in her life. No young popeyed strangers 
with switchblade knives had ever visited her to act upon their phantasies. 
She marveled again at Gail's composure. She was certain she would have 
fainted dead away at the intruder's feet. 

"Nice?" Gail asked. "So I said, okay so you've been a Peeping Tom. I suppose 
you know there's a law against that?" 

"Yes, but a lot of good that did you," Sally said. "He shrugged, this dopey 
redheaded kid, 'So what?' " 

Sally gasped. "Redheaded? Oh, no!" 

Gail waved her hands. "Stop thinking about Brian Barton for a couple 
seconds. I asked the kid what he wanted. He didn't say anything. Just kept 
staring. 'I don't have much money, I told him. 'But you're welcome to 
whatever I have.' Would you believe it, the punk keeps on sitting there, 
shaking his head and staring. Now his little beady eyes have shifted a 
little and I have the idea he's trying to look up my jellybox. Naturally I 
put my hands there. He shook his head kind of angrily now, and he says, 
'Don't do that. I like to look.' Well, he's still holding that big blade, 
and I didn't feel like arguing. So I took my hands away from my warm snatch 
and put them on my hips. 

"The kid says, 'Turn around.' 

"I was afraid if I turned, he'd stick the knife in me. I said, 'What for?' 
You know what he said? 'I want to look at your big beautiful ass!" 

Sally had minored in psychology courses describing the neurotic types and 
she tried to recall what she knew of the strange ones with fetishes, and the 
others known as voyeurs. Some were dangerous, but not all. It depended on 
circumstances, and your luck. Evidently, Gail had. drawn a freak. 

"I guess you obeyed him?" she said. 

Gail shrugged. "What else? I turned, and he kept me there a while, looking 
me over. I expected him to come up behind me and stick something hard in. me 
any second. Either his blade or his cock, I wasn't sure which. After about 
five minutes that seemed more like a year, he said okay, and said I should 
turn around slowly. I did as he said. Then he said I should come over to the 
bed slowly. I did that, too, trying not to get him excited, hoping my big 
boobies wouldn't sway too much." Gail paused as if trying to recall it all. 

"He still has his little piggy eyes on them but he still hasn't taken his 
pants off and he hasn't even unzipped his fly. Normally, at this point, some 
jerky freak like this would already have his cock out and either be beating 
his own meat while looking at you, or ask you to do. it and save him the 
trouble. 

"He waited till I got very close and then he said I should walk over him." 

"What?" 

Gail nodded, grimacing. "That was a new one on me, too. But I figured 
walking is better than sucking or jerking or fucking, so I did as he said." 

Sally felt her heart drumming faster. In her mind, she was trying to picture 
the situation. It was weird, didn't make sense, but of course nothing 
abnormal ever did. She said, "How did you manage it?" 

"As I got real close, he let himself fall back on the bed. You know, like 
stretched out. I got one foot up on the bed and then the other and now I was 
straddling him. The bed was kind of bouncy and I was afraid I would lose my 
balance and fall right on that switchblade of his. He must have seen what 
was going on in my mind, because he suddenly nodded, and hit the button, and 
the blade slid back inside. Then he nodded for me to go ahead. I put one 
toot out real easy now and it touched his knee. I looked down at him and he 
nodded, and I figured, what the hell, if this dumb kid wants to be 
flattened, I'll be happy to oblige. I got one foot on his right leg, and he 
was smiling. I had a choice for my next step, and I think that was really 
what was in the kid's mind. Can you guess?" 

Sally wrinkled her brow. "You mean, he wanted you to step on -- on it?" 

Gail nodded forcefully. "On his cock, you mean? Sure, what else? But I 
wasn't sure what would happen if I did. I mean, maybe he would get his rocks 
off when I touched him, or else maybe I would hurt his balls. Then he would 
have a good reason for getting mad and sticking me with his shiv." 

Yes, Sally thought, grateful that she had never encountered this type of 
erratic person. "I don't know what I would have done, Gail, in a similar 
situation. What did you do?" 

"I decided to play it cool. The kid was apparently just a looker, that kind 
of voyeur, see? And I decided if that was his game, I'd give him enough to 
look at and get his mind off other things. Anyway, instead of stepping on 
his cock and balls next, as he expected, I stepped over them and got one leg 
on his other knee. It was hard holding my balance that way, one foot on each 
knee of this jerky kid, and I swayed and had to fling my arms out to hold my 
balance. Well, naturally, when you do that, your whole upper body goes into 
motion, you know?" 

Gail pantomimed her movements, holding her arms straight out to her sides. 
Then she stepped up on the sofa near Sally and carefully put one foot down 
and then the other. She swayed and shook. Sally had a tingling sensual 
impression of Gail's beautiful breasts swaying from side to side. 

"Get it?" Gail asked. "My tits were shaking up a storm. And when the dumb 
kid tried to take his eyes off them, I just put one foot very gently on his 
belly. At this moment, he had a low. level view looking straight up my 
snatch between my legs. And as I kept my leg on his tummy, I gently rolled 
my foot and -- bingo!" 

"Bingo?" Sally said. 

Gail nodded. "Bingo! The kid came right in his pants!" 

Sally gasped. "Then what happened?" 

Gail waved her arms, stepping out with one shapely leg, and looking down. 
"The kid didn't know what to do! He was so embarrassed he ran right between 
my legs, I swear. Right straight out the door, holding his crotch and I 
think he was still coming when he ran out the door." 

Sally blew out her cheeks. "Gosh, you were lucky. But you said something 
over the phone -- I forget what exactly -- about it bothering you? What 
happened then?" 

"Simple," Gail said. "I was all hot and bothered. The kid didn't do 
anything. I turned and tossed all night." Her eyes gleamed as she looked 
down at Sally. "I don't suppose you have sly good ideas?" 

Looking at Gail, Sally could feel herself moistening between her legs. She 
remembered how it had been the night before. Unbidden, she raised her arms. 

Gail let herself down slowly, until her warm cunt was inches away from 
Sally's upturned face. "Would you -- please?" 

Sally smiled, pulling her closer, feeling the soft wet lovespot of Gail on 
her mouth. Then, she was kissing it and sucking the warm, soft insides, 
feeling Gail gasp with ecstasy, feeling herself gripped and driven, by a 
strange madness, as if she had to devour this lovely cunt so conveniently 
placed at her mouth. 

CHAPTER SEVEN 

Brian Barton sat at his desk going over the list on the paper in his hand. 
It spelled out in detail what he and his research crew had been digging up 
for the past few months. A car put out by American Cartel, one of the most 
powerful in the auto industry, had been proven a death trap. The car, called 
Pithon was, as its name indicated, deadly. Under careful tests, it had 
failed every available safety standard. Brakes would lock, and fail. The 
steering mechanism was faulty, linked with a pin made of porous metal that 
overheated and consequently split, sending the car hopelessly out of 
control. If this wasn't enough, the gasoline tank was not protected and 
subject to any rear-end collision would ignite and explode, trapping the 
car's occupants in a blazing inferno. 

Barton trusted his mechanical research team, but as with everything he was 
involved in, had insisted upon test-driving the Pithon himself. It had been 
a hair-raising adventure and he could only thank his lucky stars that he was 
still alive after the field test, leaving the car a hopeless wreck. 

Lobby Logic dealt with all matters of health and safety pertaining to the 
public. If the consumer used a product that in any way. proved deleterious 
to his welfare, it was Barton's job as acting head of the foundation to 
bring the matter to the attention of the authorities. Sometimes it was 
necessary to bring suit, representing a massive public lawsuit, against the 
manufacturer to bring him to heel if the various commissions were unwilling 
to act. Many cases had been settled out of court, the manufacturer proving 
unwilling to undergo the force of Barton's claims as brought out by the 
media. Some had been adjudged by the courts, resulting in restraint orders, 
others in modification of the product. The public was becoming aware of the 
zeal with which Barton pursued those who would infringe upon the tenets of 
the law, the unscrupulous ones who considered only profit as their aim, and 
the safety and regard of the public as negligible. 

Single-handed, Barton had proven to be a thorn in the sides of those who had 
little regard for the masses, and his list of triumphs was growing. He was 
becoming dangerous, he knew; a marked man. His opponents were rich, 
powerful, and ruthless. They were individuals, true, but they would 
willingly combine and work together to drive him from their sight. He was 
interfering with their profits, their arrogant way of life. These people 
weren't accustomed to being questioned about their products or their 
methods. 

The incident with Emma Barton's agent, Hocking, and his secretary was only 
one of the many ways they had used to get back at him. He had been followed 
by hired thugs, beat up, left a bloodied hulk, and yet he recovered and 
bounced back to have at them again. Private detectives had been hired to spy 
on him, to find some weakness in his personal armor. His whole life had been 
sifted through under careful scrutiny to find some evidence of malfeasance. 
That nothing had been as yet discovered meant little to the robber barons 
out to get him. They would keep trying, believing that every man has his 
price and is corruptible. 

Barton, knowing all this, was careful to form no ties. He had no close 
personal friends, and since the unfortunate marriage with Emma Hooker, heir 
to millions -- his sole mistake when he was young and as yet uninvolved in 
his battles with big business -- he had been. extremely careful to form no 
new alliances of an amorous nature. 

His private and personal. life was austere and simple. He owned no car 
himself, and those he used to get around were rented and changed frequently. 
He had no phone in his apartment, no frills, no television, no gadgets. He 
lived simply, ate simply, spent his days and nights buried in studies and 
his law books, searching for ways to combat the giant trusts. The trusts 
hired the most competent lawyers in the country and he had to make doubly 
sure of his grounds before he ever launched an attack. 

Turning the page in his hand to another listing of the dangers in candles, 
he studied the report his research group had come up with, giving compelling 
evidence that millions of candles available to the public, and already sold 
to them, contained wicks that could cause lead poisoning. In view of the 
current energy crisis, Barton could foresee an increased usage of candles 
and the danger existing. 

He glanced quickly down the page listing the demerits. There were several 
brands involved. A small yellow candle and a large round blue candle in a 
decordated container, both made by a well-known household detergent firm. 
One was for decorative .purposes, the other for warming food. This latter 
one was the product of a leading electric appliance company and its recently 
organized subsidiary. 

Barton noted the facts. The core was a thin wire-like strand about which the 
wick was wound. It was made of lead and when it burned, fumes were created 
which were dangerous when inhaled -- especially in the confines of a closed 
room, whether house or apartment. In addition, particles of lead were thrown 
off which could settle upon food and be eaten. 

Barton nodded. He would have to notify the Consumer Products Safety 
Commission first, ask its agency to collect other samples and begin an 
immediate testing program. He scribbled a notation at the bottom of the 
sheet. Will go with this after proper period allowed for agency testing. 
Check back two weeks. (Signed) Barton. 

He turned the page to another sheet. This one was concerned with the hazards 
in toys for children. It listed an imposing array of dangerous factors. 
Glass and plastic items that would break and cut. Handles that were 
decorated with lead paint Doll heads painted with positively identified 
poisonous dyes. Carts and cars with improperly welded wheels suggesting 
falls and accidents. Toys that would explode. Toys that would send up 
poisonous smoke. Toys that would melt and cling to the skin and form rashes. 
Toys that would bounce back at unpredictable angles, capable of breaking 
other objects at hand. Toys that would wear out or break after but one brief 
tryout. Toys that frightened children into nightmares. Martial toys that 
could injure. 

Barton whistled. The list went on and on. He put the paper down, shaking his 
head. This was too big a list and 'there were too many manufacturers 
involved for him to tackle now. He made a notation to the research team 
captain to link as many products as possible with single manufacturers. 
Meanwhile he would send letters to them, notifying them of the effects of 
their field tests, suggesting ways they could be sued for damages should 
they not better their, product. 

Sighing, he threw his pen down. There was still a lot of work to be done and 
here he was without his secretary. He glanced at his watch. Sally had been 
gone for two hours now. Well, he couldn't blame her. He expected her to take 
whatever time was needed to help Gail. But, dammit, right now he needed 
someone to take shorthand, type some letters. 

His desk intercom buzzed and he flipped the switch. "Yes?" 

"Mr. Barton, this is Linda Dove." 

"Who?" 

"Linda Dove, the new temporary receptionist." 

He thought Sally had mentioned the name but couldn't be certain. "Yes, Miss 
Dove. What is it?" 

"I'm just filling in for your regular receptionist, you know. But there's 
nothing much to do out here and I wondered if you needed some shorthand or 
typing done. I'm very good at that Very fast. So I'm offering to help out if 
you do need me." 

Barton smiled. "That's kind of you, Miss Dove. But if you come in here to 
work for me, who's going to watch the reception desk?" 

She laughed. "Well, it's confusing but I've figured it out. Your regular 
secretary is out now, right?" 

"Miss Parker? Yes. But I expect her back within a few hours." 

"Okay, I wasn't sure because she. didn't say when she left. But one of your 
girls in the steno pool came in with a sprained wrist and can't do her work. 
So you can't use her as a sub either. But she's willing to come out here and 
pick up the phone, which she can do. So I'm free, if you want, to do 
whatever you need. Okay?" 

"That's fine, Miss Dove. Come in when you have everything squared away at 
your desk." 

"Will do." 

He flipped back the switch, leaned back, folded his hands behind his head 
and smiled in satisfaction. He was always pleased when an employee would 
volunteer for extra duty, knowing how the typical one would rather sit 
around and do as little as possible, consumed by boredom, waiting only for 
the day to end. 

Sally was the dedicated worker type, he thought, always ready, always 
willing to do whatever he asked, no matter how much overtime she had to 
work. In, the short time she had been with his organization, he had called 
upon her time and again when pressure built up and he needed fast and 
efficient communication. She was an excellent secretary, a good typist, and 
fast at shorthand. She had never once questioned anything he asked her to 
do, merely smiling and getting right to it. Come to think of it, he 
wondered, was the girl at least getting the proper salary for such loyalty 
and diligence? Although Lobby Logic was not affluent, nevertheless there was 
enough funding to afford proper pay for the staff. Sally Parker had never 
questioned her salary, had never once asked for a raise. It was about time 
he looked into it, he decided. Perhaps by the time she returned, he would 
have found a reasonable enough provocation to offer her more money. He 
nodded to himself, pleased at the thought. 

Brian found the ledger in his desk drawer with the information he needed, 
and nodded again. As he thought, she had come in to work originally at a 
fairly low salary and it had never been adjusted. Not fair, he thought, 
shaking his head. He reached for his pad and scribbled a brief notation: Up 
Miss Parker's. While he screwed up his features trying to decide how much to 
increase her salary, he happened to notice what he had scribbled on the memo 
pad, Up Miss Parker's, he thought grinning, could be wildly interpreted. 
Underneath the scrawl, he hastily wrote weekly. Then he looked at it again 
and grinned. Still bordering on the preposterous. 

He was still trying to decide how much to add to Sally's present weekly 
salary when there was a timid knock on his office door. He barked a 
response, the door opened, and in walked a stunning long-legged blonde. 

Brian blinked following the lines of her curving voluptuous body, the high 
jutting breasts clearly visible under the sheer see-through blouse, the 
narrow waist, the curving hips, the long slender legs, and delicate ankles. 
Her eyes were a light blue, her nose pert, her mouth red-lipped and her 
blonde hair reached to her shoulders. He was about to ask what she was doing 
in his office and then he noticed the short secretarial pad in her hand and 
the fistful of pencils. As she came closer` undulating gracefully, she 
half-turned giving him a view of her lovely swelling buttocks. 

"You are Linda Dove?" he said hoarsely. 

"Yes, Mr. Barton. I don't believe we've met before. And I've heard so much 
about you, and always wanted to meet you, and here I am working for you. 
Isn't that marvy?" 

Jestingly, he echoed her word. "Marry, Miss Dove. I hope the reality 
justifies your imagination's work." 

She threw her head back and stroked her long hair, smiling. "You have no 
idea. Mr. Barton. Men like yourself are in the minority, I have found out." 

Barton shrugged, muttered, "We do what we can do." 

She stepped to the chair at the Corner of his desk and sat. He was impressed 
with her feline grace, watching her body flow in one continuous easy 
movemenu that was sensual and yet natural to a beautiful woman. 

Linda raised her pad so that he could see it. "Any time you're ready, Mr. 
Barton. I imagine that you're anxious to get started." 

He nodded curtly, picked up the sheaf of papers from his desk and began to 
dictate. At first, he went slowly but soon discovered that this new blonde 
receptionist-stenographer-typist could. keep up with him easily. He sighed, 
relieved, and increased his pace. The blonde nodded and moved her hand in 
time with his words. Her speed was uncanny, he thought. 

Barton moved from one piece of correspondence to another, thoroughly alert 
now to his dictation, able to move quickly without hesitation now as the new 
girl kept up with him. 

They went on, Barton speaking quickly, the girl nodding 'her blonde head, 
scribbling her curlicues, seemingly absorbed in what she was doing, never 
checking back, never at a loss as to his meaning. Barton was absolutely 
delighted. This girl was a find and he determined in his mind to make sure 
that her employment with his organization was better than the temporary one 
that had brought her here. He wanted to ask her by what good fortune she had 
been directed to. his offices, but there was so much work to be done now and 
she was proving so adept and efficient at it, he put it out of his mind. 
Sally had lost a. lot of her work day the preceding day because of the rough 
incident with Hocking. Now a good part of this day's work had been lost too 
because, of the incident with her new friend Gail Troll. He couldn't blame 
her for what had taken place but he was aware of the need to keep up with 
his large correspondence. 

Ruthlessly, he kept talking, and the new girl Linda Dove moved along with 
him, folding her little pad back as she completed each new piece of 
dictation. He watched her taking his dictation so easily, relaxed in her 
chair. Her legs were crossed, one leg high on the knee of the other. Her 
brief skirt was pushed back and he caught a glimpse of her shapely rounded 
thighs, and, again shook his head. Incredible for a girl to be so beautiful, 
he thought, and at the same time to prove so efficient. He knew before the 
day was out, he would make her an offer. 

They had gone through several communications when Barton became aware that 
the stately blonde was turning her head in erratic motions and blinking. 
"Anything wrong, Miss Dove?" 

She shook her head firmly and he thought perhaps he had imagined it. A 
moment later, her head lolled and he had the impression she was ill. 

"If you're not well, we can continue later," he said. 

"Oh, no," she said. "I'm fine, just fine." Her eyes looked into his, 
wavered, and suddenly the steno pad slipped from her hand. She reached down 
to get it from the floor and slowly slipped from her chair. 

Barton leaped from his seat and came around the desk. The girl was on her 
hands and knees, apparently unable to get up. He reached down and put his 
hands on her waist. Even through her dress, he. felt her skin incredibly 
soft and warm, the flesh resilient and youthful. "Here. Let me help you up." 

He pulled her to her feet and she collapsed against him. "Oh, I feel so 
dizzy," she said. 

Barton puzzled by this sudden collapse thought of seating her again until 
she felt better. But she leaned heavily now on his arm, and he could feel 
the weight of her breasts like living things. 

Her voice came weak and tremulous. "Oh, I knew I shouldn't have come in 
today. It's that darn virus." 

His hand tightened against her waist and as he took the full weight of her 
body, strange feelings stirred in his loins. "Virus?" he said. 

 "I was out all last week with it. But I felt better today and then this 
chance came to get some work, and I thought I could manage it. I'm so sorry, 
Mr. Barton." 

"It's all right," he said, genuinely concerned. "After you rest a while, 
perhaps you'd better take the day off. It's possible that you came to work a 
trifle too soon. And don't worry about it, please. As soon as you recover, I 
want you to come back here again and I'll find a steady position for you." 

"Oh, you're so kind." She looked around vaguely and blinked. 

He threw the steno pad on his desk. "Don't worry about it. We'll continue 
next time, when you're better. Now do you think you can get home yourself?" 

She nodded. "Oh, yea, thanks. I'm fine. So sorry." 

He let her go carefully and watched her movements. She took a few steps, 
wavered and seemed about to ` fall. Barton caught up with her. His arm went 
around her waist and again she leaned on him. 

"Here," he said. "Let me help you. I'll walk you out to your car. Do you 
think you're all right to drive?" 

"Oh, yes. Please don't trouble -- " 

He got her out the door and went out his private side entrance to avoid any 
chance encounter with his staff. It was. becoming ridiculous, he thought. 
Some demon force was operating against him getting his work done. First 
Sally and then Hocking and then Gail and Sally again, needing to go to her 
aid, and now this new sensational secretary replacement. He wondered if 
perhaps it was his own fault and that he was driving the help to the limits 
of their endurance. 

As they went along the narrow corridor, his arm held Linda Dove tightly 
locked to his side. 'Her waist was so narrow that his arm went nearly around 
her easily and his wrist was directly under the center point of her breasts. 
As they walked slowly, he felt them bouncing against his arm, and although 
he felt cheap about it, he could not resist slightly turning his hand to 
have them rest on his palm. 

They were so soft, he had to struggle and use all' his self-discipline to 
keep from grasping them in his hands. It was just as well, he thought, that 
they encountered nobody on their way out. It wouldn't have looked at all 
well, he thought, for the boss to be seen steadying a beautiful blonde 
along, carrying her half-draped limply on his body, his arm wrapped around 
her like some sinuous rope. He felt his face flush, the faint dew of 
perspiration. 

They reached the parking lot. "Which is your car?" Barton asked. "Then we'll 
see if you can drive." 

She pointed limply to the near corner where visitors were allotted slots. 
"The yellow Pithon," she said. 

Barton stiffened.' The car that he had spent so much of his time researching 
for flaws, the one responsible for so many accidents and fatalities. "How do 
you like it?" be asked. 

"Oh, it's super," she said. 

Yes, he thought, how odd that they all said that. The car looked a dream, 
streamlined and so deftly contoured that anybody would feel attracted to its 
lines. The engine was powerful, generating over 300 horsepower, and that too 
was an impressive feature. It was easy to understand its popularity. The 
fresh bright plastic colors, the streamlined body, the svelte 
leather-simulated upholstery, all the chrome and gadgets. It wasn't until 
one got into the car and put it through its paces that one knew what the car 
could do. And nobody could predict at what point of stress the Pithon would 
balk and strike back. It could be driven for hundreds of Miles safely and 
with no hint of failure, and then suddenly it would happen. The rear end 
disengaged. The front wheel lock. The yawing drift on turns that was not 
correctable. 

He got the door open and looked down at the girl. She seemed so fragile and 
helpless as she stood there, trusting his strength to hold her up. 

Barton set his jaw in a grim line, his mind made up. "Get in," he said 
firmly. "I'll drive you home." 

She protested weakly but he was adamant. Finally, she let herself be 
persuaded. "I'm so awfully sorry to inconvenience you this way, Mr. Barton." 

"Nonsense," he said. "I've always wanted to drive this baby. Now I've got 
the chance. Just tell me where you live." 

Linda rested on the leather-like interior and he slid in behind her. He 
reached across the seat to buckle her in and again his hands burned at her 
warm resilient flesh. He pulled the sash tightly around her waist and again 
his hands brushed her breasts. They seemed alive as birds, ready to take off 
in flight. 

She banded him the keys from her purse and he started the ignition. As he 
backed out of the lot, he saw her dress was hiked up again offering him a 
look at her lovely thighs. He forced his eyes away and concentrated on the 
turn. When he got out of the lot, her eyes were closed. Her blonde head 
lolled back. One arm was flung carelessly across the seat. It rested on his 
thigh and as he turned the wheel her hand came to rest almost directly on 
his fly. 

Barton felt his loins stir, his core beginning to harden. He chewed at his 
lip, looked sideways at the blonde, saw her eyes closed, saw her breasts 
rise and fall easily. 

Asleep already, he thought. The kid really must be ill. Her band. moved 
gently across his trousers and he knew he was going to have a beautiful 
bard-on before they made the corner. 

He shrugged. What the hell! 

CHAPTER EIGHT 

Barton drove the Pithon carefully. He wanted no more accidents this day. 
Linda Dove's hand remained where she had let it drop when she dozed off, 
resting lightly on his fly. At times she twitched and moved and feeling her 
fingers move across the fabric of his pants made Barton horny and anxious to 
get the ride over with. The girl opened her eyes at times as if to check her 
surroundings. Once she moved her hand away, as if conscious of where it had 
somehow strayed. Barton, gritting his teeth, willed her hand back and then 
when her head lolled, and she closed her eyes again, he watched it slowly 
move as if on invisible tracks until again it rested on top of his aching 
cock. 

It had been along time since Brian Barton had been out with a woman, and a 
much longer time since he had been even close to one like this stacked 
beauty. Although women found him attractive and tried to engage him, he was 
shy by nature and suspicious. He couldn't afford to let himself get 
involved. He knew how mistaken he had been. 

Perhaps he had been working too hard, he thought now. He thought he had 
erected an ironclad facade that would protect him always from involvement 
after the disastrous affair with his first wife. Losing himself in the idea 
and principles of Lobby Logic had seemed the perfect solution. If a man kept 
busy, he would have no time to be tempted. He could keep all the hellcats of 
Satan away merely by being unavailable. 

It all boiled down to the equation of the greater good as against his own. 
He had opted to deny himself and serve the vast public. Selflessness, that 
was his creed. A man needed very little to exist. Creature comforts could be 
denied. The pleasures of the flesh could be resisted. One merely kept his 
eyes straight on the goal ahead. That way was the way of the ancient 
mystics, the holy men of the East. They had learned to purge themselves of 
the boiling blood in their veins, to insulate themselves against all 
temptation. They learned not to want, not to desire, to exist only for the 
calm purifying serenity of their thoughts. That way was the road to Nirvana. 

Barton turned the last corner approaching Linda's address, feeling her hand 
dig deeper into his crotch, seeing her relaxed sleeping body slide, her legs 
apart showing her glowing bare thighs. He shook his head. Nirvana was the 
way for the fanatics, he realized now. A far better way of life existed in 
the shapely package dozing lightly merely inches away from him. Barton 
groaned. 

The girl came awake when he stopped the car, looking about her with a 
bewildered air as if unaware how she had arrived in front of her building. 

"This it, Linda?" Barton asked. 

"Oh, yes, thank you. That's my parking place, the last stall under the 
overhang." 

He unfastened her seat belt and helped her out. She seemed to have recovered 
and was able to take a few steps without wavering. She pointed upward. "I'm 
up one flight. The stairs are around the side." 

"Perhaps I'd better walk you up," Barton said. "Might as well see that you 
get inside all in one piece." 

"That's very nice of you, Mr. Barton. I can't thank you enough. I don't know 
what came over me. I -- I felt so weak and dizzy. I think I slept all the 
way here." She darted a quick anxious glance at him. "Did I snore?" 

He shook his head. He couldn't tell her she had a far better habit. His 
erection had diminished but he was still conscious of a prickling feeling 
there. She took his arm leading him to the steps. Then she let go and walked 
up a few steps ahead of him. 

"I'd better get my land legs back," she said gaily. 

He watched her go up; watching the marvelous buttocks tantalizingly close as 
they swayed inches away. Her legs flashed under her short skirt. As they 
reached the landing, she turned. "Do you have time to come in for a moment?" 

He nodded curtly and she walked quickly ahead to open her door. But as she 
reached for her key, she wavered again and the key ring slipped from her 
fingers. 

"I'll get them, Linda." He stooped and retrieved them. He got the door open 
and his hand was around her again as he led her inside. 

"I'm all right now," she said. "How can I ever thank you?" 

He shrugged. "It was nothing really, Linda. I hope you get over whatever you 
have, soon. Is there anything I can get for you before I leave?" 

She thought about it. Then she stepped close to him, her face upturned. 
Barton didn't remember how it happened but then he was kissing her. Her lips 
were warm on his and her tongue flicked inside his mouth searching for his. 
Her hands dropped to her sides as his arms went around her, and then he felt 
her hands at his fly. 

"Um-h," she said in a husky voice. "I can see that I'm not the only one here 
with a big problem." 

Barton didn't know quite how to answer her. He stood stock still letting her 
fingers explore the middle of his fly. She pressed hard, against his cock 
and he felt it leap and harden in response. 

"We'll have to do something about that, I guess," she said. He couldn't 
believe it when she got his fly open. Then she had his cock in her warm hand 
and was pulling it out of his pants. "Oh, it's a big one. I'll have to suck 
this big popper." 

Linda sank slowly to 'her knees. He stared down stupidly as she took his 
cock into her mouth. Her fingers pulled his balls out and she jiggled them 
in her hand. Then she slid her warm lips down along his hard shaft. He felt 
warm and stupidly formal in his coat and shrugged it off and threw it on the 
sofa. Then he loosened his tie. Meanwhile he :felt his entire being 
vibrating to the exquisite things she was doing to his cock. 

"Sit down," she said. "I want you to really enjoy it." 

Dazed, he let himself fall back on the sofa. Her eyes were dreamy and then 
she closed them as she sucked and pulled at his cock. Her breasts were too 
close now for him to resist and he reached out to grab them with both hands. 

"Oh, that's marvy," she murmured. "Go on, squeeze them, please. Twist them 
hard. Rub my nips. I love it." 

As he gripped tighter on her breasts and twisted them in his strong hands, 
she moaned happily. Her mouth gripped tighter on his inflamed cock and she 
began fluting movements with her tongue. Barton began to quiver. 

Linda prodded him with her fingernails too as she sucked and Barton began to 
moan softly as his passion became more heated. Linda jerked her head, like a 
terrier with a mouse, sucking fiercely, making soft growling noises and 
Barton was perspiring, feeling the hot agony building up inside his balls, 
his loins on fire. He rocked on the sofa as she took more and more of his 
cock into her throat until finally he was coming, shooting his load jetlike 
into her avid mouth. 

As Barton rocked and moaned, she took him deeply into her throat while 
milking his cock with tight lips and her fingers with one hand, squeezing 
his blasting balls with the other. She swallowed his juices avidly, 
greedily. 

"Um, that was yummy." 

When she lifted her head up, he saw her lovely eyes were unfocussed as if 
her driving passion had unsettled her mind. Before he could say anything, 
she was back at his cock again, giving him more head, purring contentedly. 
Her mouth clung to his long distended glistening shaft and she jerked her 
head from side to side as if trying to tear his cock out by its roots. Again 
her fingers tickled and played with his balls, and he was ready again 
easily. When he came, it was another storm breaking inside him and as he 
shot his gobs of semen inside her mouth, she devoured it as happily as if it 
were a milkshake. 

"I'm sorry," she said. "It's been such a long time for me without a man, I 
guess I just went -- well, ape. Did I do a good job on your cock?" 

Barton struggled for words. He couldn't find any handy, nodded instead, 
gulping for air. She grinned up at him. "It's okay. I know you liked it. 
Here's more fun for you. You've been working too hard." 

He stared as if hypnotized as she got out of her dress. Her breasts hung in 
her bra heavily and she reached behind her back impatiently and then they 
were free. Barton seized them impetuously, then leaned down to mouth them. 

As she took her skirt off, he could see her pubic hair through her sheer 
pink panties, almost determine the moistness in her crotch. She smiled up at 
him shamelessly and shrugged them off here hips: Barton stared shifting his 
eyes from her faultless breasts to her rounded belly and the flaring hips 
and the damp patch between her thighs. 

Taking one of his hands, she placed it squarely on her vulva. Then she moved 
her hips and Barton felt her moistening. She moved slowly at first, pressing 
hard against his hand, welcoming its pressure. Then she moved closer and his 
hand had somehow found her clit and she moaned delightedly. She began to 
move faster, then almost frenziedly, and when she began to quiver he knew 
she was ready. She held tightly to him as her orgasm overpowered her. Then 
she reached for him, pulled his head down, and glued her lips on his. 

She stood up and held his hand. She tugged leaning back and Barton 
understood. He followed her into her bedroom. Her hands were over him again 
impatiently wrenching at his clothes. 

"Hurry up, lover man," she murmured. "I need a lot of loving fast and I 
think you can fill the bill." 

Then she was on her bed, her legs spread apart, showing him her unblinking 
pink eye between the soft flesh. She pulled him down on top of her pressing 
him tightly against her breasts, then moved up and guided his head between 
her legs. He scented her slit now and wanted it. 

His mind detached itself crazily. An inner voice censored him. "What is 
Lobby Logic doing down here?" He tried to ignore it, tried to lose himself 
in the girl's tempting flesh. She was rolling around, writhing sensually 
like an animal in heat. 

"Oh, loving man, loving man," she. cooed. "You do have one big sweet cock." 

Barton nodded, plunging toward her, ignoring the warning signals going off 
in his head. What was happening? This was crazy -- he didn't even know the 
girl. 

Was it a trap? 

Most women liked him for his mind, others for his stern and uncompromising 
attitudes, his character. 

Now he was being loved and adored for his cock. He found himself responding 
to this turn of events in a visceral way, his emotions overriding his 
intellect. The girl was turning him on so wildly, he wondered if it could be 
love! 

Could it be true? Could he really love? 

Barton wasn't sure any more. There was a time, he remembered, but it was 
long ago. Yes, he thought, he had the makings of a stud then. Could fuck and 
fuck all day and night. But then the old lawyer whom he respected so had 
gotten to him, pointed out the path he had to follow, warned him that he had 
to give up the indulgences of the flesh if he wanted to make the most of his 
life. 

Fucking was out. Big business was the target. 

Barton sweated. No, they were wrong, all of them wrong. The body came first. 
You had to listen to the body and obey its urgencies. Otherwise you were 
nothing but a hulk of nothing. 

Barton couldn't remember a sweeter experience than when he kissed her cunt, 
licking her slit, wallowing in the glory of her sensuous loins. He went at 
it inch by inch like a worm crossing an impossible barrier, licking her 
clot, her major and minor labia, then dipping his tongue inside her 
pulsating vagina. 

"Oh, I love a man going down on me," she gasped. "Come on, lover, eat me 
quick. I got to come." 

Then she was twisting and shuddering as he massaged her cunt with his lips 
and tongue, dipping his face deeply info her flowing juices. When she came, 
she clawed at his back ripping him with her finger-nails, screaming in her 
ecstasy. Barton winced but loved her reaction. He couldn't recall ever 
pleasing a woman that much. 

Linda slipped her wet thighs closer around his face and he gripped her 
buttocks from behind pressing himself deeper into her drenching love spot. 
He gripped and stroked her soft smooth buttocks and fingered the deft 
between the plump cheeks and she gasped again with pleasure. He licked 
harder with his tongue curled snakelike, and then she began to quiver and 
shake again, clawing at him, ripping flesh off his bare back as she orgasmed 
in a tremendous convulsion. 

She stared up at him misty-eyed. "Okay, lover boy, now I'm ready to get 
fucked. I want that big hard cock of yours way up inside me, so far that I 
can taste it in my throat. I want your balls shoved right up my snatch. Come 
on, baby, let's fuck." 

She raised herself and straddled him. Then she grabbed his stiff cock and 
slowly eased her body down on it. She sank lower and lower until she rested 
on the hilt and he felt her warm plump buttocks on his balls. 

"Umm, that is nice," she said. She wiggled her hips trying to get all of his 
cock and when she had it she began to ride him, going up and down, murmuring 
with closed eyes, head. thrown back in ecstasy. "Oh, do I ever love to 
fuck," she said. "Come on, Daddy, screw the hell out of me!" 

He began to move, timing his movements to thrust upward against her, 
clutching at her breasts, squeezing them tightly. She loved being 
manhandled, that was evident, and ' the harder he gripped her breasts, the 
louder she moaned her pleasure. 

Brian held her tighter and thrust more fiercely, feeling the hot juices 
boiling inside his loins. Her juices had wet her thoroughly now and her 
thighs were wet. He could hear his cock slopping around inside her, almost 
tasting the inner sweetness of her cunt. 

She began to quiver again and moan, and Barton was close himself now and he 
thrust harder. "Oh, here I go, here I come, hold me, Daddy!" she cried. 

He thrust again and felt himself exploding inside her. 

"Oh, that's it! Shove it up me, darling, kill me with your stiff cock, let 
me have it all, baby ... Ooooh ... that's it ... oooh ... I'm coming again 
... ohhhhh!" 

Seconds later, they both collapsed on the bed and he felt the sheets wet 
beneath him. His back was tender where she had clawed away his flesh with 
her fingernails but Barton loved the torture. It made him feel more a man 
now, less a walking automaton. His hand went for her crotch and he felt' her 
damp pulsing cunt. His mind reeled as he again yielded to the old 
animalistic urges he had been persuaded to put behind him. 

She detached herself from him and said she wanted to take a leak and a 
shower. Barton grinned at her frankness. He watched her move away in her 
naked beauty, her body a curving line of vitality and youth. He shook his 
head. What an ass he had been! To give up moments like these was the height 
of idiocy, and he had prided himself on being an intelligent man. 

Brian sat up and reached for one of her cigarettes. He threw the match 
aside, savoring the acrid smoke. He had given up smoking, too. Another of 
the man-made invented evils! 

It tastes good, he told himself. I'll worry about it tomorrow. 

Linda came back wearing a short clinging robe. He wanted to grab her again 
but decided to wait. His cock ached and he felt drained. Out of practice, 
dammit! "Mind if I use your shower?" 

"Hurry up," she said. "I want to suck your cock again." 

He almost chortled as he hurried to the bathroom. She was like a child, a 
helpless thrall to her lusts. She had the right idea, Barton thought, 
marching off. 

He turned on the hot water in the shower, rinsed, soaped, turned the water 
to cold and rinsed off again. He found towels and dried himself off. He 
turned his shoulders to survey the marks she had given him. The blood had 
washed off, but even so he could see the thin raking lines of her 
fingernails. Barton grinned. 

Medals of love. 

When he came back, she was waiting lying on her back, the robe discarded. 
She rolled over and he threw himself upon her and began kissing her, rubbing 
his face between her buttocks. She murmured softly and let him nose around, 
and then she went to her side and grabbed his cock in her fist. 

She began to lick and suck him again and when he got very big and hard, she 
sighed contentedly. "Daddy, you got a cock like a big donkey. Let's use it." 

She put it between her legs and moved around with her hips as she eased it 
inside her snatch. She let her hips grind in a slow circular movement and 
Barton went along for the ride. He pressed his face against her breasts and 
began to chew on her nipples. She cried out happily, almost squealing her 
joy. 

"Ah, I like that ... eeeoooo, that's good ... bite the nips, lover ... 
harder ... ahhh, that's it ... oh, gee, woweee!" She began to move with hips 
receding and thrusting and he rode her, ramming her pistonlike, jamming his 
cock hard in her cunt, feeling his shaft go deeper with each thrust until 
his balls pressed and flapped against her bushy mound. 

* * * 

The buildup toward orgasm was slower this time for them both and Barton was 
in no hurry to end it all, doubting if he could have another. Then she began 
to gasp and he felt her tighten and quiver, and he was brought along on his 
own inner wave. She screamed again and clawed at his shoulders as her body 
was convulsed with the force of her orgasm and then Barton groaned and shot 
his load inside her. 

She moved frantically to entice the last drop from him, then sagged back 
contentedly. She shook her head, her hair damp now. "Wow-eee!" she said. 
"You are really something!" 

Barton nodded" silently smiling, feeling he had earned the accolade. He felt 
stronger, more alive than he had been in years. Was that all it took -- a 
little bit of pussy? 

Something nagged at him. He resisted and then glanced at his watch. He 
stared at the hands. Two o'clock ! 

* * * 

"What are you doing?" 

"I just noticed the time. It's two o'clock. I've been out of the office 
almost three hours!" 

She grinned. "So what? Wasn't it worth it?" 

He slapped at her bare fanny and she shrieked. "You know it was," he said. 
Then, perversely, the unbidden words came. "Are you feeling all right now?" 

She wagged her head, unaware of his dig. "Umm, you bet! Never felt better." 

"Not duty or anything?" Barton said. 

"Only with orgasms, Daddy. How many did I have -- seven, eight -- I lost 
count." 

Barton was pulling on his pants. His voice came to him cold and distant, and 
he hated the sound of it. "Virus all gone?" 

"Virus -- what virus?" She stared Suddenly at him, her face drained of 
color. "Oh, I see what you mean." "Yes. It was a very sudden recovery. But 
then it also was a very sudden attack of virus, wasn't it?" 

She recoiled from his stinging tone, his harsh face. "What's wrong?" 

He levelled his finger sharply. "Who sent you over to my office?" 

"Why, the employment office," she stammered. 

"Which one? What's its name?" 

She struggled to think, eyes frightened. "I -- I can't remember. Hey, what 
is this? What are you getting at? Say, didn't we have fun?" 

He nodded coldly. "Lots of fun. But suddenly I have the distinct feeling it 
all happened too fast. That you were let into my offices as a plant. Were 
you?" 

She avoided his eyes. "I don't know what you mean," she said sullenly. 

Barton grabbed her wrist, swung her around. His hand flashed out rocking her 
cheek with a stinging slap. "Who sent you, Linda? Was it Emma Barton?" 

Her eyes rolled frightened. "Who?" 

He slapped her again, driving her head back. This time she flung her hands 
up protectively. "No -- don't hit me. I can't take it. Yes ... a Mrs. Barton 
called me ... gave me the lowdown. Somebody told her somehow you had a girl 
out today. I took a chance and went over. It all worked out fine, I thought: 
Until now, that is." 

He loomed over her. "What was supposed to happen?" 

She shrugged, still cowering. "I don't know. Somebody was coming over here, 
I guess. Later, at three. I was supposed to hold you till then." 

Barton put his shirt and tie on, reached for his coat. "Sorry to spoil the 
fun. I have to leave now. Too bad, in a way." 

"You mean because I was such a great speed merchant at shorthand?" 

Barton grinned. "No, it was your other talent" 

She stared. 'Which?" 

He put on his coat. "Your cocksucking." 

When he reached the door, he heard her sobbing. 

CHAPTER NINE 

Barton dropped a coin in the box at the corner gas station and called a cab. 
While waiting for one to pick him up, he had enough time to think over the 
events of the morning. He shook his head. Everything so far had been very 
unbusinesslike. 

The cab came along and he took it to the Lobby Logic office. He had made up 
his mind to personally supervise the hiring of the new receptionist 
replacement when he walked in the building and he stopped dumbfounded. 

Gail Trell smiled from behind her desk. "Good morning, Mr. Barton. Kind of 
late for you, isn't it?" 

He nodded, walked quickly back to his office. As he came in his private 
door, he heard a familiar voice. 

"Good morning, Mr. Barton." 

He whirled. "Sally! Thank goodness you're back. Did everything go all right? 
I see you brought Gail back with you." 

"Oh, yes. She'll be all right now. How did things go with you?" 

He rolled his eyes dramatically. "You'd never believe it." 

She started guiltily. If asked how her day had been spent, honesty would 
have demanded a similar answer. Gail had been warm, loving, demanding. And 
she had been easily aroused. As usual, too easily. 

It had been a continuation of where they had left off the night before, and 
they had taken turns at loving one another. Her breasts still tingled from 
Gail's touch and her love spot between her legs had been exposed not only to 
Gail's knowing mouth but her mechanical dildo, as well. 

She doubted that she could ever explain in detail how the time had been 
spent, and she hoped Brian Barton would overlook asking. She glanced up at 
him covertly now, surprised to see him looking a good deal paler than usual. 
It's all my fault, she thought. Leaving him alone here to cope and worry 
while Gail and I indulged ourselves like two thoughtless children. 

Aloud she asked, "Shouldn't I come in there and get going on some of that 
stack of correspondence you have?" 

Barton exhaled dramatically. "Be my guest." 

As she walked in, she noticed the steno book on his desk. Idly, she picked 
it up as she lowered her- self into the chair. 

"What's this?" she asked. 

Barton grinned ruefully, and rumpled his hair. "That's part of the 
unbelievable part of this morning while you were out, Sally." 

She lifted her delicate eyebrows. "You mean you hired another secretary to 
take my place?" 

Barton shook his head and cleared his throat. 

"Not -- er -- exactly. When I came in this morning, if you recall, your 
friend Gail was not at her reception desk." 

Sally nodded. "Yes, of course. But --" 

Barton went on doggedly, his eyes averted, face strained. "Later, after you 
left to pick up Gail, there was a replacement girl there. Remember?" 

Again she nodded, remembering the girl who had been at the desk reading a 
book. Taking advantage of company time, she had thought. "I remember," she 
said uneasily. "When I left to drive out to see Gail, she was there. I never 
did ask her name." 

Barton laughed shortly. "Linda Dove. Did she tell you the employment agency 
sent her over?" 

Sally frowned trying to remember. "I -- think so." 

Barton grinned sardonically. "Exactly. After you left, she called me. Said 
she had noticed I was without a secretary for the time being. She added that 
she was a pretty good one and offered to help me out -- either with 
shorthand dictation or typing." 

Sally flushed. Again she had misjudged a person. She wondered if this was 
getting to be a habit now with her. She flipped the little steno book open, 
frowning. "So this is Linda Dove's book?" 

Barton nodded. "She came in here and took several pieces of dictation before 
-- uh -- she took suddenly ill." 

"Ill," Sally asked. 

"Yes. Some kind of virus, she said, that she had been troubled with 
recently. It happened just as we were going along splendidly." 

Sally frowned again, shaking her head. Barton looked down at her, wondered 
if she was angry with him. 

"This book?" she asked. "Is this what she used taking her notes?" 

"Of course," Barton said. "And she was really very fast, too." 

Sally couldn't contain herself any longer. She started to laugh. "Well, that 
explains it," she said. "Explains what?" 

"This steno book. Have you looked at it?" 

Barton shook his head. "No. What would be the point? She still has to be 
able to read it back to transcribe it." 

"I doubt that," Sally said. "Neither she nor anybody else would be able to 
read it back to transcribe it or anything else." 

Barton stared. "What the hell are you saying?" 

Sally tossed the book on his desk. "It's not short-hand dictation. I don't 
know what it is. Just scrawls. No wonder your temporary girl was so fast. 
She was just bluffing you, Mr. Barton. She just wrote chicken tracks. 
Gibberish." 

Barton grabbed the book and opened it. As he flipped page after page, the 
muscle alongside his jaw twitched. He threw it down, at last. "Well, I'll be 
double-damned! She conned me perfectly! Nothing but hen tracks!" 

Sally looked puzzled. "But -- I don't understand. How could an agency send 
over a girl with no secretarial; experience"? 

Barton cleared his throat. "That's just the point, Sally. It didn't." 

"But then -- how did she get here?" 

Barton shrugged. "I think you can put it down- to more of my wife's work." 

"Mrs. Barton? But how could she -- ?" 

"I don't know. Somehow she got wind of Gail's temporary absence, and then 
yours. Maybe they have spotters outside. However it was done, the plan 
didn't work." 

"What plan?" 

Barton stared helplessly down at her. "I don't know that, either. All I know 
is, that when I took Miss Dove home --" 

Sally sensed his uneasiness. "You mean when she took ill?" 

"Yes. She had impressed me so with her speed and alertness, you see. I 
thought whatever it was that ailed her would clear up soon, and that we 
would have another good secretary around to help out -- er, in emergencies." 

Sally nodded. "Yes, I can see that. You had no idea then she was faking." 

Barton mopped his brow. "Naturally not. But she seemed so ill that I thought 
it unwise to let her drive herself home. She also happened to be driving one 
of those treacherous cars -- the Pithon. I've been hammering away at how 
unsafe that car is." 

"Oh, that's terrible," Sally said. "In other words, she still thinks she has 
a position here?" 

"Well, not exactly," Barton said haltingly. 

"But, Mr. Barton, you said -- " 

Barton waved his hands. "We won't have to worry any more about Linda Dove 
working here. When she recovers from her imaginary virus, I suppose Emma 
will find another assignment for her." 

"But how did you find out? I mean, about Emma --" 

Barton gnawed on his lower lip. There seemed no other way out for him but to 
admit the truth. "She seduced me," he said. 

It was Sally's turn to look dumbfounded. "You what?" 

Barton shrugged. "Well, you remember that Miss Dove was a very attractive 
girl, don't you ?" 

"I suppose," she admitted grudgingly, remembering the very attractive blonde 
with the curvaceous figure. 

Barton made a motion with his hands palms up. "Then you know how these 
things can happen. No sooner did I walk her into her apartment, than she 
seemed to fall into my arms. The rest was, well -- mechanical." 

Sally glared. "I'm sure it was." 

"Anyway," Barton said, "it's all over. I as much as told her then I 
suspected what she was up to, when I found out she wanted to keep me there. 
Then she admitted my wife put her up to it. So that's all over now. How 
about some dictation?" 

"That's what I'm here for." She crossed her legs and held her pencil poised 
over her steno pad. Barton began to dictate slowly. She wondered at his lack 
of fluency this day and suddenly discovered the reason. He was staring at 
her legs, as if seeing them for the first time. 

Sally grinned. About time he noticed her, she thought. Perhaps now that he 
had admitted having an affair so fast with the temporary Miss Dove, he might 
give her a second look from now on. 

Barton, for his part, needed no second looks. He saw what he should have 
noticed months past, perfectly formed legs. Her waist was slim too, he 
noticed, and her breasts seemed large and round. Firm, too, I'll bet, he 
thought. Incredible, he thought, that he had never taken a good look at 
Sally till now. She was pretty too, cheerful, and efficient. He groaned 
inwardly at his lack of appreciation. Here he had a jewel right at his 
fingertips and instead he had allowed himself to fall for the first sexy 
opportunist to come his way. As gullible as a schoolboy. Easy to make. 

The only good thing to come of it all was his arousal again to the demands 
and needs of his body. For too long now he had been a machine, dedicated to 
working, ignoring the demands of the flesh. Well, thanks to the company spy, 
Miss Linda Dove, he had his blood going again. Looking down and across at 
Sally's curves, he felt suddenly happier and alive. 

The phone rang. Barton impatiently picked it off the cradle. "Yes?" he 
barked. 

"Long distance calling," the operator said. "Person-to-person. Is this Mr. 
Brian Barton?" 

"Yes. Who's calling, please?" 

"Las Vegas, Nevada. Go ahead, please." 

"Hello, darling. This is Emma." 

Barton's jaw gaped. "Emma?" 

Her voice was cool, silvery, the way be remembered it. "Your ex-wife, 
darling. Surprised?" 

"Yes. Considering a lot of things, yes, I am. Surprised that you have the 
gall and effrontery to call --" 

"Please, darling," she interrupted. "That's why I'm on the phone now. I only 
just learned of the last incident with Miss Linda Dove. You'll have to take 
my word for it that it was none of my doing." 

Barton laughed harshly. "Your word? What's that worth?" 

"I know. The. record speaks for itself, as I've heard. you say too many 
times. At any rate, what happened was a trumped-up affair. Believe it or 
not, darling, there are others in this country out to get you and I have no 
priority in that regard. There are powerful people with legitimate business 
grievances against you who will stop at nothing. And in this last particular 
incident, someone used my name to get a job done. Someone, I'm sorry to say, 
whom I trusted. It won't happen again." She laughed lightly. "Of course, had 
the plot been successful, I'd have been happy to take' all the credit. I've 
never had any use for failures -- especially someone else's." 

Barton held his hand over the mouthpiece and winked down at Sally. "My wife. 
My ex," he whispered. "She's telling me the frame was none of her doing." He 
shrugged, disbelieving. 

Sally nodded. "Do you want me to leave? It sounds like a personal 
conversation." She was half out of her seat. 

Barton waved her back. His eyes took in the swelling lines of her plump 
rounded buttocks admiringly. He shook his head, pointing with his forefinger 
for her to remain. 

He cleared his throat. "All right, Emma," he said. "Let's say I believe you 
and accept your explanation. It doesn't mean a thing. There have been far 
too many instances of your vengeance and attempts to ruin me during the past 
year. This last one only one of many. And at least you provided pleasant 
temptation. Or your alleged business associate did. I can't complain about 
Miss Dove's lovemaking. She did everything an accomplished courtesan could 
do to make me happy. To "tell the truth, I enjoyed every minute of it." 

Brian sensed the bitterness and hurt in her filtered voice. "Well, all 
right. If that's the way you want. to take it. But if you want to give me 
another chance to clear myself with you, I'll tell you something more 
definite. The other day one of our agents secured some rather nasty. 
evidence in the way of simulated photos in your office -- " 

"Yes," Barton said. "Hocking. A good man with the fix. I bloodied his nose 
but he managed to get away. Next time I run into him, I hope to make the 
damage more lasting." 

"I can understand how you feel, Brian. What I'm going to say now will 
surprise you but it's the truth. I have the photos right here with me. And. 
I'm willing to turn them back to you." 

"Why?" he asked. 

"So that you won't have to suffer any Of this hideous blackmail Also the 
girl Hocking deceived and drugged. I don't want any part of this kind of 
thing. It's gotten way out of hand." 

Supposing I believe you," Barton said. "What then ?" 

"I'm staying at the Sand Dunes in Vegas. If you care to come up, I promise 
to deliver the photos to you." 

Barton frowned, wondering what she was up to. "What's the catch, Emma?" he 
asked. "Why the sudden change of heart?" 

"You won't believe this either, but it's because of that car you've been 
trying to get action against." 

"The Pithon? What about it?" "I found out the hard way that you were right. 
I drove one up here and had an accident." 

"What happened?" 

"The steering wheel locked: The car went helplessly out of control. I spun 
off the road and crashed into a parked truck." 

"Where you hurt?" 

"Only my pride, darling. But the car was demolished. Proving again what you 
have always said -about it. The accident has opened my eyes. I was really 
thinking it was 'Nearer to Thee my God' time, and it scared the holy hell 
out of me. I'd never thought about my own death before. Funny," she paused, 
"I'm almost glad the accident happened." 

"It usually does take one," Barton said. "I'm sorry you had to find out 
through personal experience. Would you be willing to sign an affidavit about 
your accident?" 

"Certainly, darling. Really, how pigheaded do you think I am? Losing you was 
one thing. What kind of love affair do you imagine I would have for a car?" 

"I have no idea," Barton said dryly. 

She laughed. "I suppose I deserved that, too. Well, it's up to you. If you 
care to retrieve the photos, I'll be perfectly willing to hand them over to 
you personally. You understand, of course, why I wouldn't risk having them 
delivered to you." 

"Yes, I suppose." There were too many ways for the photos to become diverted 
and instead sent into the hands of people anxious to tear him down and 
destroy his image with the public. He nodded, coming to a decision. "Very 
well, Emma. I'll take a chance. I'll be up there sometime late this 
evening." 

"Fine," she said. "If I'm not here, I'll leave a number where I can be 
reached. Where will you be staying?" 

"I haven't made up my mind yet." 

"All right, darling. Call when you arrive." 

He heard the click in his ears as she hung up, and slowly he replaced the 
phone on its cradle. He swivelled around on his desk to see Sally looking at 
him with large, wondering eyes. 

"Are you going someplace?" she asked. 

He nodded. "You, too. You'll just have time to hurry home and pack an 
overnight bag, Sally. I'll need you with me." 

She glanced at him dumbfounded and he explained. She could understand his 
need for the photos,- and she understood too how important it was for her 
own sake that Barton recover them before they should fall into the wrong 
hands. The idea of traveling to Vegas with him, while heady, was tempered by 
his assurance that it was a business trip. Businessmen were sometimes 
accompanied by their secretaries, she knew, and inasmuch nothing had 
happened so far to suggest anything different in their relationship, she 
could see no reason for refusing to go along. 

Except, of course, that one fervent kiss in her apartment; but she wondered 
if he even remembered it. Brian had certainly given her no indication that 
he did. ... She stood up. "Where shall I meet you?" 

He picked up the phone again. "Let me get a reservation for us on the early 
evening flight and then we can meet at the airport." He dialed and spoke 
curtly into the phone, scribbled on his pad, and hung up. "All set. Meet me 
in time for the eight o'clock flight to Vegas." 

As she went out, she said, "I've never been to Vegas before, Mr. Barton. Do 
you think we'll have time to do any gambling?" 

Barton smiled. "We'll be gambling every minute that we're there, Sally." 
Seeing her surprised look, he added,. "With our lives. I'm still not certain 
I can trust Emma. But it's important for us both that I try to reclaim those 
incriminating pictures they took of you." 

She nodded, silently. Yes, knowing Emma and how she hated him, it would be a 
gamble for them in many ways. 

Sally could hardly believe she would be in Las Vegas in only a few hours. 
Fun City. She had beard so much about it, yet never been there. It was a 
romantic spot too, and she wished she were going with Brian under different 
circumstances. Perhaps another time, she thought silently. 

She calculated carefully. the time she needed to go home and throw some 
things together while she transcribed her notes, and left her desk in order. 
Barton's door was closed and she didn't want to interrupt his thinking. She 
was on her own, she realized. 

On her way out, she stopped at the reception desk. 

"Good night, Gail. I'll see you Monday." 

Gail looked up at her, surprised. She glanced at her watch, shaking her 
head. "What's going on? You keeping banker's hours? It's not near quitting 
time, Sally." 

"I'm going up to Vegas with Mr. Barton." 

Gail's jaw dropped. "What?" 

Sally nodded. "It's a sudden business trip and he needs me along. I can't 
explain now but I will when I get back." 

Gail whistled. "Vegas over the weekend with the boss? Sally, what's 
happened?" 

"I told you, Gail. Business." 

Gail's lip curled. "I'll bet. Don't you mean monkey business ?" 

"Hardly that, Gail. Mr. Barton doesn't even know I'm alive. It's something 
to do with his ex-wife and getting back the pictures -- " She stopped 
suddenly aware of her breach. 

"Pictures?" Gail echoed frowning. Then she nodded. "I get it. What happened 
yesterday with that phony guy who broke in? Hocking, wasn't that the name he 
used? You never told me he took pictures, Sally. You mean he --?" 

Sally shook her head firmly. "Please don't ask me any more now, Gail: If the 
trip is successful, I'll be able to tell you all about it on my return. But 
a lot of strange things have been happening here lately. For example, did 
you know you had a replacement here while you were out? And that she tried 
to compromise Mr. Barton while taking my place as secretary?" 

"What? You putting me on?" 

"It's the truth. And when I get back, perhaps I'll have more to tell you 
about that, too." 

Gail put on a smile. "Okay, kid. Have a good time. Sure wish I was going 
along. Maybe when you get back you'll have forgotten all about -- us." 

Sally shook her head firmly. "No, Gail. Never. We'll talk about it later. I 
have to run now." She waved and. ran out the door, feeling very warm and 
trembling. There, was no mistaking the look of pure jealousy Gail stowed. 
I'll call her at home when we get there, Sally decided. Perhaps that will 
cheer her some. 

She drove home in record time, quickly showered and changed. When she left 
her apartment, she carried a small overnight bag. Inside was her sheerest 
shortie nightie. 

* * * 

She paced nervously along the tile floor of the airport terminal. The flight 
clerk called for ticket holders to board the Vegas flight and she watched 
the other passengers going to the window and then through the gate. Had 
Brian forgotten the time? Was he stalled in traffic? They were announcing 
the last warnings to board when she spied his tall, angular figure dashing 
through the doors, and waved. 

Seconds later they were through the doors and sitting side by side on the 
crowded plane. Barton grinned and patted her hand. "Don't scold, Sally. I 
was delayed because I tried to get you something for the trip that you might 
like." 

"Well, for goodness sakes -- what?" 

He handed it across to her, a trifle shamefaced. She ripped the colored 
ribbon off the box, pulled the tissue wrapping paper aside, and stared. 
Inside the box was a sheer shortie nightie! 

She looked up at Barton, tongue-tied. He shook his head, pointed to the 
glowing overhead lighted sign. Please Fasten Seatbelts. 

She watched the runway slide blurringly past and then the plane soared 
upward. She held the gift box from Brian on her lap, her mind whirling. What 
did it mean? 

Relax, she told herself, you'll find out soon enough when you get there. 

CHAPTER TEN 

Brian dozed fitfully on the brief flight across the desert. Sally glanced 
covertly at his profile as his head nodded in sleep. Her sympathy was 
tempered by the thought that he could have been so tired because of his 
sexual exploits with the blonde company spy Linda Dove. She had to remind 
herself that she was going along as a secretarial companion and nothing 
else. Apart from the gift Brian had brought her, he had ventured nothing of 
a personal nature. From any other man, there could have been no possible 
misinterpretation; it would've been a vulgar and cheap thing to do. But not 
from Brian. And although it was an intimate gift, still it was purchased for 
her with nothing but its strictest utility in Brian Barton's precise and 
mechanical mind. 

Sally sighed. Well, she wouldn't be the first girl to misinterpret kindness 
for romance. 

After they landed, s taxi took them from the airport and drew up at a large 
illuminated palatial setting that seemed like something out of the Arabian 
Nights. Giant palms loomed upward towering to the brilliant purple sky. 
Millions of stars twinkled over-head. Expensive cars parked by the elaborate 
entrance and expensively dressed people walked inside. They seemed to be 
happy and gaily aroused, many of them lovers. 

She followed Barton's long-legged stride to the front desk where he set down 
his attache case. Sally waited until he had conversed with the clerk, 
stepping politely out of earshot. She felt a firm pressure on her arm and 
glanced up. 

Barton grinned and waved keys. "Come on. We're in luck. They had adjoining 
rooms." 

As they stood side by side in the elevator, she asked, "Where are we?" 
Seeing his puzzled stare, she added, "What hotel, I mean? I didn't notice." 

Barton grinned. "The Taj Palace. One of the city's newest Arabian style 
hotels. Omar the tentmaker would have, passed it by." 

"Perhaps. I like it anyway. This is my first trip to Vegas, you know." 

Barton glanced at his watch. "Maybe I can. show you a good time before it's 
over, Sally. This business with Emma shouldn't take very long. I've already 
made arrangements at the desk for a notary to be on call when we see her. 
I'll just need you along to take notes for her affidavit and for whatever 
else comes up." 

She nodded, followed him into the adjoining rooms. She whirled around 
excitedly. "It's beautiful! So elegant!" 

Barton shrugged. "They're all pretty mach the same. They have to keep up 
with the competition. Now I'll let you have fifteen minutes to freshen up 
while I arrange to meet Emma, and then we'll run over to Emma's hotel. After 
that, we'll have dinner." 

Dancing would be better, she thought, brushing her hair. 

Barton nodded approvingly when she was ready. "You get better looking all 
the time," he said. 

Moments later they were in another cab hurtling across the dark night. Sign 
after sign proclaimed the attractions at the various Las Vegas clubs. She 
hadn't realized there were that many. The last one was the largest, most 
garish. Intricate lighting spelled it out overhead: Sand Dunes. 

Barton headed for the house phone. She waited until he got through, watched 
him speak quickly, and hang up. He turned and found her arm, propelling her 
along. "She's got the Penthouse Suite. Hatch. Come on." 

He knocked on the door and almost instantly it opened. The woman who stood 
in the doorway was wearing a low-cut dress that contained no secrets. Her 
breasts were pushed together and thrust out, barely short of revealing the 
nipples. She moved gracefully, showing a slit skirt halfway up one leg. 

"Brian! How nice! And this lovely little thing is --" 

"Sally Parker, my secretary," Barton said. "Sally, this is Emma Barton." 

"How do you do," Sally said politely. 

"I do as well as I can," Emma said softly, sarcastically. 

The room was large, with windows on two sides and doors leading to other 
rooms at the far end. It was furnished with a dazzling array of sleek and 
ex-pensive chairs, sofas, and wall hangings. 

Emma led them to a bar midway across. "Let me fix you a drink, first. You do 
drink, don't you, Brian?" 

Barton shrugged. "I'll have one for the occasion." 

"We're out of ' milk. Will you have Scotch or a martini?" 

"Martini's fine, Emma. How about you, Sally?" 

"I'll have the same." 

"Wonderful." She poured from the iced pitcher into chilled glasses, handed 
them to" Brian and Sally, then poured another for herself. She raised her 
glass. "Cheers." 

"Cheers," Barton said, downing his drink at one gulp. "Now if we can get 
down to business, Emma. First, the pictures, if you don't mind. We'll finish 
our drinks while we wait for the notary to get here. And then Miss Parker 
will take whatever statement you care to give me regarding your accident in 
the Pithon." He looked her over critically and shook his head. "Your luck 
still holds good. I can't see a scratch, Emma." 

She smiled, her dark eyes veiled. "Not all bruises are always visible, 
Brian. As a good lawyer, you ought to know that" 

He nodded. "True." 

Emma pressed a switch on a small desk intercom. "We're ready," she said. 
"Mr. Barton would like the pictures first." 

Sally noticed Brian quickly shift his feet and look around the room. A door 
opened and three men walked out. They wore dark business suits and bulked 
largely in them. 

Barton looked at them and shook his head. "You must have pressed the wrong 
button, Emma. I don't see any pictures." 

"Oh? They're coming now. That door behind you." 

Sally didn't know the first man entering. But she recognized the grinning 
blond man holding the gun. 

Too late, Sally heard Barton's warning as he hurled himself at Andrew 
Hocking. His hands had Hocking by the throat and then she saw the blurring 
motion of the upraised arm and the awful sound of the crunching gun that 
battered Barton's head. Barton sagged and the other man stepped in quickly 
and drove a hard blow into his stomach and the redhead, went down. 

Sally screamed. "My God, he trusted you! What, are you doing?" 

Emma Barton smiled. "Stick around and you'll find out, sweetie. I couldn't 
believe Brian would be stupid. enough to come here unprotected. Did he 
really think I would hand over those pictures? My God, doesn't, he know my 
one dream is to ruin him -- in every possible way?" 

"He trusted you," Sally repeated dry-mouthed. She' ran across the room to go 
to Brian's aid but at one imperative gesture from Emma Barton, one of the 
plug-uglies grabbed her. 

"Hold it, cunt," he said. 

She struggled to 'get free, flailing at him. He grinned and held her hands 
behind her, pressing them against the center of his body. His free hand 
swept around her and she felt him at her breasts, squeezing them, fondling 
them. 

"Hey, am I paying you to enjoy yourself?" Emma said. 

He shrugged. "This one Ill do for free. What a pair of tits l" 

Emma shrugged. She turned to Sally. "You see how it is with the help these 
days?" Brian groaned and struggled to sit up. Hocking stood over him 
waiting. Suddenly he drew his foot back. It lashed forward catching Barton 
on the side of the jaw. He grunted and fell back again. "That's one I owe 
you," Hocking said. 

Sally screamed. "Stop that!" She struggled wildly to get free, but the man 
holding her was too strong. She bit her lip as his hand lasciviously 
caressed her. 

"Easy, baby," he said softly. "Take it easy. You'll burn out the engine." 

Brian grunted and sat up again. His forehead dripped with blood flowing from 
his scalp wound. An ugly welt was turning purple the full length of his jaw. 
His eyes focussed, finding his ex-wife. "I should have known better," he 
said hoarsely. "Once a bitch, always a bitch!" 

Emma leaned over him solicitously. "What are you saying, Brain Boy? You came 
here for pictures, didn't you? Well, I'm going to keep my word. We're going 
to have pictures, all right. Lots of pictures." She gestured to one of the 
men. "All right, Louie. Let's get started." 

The man dipped into his pocket and came out with a camera. "I'm ready. How 
do you want them?" 

Emma smiled viciously. "Start with the girl. Maybe she's wearing too many 
clothes." 

"You're insane! That notary will be here any second!" Brian said. 

Emma smiled sardonically. "I told him not to bother." 

As the men came at Sally and started to strip her, Brian roared and came to 
his feet again. Hocking and the second man both hit him then and again he 
crumpled to the floor, blood streaming from his mouth. 

When he opened his eyes, Sally saw the fire blazing helplessly in them. 
"It's all right," she said. "It doesn't matter what they do. I'm not worth 
getting yourself killed over." 

Brian shook his head. He struggled to his feet again. Emma made another 
quick signal with her head and the men closed in on him, drawing his hands 
behind his back. 

Sally had time to breathe a sigh of relief that they hadn't hurt him again, 
when she felt strange hands around her. One man held her tightly, while 
another ripped at her dress. In a moment, she was in her bra and panties. 

"Hold it there," Emma said. "Let's get some of that." 

The man aimed his camera and then she signalled to the dark-haired stocky 
man who had been free with her breasts. 

"I'm always ready," he said hoarsely. "You know that" 

"Okay, Frankie. Get her started. But give us time to get the pictures. And 
don't forget, we want my ex-hubby to get a good look at what's happening." 

"Sure thing." 

Sally looked blankly from one to the other, wondering what they intended 
doing. She gasped as Frankie hit her deep in the pit of her stomach. As she 
crumpled to the floor, she saw his hands fumbling with his, zipper, and then 
she saw his thick cock hanging out; an immense, dark, solid, batlike object. 

The dark-haired man grinned at Hocking. "You had your kicks at the office: 
It's my turn now, pal." 

Reaching down, he grabbed Sally's hair in one hand, and thrust himself 
forward. "Okay, cunt," he said growling. "Start eating my cock. And do a 
good job so your boss will find out what he's been missing." 

She gagged as the hard thrust of it was crammed deeply into her mouth. She 
heard Brian yell and then rolling her eyes, saw him being pulled back as he 
lunged from the chair. 

Better this way, she thought. Get it over with and perhaps they will spare 
him. 

She began to suck, making herself sigh with contentment. Sally had a plan 
and quickly went to work on the tough man's cock. She gave him fast head, 
sliding her mouth up and down on his engorged cock, compressing her cheeks 
and using the tip of her tongue. 

He began to shiver and tremble and she took his cock in her hand and played 
with his balls. Then she sucked fiercely, driving fast up and down and 
pressing on his cock and balls. He came much sooner than he expected or 
wanted to, and she took him deep inside her throat, letting his load come, 
draining him dry. When she finished, she looked up at him smiling. "Want 
another?" she asked. "Or is one your limit?" 

He stared down at her shocked and surprised. "Sure, I'll take seconds," he 
said. "Only take it easy, will ya? I came before I was ready. Do it slow." 

Emma stepped forward. "Hold it, Frankie. I got a much better idea for your 
cock." 

He looked angrily at her. "Oh, yeah? Like what?" 

She gestured toward Barton. "I think my ex-hubby would like to suck you off. 
Wouldn't you, Brian darling?" 

Barton curled his lip and spat blood on her carpet. "Try it," he said. "I'll 
bite it off." 

Emma shook her head. "That's not being very co-operative, you know. Maybe 
this will help make you more adaptable." 

She moved swiftly to the desk, and stepped away. Before Sally could move, 
Emma had her tightly by the hair with one hand. The other held a thin 
sharp-pointed stiletto at her throat. "If you don't suck Frankie off, Brian 
baby, then I'll just have to carve some initials in this pretty little 
face." 

Sally winced, her eyes rolling at the knife. She was terrified now at the 
threat. But as frightened as she was, she could not but wonder how Brian 
would take the upcoming indignity. 

Emma snapped her fingers. "Okay, Frankie, get going. Can't you see that he's 
waiting?" 

The dark-haired lout edged closer apprehensively. "Hey, wait," he pleaded. 
"You sure he wants it? What if he bites it off, like he says?" 

Emma laughed. "So what? Then I'll cut his lady friend's throat. He wouldn't 
like that." 

Barton leaned forward, his eyes blazing, ignoring the hoods. "Emma, you'd 
better listen before you do any more damage. I left word at my office that I 
was meeting with you up here. You'll have to kill me to get me to do what 
you have in mind. That's a murder rap for you. And as for your five hoods 
here, they'll get ten to twenty years for collusion with you and compounding 
a felony. I'll testify personally as to the criminal nature of the assault 
on my secretary Miss Parker, and I guarantee that if you don't call off your 
dogs and let us out of here, I'll see you all in jail." 

The stocky hood called Frankie looked at Emma worried. "Hey, what's he 
saying? He talks like a lawyer." 

Emma scoffed. "He. used to be a lawyer. Now he's going to be a pretty dead 
mouthpiece. Don't let him scare you, Frankie. Shove that big cock of yours 
in Mr. Barton's mouth. I want pictures to show what a cocksucker he really 
is." 

Frankie shook his head stubbornly. "No, thanks. For one thing, that guy 
looks like he'll bite it off like he said. And for the other, if he's a 
mouthpiece also like he said, I ain't goin' for no ten to twenty rap. If. 
it's all the same to you, Mrs. B -- include me out." 

Emma motioned to the blond man Hocking. "Give me your gun." 

Hocking strode closer and handed her his automatic. 

Emma sighed. "Sorry about this, Frankie. You ought to know I give the orders 
around here." 

She steadied the gun with both hands, aimed quickly and pulled the trigger. 
Frankie screamed and staggered back. 

"You cunt -- you lousy, rotten cunt -- you shot off my cock!" He groaned, 
agonized. 

Sally stared. Frankie was holding a bloody stump in his hands. Blood gushed 
from the wound through his trembling fingers. 

Emma spoke to the others. "Take him inside. Put him in the tub. If he bleeds 
to death, we'll drop him off out of town." 

The two hoods took hold of the white-faced man and dragged him through the 
door in the rear. Sally heard him scream once more. Then she heard a muffled 
thud and the sound of running water. 

Emma swung the gun around and leveled it at Barton. "You're next," she said. 
"That cock of yours never did me any particular good. We might as well get 
rid of it like Frankie's " 

To Sally's surprise, Barton smiled' through his bloody features. "You got 
off a lucky shot then, Emma. The odds are fifty-to-one against your 
repeating it. If you miss, I get the bullet in the belly and if I'm dead, so 
are you. Go ahead, pull the trigger:. I'm willing to bet my life you'll lose 
yours." 

Emma shook her head violently and held the gun out, bracing it with both 
hands as she leveled it below Barton's belt. Her hand wavered. 

Sally wanted to scream, watching the battle for. supremacy. Then to her 
amazement, Emma slowly lowered her hand. The gun swung limply at her side. 
Her face was deathly pale. 

"All right, you sonofabitch," she said hoarsely. "But I don't have to kill 
you to get what I want. All I need are enough pictures. Get on your hands 
and knees, Brian. I'm going to let Hocking shove his cock up your ass and 
Ralph will snap the shutter. If you don't do as I say, I guarantee we'll 
fill you full of booze and when you're out, I'll let all my boys take turns 
fucking the life out of your pretty little secretary." 

Barton stared as she took a quick step and leveled the gun against Sally's 
head. "Maybe this will be quicker," she said. "You can have it any way you 
want it. Miss Parker dead or fucked four ways to midnight." 

Barton shook his head. "Untie my hands," he growled. "I'll let you do what 
you want with me. Leave Miss Parker alone." 

Hocking and Ralph stepped forward and released Barton. He rubbed his numb 
wrists. Then he threw off his coat and loosened his belt. He led it fall 
below his knees and then fell forward nodding to Hocking. "Come on, Hocking. 
Get it over with." 

Hocking licked his lips. To Sally's surprise, he seemed delighted at the 
opportunity. He took his cock out of his pants. It jutted out at a 
formidable angle. 

Sally closed her eyes as the sound of heavy breathing began and became 
louder. Her heart pounded in her throat. Once she thought she heard Brian 
cry out, but she wasn't sure and kept her eyes resolutely closed, feeling 
cold waves of fear running down her back. It seemed hours before she heard 
Emma's voice. 

"Very good, Hocking. Did you get all that on film, Ralphie?" 

"Yeah." 

Sally opened her eyes. Tears flooded them instantly as she saw Brian lying 
on the floor, his head cradled in his arms. Hocking was just getting up from 
his position, and she saw his huge white cock had lost its earlier erection 
and now hung slack and limply between his legs. 

"That was good, Brian," Emma said. "You took it in the ass like a veteran. I 
really think you enjoyed yourself that time. What do you think, Hocking? Did 
he get his rocks off?" 

Hocking shrugged, putting his sore cock away. "I don't know. I got mine off. 
I can tell you that. The guy's got a real tight ass." 

Emma smiled. "Really? I think I know how to handle that." She turned to 
survey the room. "Oh, yes, that big candle ought to do the trick." 

Sally stared wonderingly as Emma walked quickly across the room. She 
returned with a large candle, about a foot long and as wide as her fist. She 
blew out the flame smiling. 

She stood close to Barton and showed him the candle. "I hope you still feel 
like playing the hero," she said with an evil smile. "My next idea is to 
light this candle and I have two choices of where to stick the other end. 
Either up your ass, darling, or Miss Parker's. Which would you prefer?" 

Barton stared up at her, his face gray, stained with the streaks of dried 
blood. His head rolled on his neck and his muscles ridged like cords. "Do 
your worst, Emma. You can't kill me and I won't let you touch Miss Parker 
again. If you do, I swear I'll break your neck personally with my own two 
hands." 

Emma nodded coolly. "That's just fine, sweetie. Now bend over like a good 
little boy so Mama can shove this great big candle up your nice tight little 
ass." 

Again Sally shook her head, her voice strangled in her throat at this new 
bizarre cruelty. She knew she would rather die than submit to this kind of 
humiliation and pain, and yet Barton was volunteering his own body for it to 
protect her. She stared as Emma drove the candle in, then pounded it in 
deeper with her shoe heel. Then smiling, she leaned over and stroked her 
cigarette lighter. The flame licked at the candle wick and caught. 

Sally watched it burn a second longer, then her legs became very cold and 
her body seemed suddenly awfully heavy, and she blinked. The room spun and 
everybody in it turned over and she moaned as she fell to the carpet in a 
dead faint. 

As the floor came up to meet her, she heard one of the men say, "Look out! 
The cunt is fainting!" 

Then she was falling through a deep dark tunnel with the wind rustling in 
her hair. The wind became hotter and lights flashed inside her head. Her 
skin 'was crawling and then she remembered she was afraid of snakes and she 
opened her eyes. 

The room was dark. 

She heard heavy breathing across the room. She made herself crawl in that 
direction. When she drew close, she saw it was the huddled form of a man. 

"Brian?" she whispered. 

There was no answer. 

She wept. "Oh, Brian, my darling. What have they done to you?" 

CHAPTER ELEVEN 

She couldn't remember afterward how she found the necessary strength to lift 
him to his feet. Somehow she got him up and his clothing adjusted. She could 
smell the burnt flesh and it gagged her. She propped him against the door. 
"Just a moment more, darling. I have to get my own clothes on." 

Barton came to life as she was staggering down the hall with him. She rang 
for the service elevator. It came up on the automatic button and she sighed 
with relief. She couldn't face any questioning elevator operator now. 

From the ground level, she managed to walk him around the side entrance. She 
left him for a moment and found a cab. The driver stared as he watched her 
literally carry the tall limp man's weight on her slight frame. 

He shook his head. "Lady, I guess next time you'll know better than to go 
out with no drunks." 

She flared and was about to fire back at him, when she realized Barton was 
drenched with alcohol. Perhaps they had hoped he would burn to death in the 
room. She refrained from answering, got Barton into the cab, and directed 
the driver to the Taj. As he steered the taxi across the parking lot and 
into the street, she saw Barton shaking his head. He opened his eyes and she 
saw they had no focus. His breath reeked of Scotch. 

Then she remembered Emma's threat. When she had fainted, Emma had, probably 
with the aid of her hirelings, forced heavy amounts of Scotch down Barton's 
throat to prevent him from following them when they left. It would have been 
impossible for him in that condition to have approached any peace officer 
with a complaint. They would have laughed him off as another drunk, perhaps 
thrown him in the tank. 

At the hotel, she. paid the driver off. Barton was semi-conscious now and 
was able to walk with only alight assistance from her. He raised his arm 
drunkenly. "Side entrance over there." 

Again, she found the service elevator and leaned Barton against the padded 
wall while she dug into his pockets for the room key. She found it and waved 
it triumphantly in front of his drawn, blood-caked face. "We'll be all 
right, don't you worry," she said. "We can both be glad that you're still 
alive and in one piece." 

His head nodded and sagged. His eyes rolled out of control, and then by some 
powerful effort of will, they found her. His voice was husky, diffused with 
the booze, but she heard him. "You okay, Sally? You all right?" 

She nodded vigorously, pressing his arm. "Yes, darling. And you'll be fine, 
too. When we get in our room, I'll be able to take care of you." 

He nodded drunkenly. "Afraid they were going to fuck the hell out of you." 

"Well, they didn't. She was more anxious to hurt you than me. What a 
terrible woman!" 

He smiled crookedly. "Yeah. Good of Emma. Worth ten million on the hoof. Not 
worth a nickel, same time. Funny." 

The elevator stopped at their floor and she craned her head outside. The 
corridor was clear and she pulled Barton out quickly. It was only a few 
steps to their door and she unlocked it and lugged him inside. 

Brian staggered, lost his balance and fell. She stifled a scream and went to 
her knees beside him. "Are you all right?" 

He nodded. His arms reached out for her and gratefully she moved closer 
toward him. Their lips met for the first time, and although the stench of 
the Scotch was overpowering, she felt the warmth and heat of his mouth. 
"Come on," she murmured. "Let me get you into the shower and get all that 
blood off you. Then I can look at your wounds." 

"Okay. Okay:" He was smiling as goofily as a confirmed drunk. 

She pulled his shoes off and tossed them aside. She hesitated for a moment 
as she was about to loosen his belt, then she grinned. There wasn't anything 
he could do about it, she thought, and pulled his pants down and off. 

Barton let himself be led into the stall shower. Sally decided it would be 
safer if she joined him, as he still was terribly weak and showing the 
effects of severe shock. She stripped and went in after him. 

Barton sagged as the water hit him and she caught him in her arms and 
steadied him. "Relax," she said. "I'll soap you down. Just hold still and 
let me and the water do the work." 

He nodded obediently, still wearing the goofy smile she associated with 
drunks. She soaped him thoroughly along his back and stroked his heavy 
muscles with her hands. As her hands reached hip level, she realized she was 
breathing heavily. "Does this hurt?" she asked. 

She held the washrag just slightly above the area where his skin had been 
scorched by the candle. Barton shook his head and she gently swabbed the 
area between his buttocks with the cloth. Then Barton surprised her by 
raising his arms and turning around to face her. Before she knew what she 
was doing, she was holding his penis in one hand and soaping it with the 
other. She felt it grow big and thick and hard in her hand. "Um-m," he 
murmured. "That's nice." 

Sally smiled, remembering what he had gone through for her. The taste of the 
black-haired man's cock was still in her mouth. She knew how to purge that 
ugly taste now. 

Stooping, Sally began to kiss and lick his cock and balls. "I had to do this 
for the other man tonight," she said softly. "The only way I could manage it 
was to make believe it was your cock I was doing it to." 

Her lips shifted expertly from the head of his cock to one of his balls. She 
went from one to the other, noting the plumpness of his testicles and the 
rigid large shaft of his erection. Barton leaned closer to her and somehow 
his hands found her breasts. 

Sally sighed. "When Frankie grabbed me there, I had to pretend it was you 
all the time, Brian. Please do all the things he did to me. Squeeze them, 
darling. Twist them. Run your fingers around my nipples. I love it." 

Barton nodded and began to manipulate her breasts until she began to feel 
the first signs of the stirrings inside her loins. She mouthed contentedly 
on his organ, sucking him deep into her throat with tight lips, then 
relaxing to slide along his slippery shaft She sucked him thoroughly from 
his hilt all the way to his head. Her tongue flicked at his urethral meatus 
and then licked the big circle of his coronal ridge. 

Barton began to pant now and his hands were rough on her breasts. She moved 
more quickly now, tugging at his cock in violent moves as if she were trying 
to tear it out by its roots. She felt his left ball rise and knew he was 
about to come. She gripped tighter with her lips and felt him shudder and 
then tasted the hot jet juices of his cock. 

She sucked him clean and then let the water do the rest. Barton was 
breathing heavily as she turned off the shower and led him out. "Hold 
still," she said. "I'll try not to hurt you with the towel." 

Again he submitted, allowing her to dab and pat the water from his body 
until he was dry. She turned him all around as if he were a mannikin. His 
burned flesh troubled her but although she knew once they returned to Um 
Angeles, he would be able to have a doctor take care of it, she wondered if 
she should get the hotel doctor. 

Barton opened his eyes. His hand reached up under her chin. "I'm all right 
now, Sally. I can't pretend any more. I think I came to while you were ; 
doing that wonderful job on me." 

She flushed. "It's the least I can do for you after all you've been 
through." 

Barton shook his head. "You don't owe me anything, Sally. It's my fault for 
taking you up there and putting you at the mercy of those animals. If 
there's any making up to do, I'm the one under the obligation." 

She opened her mouth to protest and he closed it with his lips. She felt his 
naked body close to hers as his strong arms pulled her tight. She felt his 
hard core against her maidenhood, sensing it was becoming firm and hard 
again. Her hand dropped and she caressed it gently. 

Barton smiled and carried her backward to the bed. He stretched her out and 
put his head down between her legs. Then he began to lick her sweet-tasting 
slit, lapping up her gathering juices. His mouth shifted all around, his 
lips finding her major and minor labia, the pink outer edges of her love 
nest Then he moved to her vaginal orifice and his tongue sent weird rising 
sensations through her quivering body. 

Sally sighed, loving the detail with which Brian loved her. He nibbled. at 
every available inch of her delectable flesh, tasting her sweetness. She 
caressed his thick red hair, and began moving her hips gently from side to 
side, drenching his face with her moistening cleft. "Oh, darling, you're so 
good to me," she murmured. "Eat me some more and make me come. Then we'll 
try it another way." 

Brian nodded, anxious to please this girl, eager to introduce her to her 
first orgasm with him. The drops of her love juice clung to his tongue as he 
stiffened it and probed deeply into her love box. 

Sally squirmed, breathing faster. Her thighs pressed hot and tightly against 
his face, imprisoning him there between her rounded columns of superb young 
flesh. His hands grabbed at her breasts, twisting them and then' he shifted 
to her plump rounded buttocks, squeezing them and thrusting them up. His 
tongue moved snakelike with increasing speed and then she shuddered as an 
orgasm of incredible power swept over her like a giant tidal wave. 

Salty wept joyfully, holding him tightly to her . body as she quivered and 
shook through the convulsive spasms of her orgasm. She held his mouth tight 
against her slit as it throbbed, letting him get his full taste of her 
nectars and drenching passion. Her loins trembled as his head burrowed 
again, lapping at her organ with insatiable desire. 

"Oh, Brian, darling," she whispered. Her head spun and she experienced 
incredible new delights. His hands went back again to her beautiful globular 
breasts, touching so gently at the roseate pink areolas, then centering on 
the alert cherry-red nipples. He flicked at them with his long strong 
fingers, hurting them, and she felt his long hard cock pressing tightly 
against her. 

Her soft rounded belly fluttered as he sucked deeply and ravenously at her 
slit again, and she came in another spasmodic orgasm that shook her to the 
core. She panted hotly and then moved her thighs apart. She reached between 
his legs and found his manhood and pulled it gently upward. "I'm ready for 
the real thing now, darling," she, sighed. 

Brian rolled over and she straddled his hips. She took his cock in her hand, 
loving the hugeness and hardness of it and gently eased herself onto it. 
Then she let herself ride down the hilt slowly. It was like a dream come 
true. He filled her to. the core and she felt his pubic hair rough on her 
skin as she scraped her bottom on his hilt. 

Sally moved up and down and began to moan. "Oh, gee, that, feels nice. Oh, 
Brian, that is wonderful. Easy, my darling, I, don't want to come again too 
soon. I've wanted you inside me for such a long time." 

He began to breathe faster, thrusting himself up with his hips high. His 
hands fondled her breasts and then his mouth found them and chewed at them. 
Sally gasped. She had never experienced such passionate bliss. 

Then he could feel his juices boiling close to eruption and he began to 
dominate the mood, thrusting harder and harder, groaning with each 
hedonistic move, delighting in her groans and panting breath. Her thighs 
were wet and slippery now and he sensed she was as close to orgasm as he 
was. 

"There!" he panted, thrusting his cock to the hilt inside her and he 
exploded inside with gushing gobs of jetlike semen that flooded her core. 

"Oh, oh!" she gasped. "Hold me tight, I'm coming!" 

The wave cascaded over her, shattering her with its force and she collapsed 
against him. Brian felt her limp in his arms and collapsed at her side, 
their loins touching and pulsing wildly. They began kissing again and his 
hands played with her breasts and she found his manhood and gently stroked 
it. Brian let his hands roam all around her body exploring each crevice. His 
fingers touched at her anal orifice and she sighed with rapture. Gently, he 
turned her over and stroked her soft plump buttocks and then leaned to kiss 
them. 

She let him explore her surfaces and then raised so he could move into her 
from the rear. Brian found her vagina and she let it stay there for a while, 
moving gently in and out. But she wanted him now in her anal orifice and she 
plucked his organ out and indicated where she wanted it. 

"It might hurt you, darling," he said. "I'd love to do it to you there but 
we don't have to." 

Sally shook her head. "No. We must. Remember what they did to you at that 
hotel. Nothing you can do to me could be anything but beautiful. Please, 
Brian, do it." 

He shrugged his wide shoulders and slipped it into her backside gently. 
Sally had forgotten how big Brian's penis was, and now as it crept into her 
backside inch by inch, she felt it was choking her. But there was something 
oddly comforting about it despite the pain. 

She encouraged him to play with her clit while he was over and behind her 
and then to hold her breasts tightly. This indeed was heavenly for her now 
and she began to move her hips, feeling his big cock go in and out, 
caressing her most tender surfaces, inflaming them with mad, insensate 
desire. "Oh, I like this," she murmured, swinging her hips to the side and 
then directly back. 

Brian grunted. "Me, too, love. Just tell me if it's too much for you to 
stand. Otherwise I'm going to ram it right up to the hilt." 

The big prong inside her backside was growing bigger and thicker each second 
and she sensed his rising passion. "Go ahead, lover," she panted. "Ram it 
all the way. I know I'll love every blessed inch of t." 

Brian swayed back then and began to batter at her from the rear. Indeed, he 
hadn't exaggerated and his huge thick staff was like a battering ram 
assaulting her most private gate now. He went faster and faster, plunging in 
deeper each time, his huge rock-like balls slapping against her buttocks. 

Sally couldn't contain herself any longer against her sweeping orgasm. She 
cried out and braced herself for his next fierce lunge and then, grasping 
her lovely breasts in each hand, he gave one more forceful lunge and spewed 
his load inside her darkest valley. 

They collapsed again and lay side by side getting their breath back, waiting 
for their tumultuous hearts to slow. It was easy and wonderful making love 
this way with him, Sally thought. It seemed the most natural thing in the 
entire world. 

A sudden thought of Gail invaded her mind and she bit her lip. Gail with her 
mechanical dildo was pathetic. It serviced women, she had to admit, but 
there was nothing ever that could take the place of a real man's engorged 
and pulsing cock. And apart from that, there was the added thrilling 
sensation of feeling him come inside, those jetlike juices. 

And from Gail, her mind wandered to Brian's incredible endurance after the 
horrors of that evening. His performance almost defied belief ! She thought 
the awful and sadistic beating Brian had taken would have weakened him, as 
it would almost any man. But instead, it seemed to have triggered some 
secret hunger inside him, chiselling away the thin veneer that covered his 
lust. He seemed insatiable, hungry for her with his mouth, his hands, and 
his huge distended organ. 

Caught in his driving spell, Sally began again the initial rites. She kissed 
his staff gently and then let her lips and tongue .explore its length. She 
nibbled at his huge balls and took them in her mouth, warming them with her 
breath. She rubbed his staff on her breasts, against her clit, and then 
played on it with her fingers. Finally, aroused again, she began to suck 
greedily at him, pulling his cock to its utmost length and then taking it 
deep in her throat. 

When Brian came, it was with the same gushing force, and the same tremors 
rocked his sturdy frame. 

She 'held him tightly until his shuddering sub-sided. "Was that a good one?" 
she asked shyly. 

He blew out his cheeks, "Nearly took my head off with that one. My turn 
now." He flipped her over and now his feet were near her head while his head 
burrowed between her soft thighs again. She had heard of this position, but 
never experienced it. It seemed so right for them. This way they could each 
kiss and nibble at each other's private parts. 

Her thoughts strayed inanely. He had still said nothing about their return. 
"Are we going back tomorrow?" 

He grunted an inaudible reply, kissing her slit. 

"Really, Brian. Are we staying for the weekend?" 

He lifted his head. "Why do you ask?" 

"I don't know. Perhaps we shouldn't waste it all now." 

"No waste," he said. "More where this came from." 

She gasped. His organ had hardened again. "Is that you?" 

He laughed. "Who else?" 

"Seriously," she began. 

He toyed with her breasts. "Anything else bothering you?" 

"Well, I am sort of hungry." 

He sat up and struck his head. "What a brute! I forgot all about taking you 
to dinner." 

"Well," she laughed, "under the circumstances, I wouldn't have expected you 
to remember. Considering what you'd been through, darling, it's quite all 
right." 

"All right, nothing. Where's the phone? I'll call room service. We'll have 
us a couple of thick, juicy steaks and some salad and wine, and a pot of 
coffee sounds good, too." 

Sally clapped her hands. 'While you're doing that, I'll take another shower. 
Wash some of this loving off." 

She left with Brian picking up the phone and took her time bathing in the 
hotel shower. She dried her body with soft towels and when she stepped back 
into the room, the waiter was just bowing out the door. Her mouth watered at 
the sight and scent of the food on the table. Unexpectedly, Brian barred her 
way. She looked up at him, surprised. He leaned down, mouth grimly set. 
"Sure you don't want to turn another trick before you eat?" 

Sally laughed. "Sure I'm sure. Let me eat the food and then I'll have 
strength to eat you again." He bowed, offering her a chair. 

They ate greedily, washed it down with the wine, then hot coffee. 

Sally put her napkin down. She looked down at her plate sadly. "It's all 
gone. All that wonderful food." 

Brian nodded. "That's the trouble with that stuff. It never does seem to 
last. Whereas -- " 

He pulled his robe open to show her what he wanted her to see. Sally stared 
open-mouthed. "I don't believe it! How do you do it?" 

Brian grinned. "Been hoarding. Come on, gal. Let's use it before it 
disappears." 

"Fine chance." she said. "That is the original Leaning Tower of Pisa." 

'Well, hurry up before it leans too far and falls down." 

Seconds later, they were breathing fast, moving slowly, tasting each other's 
flesh. It was the same and yet different. Sally's body had new and 
indescribable delights for him and Brian made no bones about how he enjoyed 
touching and tasting each one. She was the perfect woman, he thought. Loyal, 
helpful, and she loved to fuck. 

He found her clitoris as sensitive as a trigger and his hungry lips and 
tongue moved over her expertly. In moments, she shuddered, shaken again by a 
massive, powerful orgasm. She pressed his face close as if trying to 
encompass his entire being into her flaming vagina. When it was over, she 
sighed, stretching langorously. "I'm afraid you're turning me into a raving 
nymphomaniac, darling." 

Brian nodded. "Fine. That entitles you to a raise." 

Sally stared. 

CHAPTER TWELVE 

They slept late. When she opened her eyes, it was to the exquisite sensation 
of Brian fingering her vagina, going gently over her parts. She sighed and 
rolled toward him. "This is the way I like to wake up," she murmured. 

"Me, too." 

She felt his rocklike organ questing for her slit and reached for it. She 
rolled it gently in her hand, loving its smooth hard surface. She rubbed it 
against the insides of her thighs, then touched it to her slit. She felt her 
loins beginning to prepare for her first orgasm of the day. 

He mounted her then, sending his big shaft deeper and deeper inside her with 
each new thrust. Her hips moved provocatively. His mouth found her breasts 
and he pushed the meaty soft surface with his cheeks and nose, and then took 
her nipples in his mouth. He sucked on each one until she quivered and 
trembled. The great wave crested inside her loins and seemed to drown her 
with her orgasm. She cried out and Brian closed her mouth with his as he 
spurted his load inside her. 

They stayed in bed most of the morning, then showered and got dressed. Sally 
looked down at the unopened box she had brought along. "Oh, Brian! I forgot 
to wear the new short nightie you bought me!" 

He grinned. "Don't fret. You can wear it tonight But I doubt that you'll 
need anything like that to excite me." 

She shook her head, smiling. Everything suddenly was too perfect. The 
incidents of the night before however still hovered over her head like some 
dark, ugly cloud. "Are we staying over again tonight?" she asked. 

He shrugged. "Depends." 

When he didn't elaborate, she sensed with a quick divining intuition what 
was going through his mind. He hadn't forgotten last night nor forgiven 
Emma. There was the angry set to his jaw and a certain tenseness about his 
body and she knew why. 

He wanted vengeance. 

To hurt, to maim, to get even with his ex-wife for the humiliation and 
torture. For what Emma had done to him as well as Sally. He had a temper, 
she knew, and remembering how he bad stood firm last night against all 
threats, she sensed that now he would stop at nothing short of killing to 
even the score. He seemed to have forgotten that he was a lawyer. The due 
process of the law was behind him now. 

"Here," Brian said. "Take this." 

She stared at the crisp twenty-dollar bill in his hand. "What's that for?" 

"This is Vegas, remember? Your very first time, you said. Right?" 

"Downstairs in the lobby, you'll find a hundred slot machines. The one-armed 
bandits. that are legalized here to steal your money. But sometimes a person 
can win. You might even hit a jackpot. That's what tricks them all, you 
know. Everybody wants to hit the jackpot" 

She took the twenty. "I don't need any more luck than what I've already had, 
Brian. But if you want me to -- " 

He nodded. "It will occupy you for a few hours. I've some things to do." 

She looked up alarmed. "You're not -- going back?" 

Brian pressed his finger against her lips. "Don't fret. I promise that I'll 
return in one piece. And I expect to have intact the particular piece we 
used to such advantage since we came back here last night" 

"But those people are dangerous, Brian. Surely you don't need to go back -- 
" 

"Don't worry about it," he said. "It won't take long." 

He kissed her and strode to the door. When she saw he was adamant, she 
nodded. "All right, dear. I'll try not to worry. If you'll try to be 
careful." 

"I'll try." 

He went out the door quickly and she was left alone with her fears. There 
were too many of them for Brian to handle by himself, she knew. He would 
have to be awfully lucky to get back at them and escape unscathed. She 
stared down at, the crisp bill in her hand. It will give me something to do, 
she thought. If I stay up here alone and simply wait, I'll go out of my 
mind. 

She knew Barton would never forgive her if she tried to stop him from any 
course of action he felt compelled to carry through. That was the secret of 
his success, the ingredient that had made him the exceptional person he was. 

A will of iron. And intelligence to match and to guide him along. An 
indomitable spirit. Unflinching courage. 

Yes, she thought bitterly. Yet he had all those attributes the night before 
and had wound up lying in a heap, raped and buggered, battered and bloody, 
soaked with booze, unconscious and helpless, with the melted remains of a 
big fat candle that had been thrust up his ass and lit. 

Come back safely, Brian, she prayed, her eyes closed. 

She put the twenty into her purse, brushed her hair and attended to her 
makeup. Then she walked out of the room and took the elevator downstairs to 
try her luck. 

* * * 

Barton strode through the lobby. When he went out the revolving door, he 
patted his breast pocket lightly. The little Astra twenty-two automatic was 
there now, and he shook his head regretting that he had not taken it along 
the night before. The little Spanish gun had proved invaluable in the past. 
He had been stupid to have trusted Emma. Hell, he had wanted to trust her. 
But she had moved the way she was trained, so he couldn't blame her but 
rather himself for being gullible. 

He signalled for a cab and got one just pulling up to. the hotel. He got in 
and gave the driver directions. 

The cabbie whistled. "Hey, that's way out of town. That will cost you 
plenty, brother." 

Brian nodded, glancing at his watch. "If you step on it, it'll be worth 
another ten" 

The driver grinned. "Hold on to your seat, pal." 

He gunned the engine and wheeled out of the lot. Then he rode north on the 
boulevard for several minutes, and then turned east. The residential sons 
thinned out and they drove through a long patch of desert. Ahead was a grove 
of trees, sheltered in the valley. Behind it a cluster of low rambling 
buildings. 

"That's it, ain't it? The Barton ranch?" 

"Right Go slow now and see if you can get behind those trees before any 
traffic comes up." 

The cabbie shrugged "Nothin' to it, pal." 

He brought the cab in easily past the overhanging post that proclaimed in 
chiselled letters: Emma Barton Ranchero. 

"Hold it," Barton said. The cab stopped and he peered out. They were a scant 
200 yards from the main low building. In front of it were two big Caddies. 
He could see a thin spire of smoke rising from the chimney. He grinned. His 
hunch was right. Emma was home to roost. He took a bill out of his pocket 
and tore it in half. 

"Here's half a hundred. If you can wait for me to do a little business in 
there, you get the other half." 

The cabbie gaped. "Mac, for a hundred, I'm willing to park here all day." 

Barton smiled thinly. "It won't take more than fifteen minutes. If you hear 
some shots, and I don't come out, then take off. Go 'to the Taj Palace Hotel 
and ask for Sally Parker. Tell her those were my orders and she'll give you 
whatever is due. Okay?" 

The driver shrugged. "Okay. Don't get killed. I'll make more that way." 

"Give me a few minutes after the first shots. It may take longer than I 
thought to persuade some people they made a mistake roughing me up last 
night." 

The cabbie nodded. "Yeah, I know that bunch. A lot of hard guys come and go 
at that ranch. Maybe you're crazy to go in there alone." 

"I'll find out soon enough," Barton said. He slipped out the door. Staying 
close to the cover of the grove of trees, he ran toward the house, pausing 
at times to check the front entrance. He could see no guards. 

He ran out of cover fifty yards from the house. Taking a deep breath, he 
bent low and then ran swiftly, the little .22 deadly, automatic now in his 
fist. 

Brazenly, he lifted the front door knocker. The man who opened it stared at 
the gun placed squarely on his lips. 

"Don't talk. Nod. Is Emma here?" 

The man gulped, white-faced, and nodded. 

"Same way again. Hocking?" 

Again he nodded. 

Barton sighed. This was a white-coated Mexican servant. He hated to do what 
was necessary but had no choice. "Turn around." 

The man obeyed and Barton clipped him at the base of his neck with a karate 
chop. The man. crumpled and Brian caught him as he fell and eased him into 
the corner of the room before letting him drop softly. Then he stepped 
quickly inside the big low-ceilinged living room. 

"Who was that at the door, Pedro?" Emma asked. 

Barton stood a moment watching. They were all there, and within range. 
Sitting at the room bar, their backs turned to him. Only Frankie was 
missing, Probably bled to death and they dumped him somewhere in the desert, 
Barton thought bleakly. 

"An old friend," Barton said quietly. 

He had the gun on them when they turned. Emma's eyes widened in disbelief. 
"You?" she gasped. 

"Surprised?" He found their guns, threw them aside. He made a curt movement 
with his gun. With the exception of Emma, the men raised their hands. Barton 
moved in lithely. "Put up your hands, too, Emma," he said. 

"Fuck you," she said viciously. 

He nodded pleasantly. He centered the gun on Hocking. "Hit her," Brian said. 

Hocking's jaw gaped. "What?" 

"Hit her, I said. Punch her in the mouth." 

Hocking hesitated, licking his lips. 

"Now," Barton said. "Or I shoot off your balls." He lowered the gun. 

The husky blond man swung his arm. There was a crunching sound. Blood 
spurted from Emma's mouth and she reeled back. 

"You rotten sonofabitch !" she screamed. "You knocked two teeth out!" 

"Good," Barton said. "Now we can start. Take your cock out, Hocking. I want 
Emma to suck on it for a while." 

The man paled, then looked at the gun in Brian's hand. He shrugged, and 
unzipped his fly. His long white cock came out in his hand. 

Barton nodded pleasantly to Emma. "Begin." 

She stared, eyes blazing, blood welling from her mouth. "Wait," she said. 
"I'll give you the pictures." 

"I know you will," Barton said. He turned to the other three hoods. "Turn 
around," he said. When they turned, he kicked their feet back. "Hand me that 
bottle of Scotch there, won't you, please?" he asked. 

One of them pushed the bottle toward him along the bar. Barton nodded 
briefly, picked it up, swung it back and brought it crashing down on the 
man's head. He toppled to the floor, with a sighing groan. 

Barton addressed the man who had snapped the pictures. "Your camera still 
here, Ralphie?" 

The hood nodded, eying the gun apprehensively, and then shifting frightened 
eyes to the quart bottle still in Barton's other hand. 

"Where?" 

"Behind you. In her desk:" 

Barton smiled. "I'll turn later. How's your cock, Ralphie?" 

The hood shrugged. "Okay, I guess." 

"Fine. While Emma is sucking on Hocking's cock, I want you to be fucking her 
in the ass. Got that?" 

Emma glared. "He'd better not." 

Barton spoke to Ralph. "Punch her in the mouth." 

Ralph shook his head. "She'll kill me later." 

Barton sighed. Lifting the gun, he said softly, "I guess she will. So I'll 
have to kill you now to keep you safe." 

The moon-faced hood shrugged. "Okay, I know what you can do with that." He 
took a step toward Emma. "Sorry, Mrs. B -- I gotta do what the man says." 

She cringed back, hands protecting her face. "N-no." 

"Hold her hands behind her, Hocking," Barton said. "She'll give you a better 
head job without any teeth anyway." 

As Hocking grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her, Barton signalled 
Ralph. He stepped in and swung. There was a shattering crunch and blood 
spurted from her face. Emma toppled to the floor, her face a mask of red 
blood, coughing and moaning. 

"That's the way," Barton said. "Now start sucking. It's okay if you want to 
spit out those loose front teeth." 

As she started to put her mouth around Hocking's cock, Barton signalled the 
other men. "Let's make it a regular daisy chain. Let's see. Emma sucks 
Hocking. We'll need one of you to bugger Hocking's ass while he's having his 
cock eaten. Then the other one can be shoving it up Emma." He looked at the 
big bottle in his hand. "Of course, if she doesn't like the idea, I can 
always hammer the bottle in. I don't know if it works as good as the candle. 
But I can tell you, it's a lot tougher to take out. Sometimes, I understand, 
after the tissues swell up, it's damn impossible. So, if you don't want to 
walk around the rest of your life with a bottle up your ass, Emma, dear, I 
suggest you start." He waved the gun. "Okay, take your places." 

Emma, sobbing but with fury in her eyes, crawled to her hands and knees, her 
mouth a bloody gaping maw. She reached for Hocking's cock. 

Brian waved his Astra automatic. "You're next in line, Ralph. Pull her 
panties down and get into her ass." 

Ralph lifted Emma's skirt. He patted Emma's firm buttocks. "I always wanted 
to do this anyway, counselor. You're doin' me a favor." 

"That's the spirit," Brian said. "You two get started and we'll see what we 
can do for Andy Hocking." He waved to the other two sullen, frightened men. 
"Names. please." 

"I'm Ernie," said the first. 

"I'm Pete." 

Brian thought briefly. "Hocking should be sucking off somebody while he's 
getting his own cuticle pushed back. How about you, Ernie? You feel up to 
it?" 

Ernie shrugged. "What if I don't?" 

"No problem," Brian said. "If you don't want Hocking to suck you off, then 
you'll have to suck off Pete." 

The gangster shook his head. "I'll take Hocking and let him eat me." 

"Fine," Barton said. He waved the little automatic. "Get going, please, 
while I try to fit Pete in somewhere." 

Pete made a small whimpering noise. "Okay, if I got an idea?" 

"We can use one," Barton said. "I hate to see you left out of it. Suppose we 
start you off buggering Ernie." 

"I was thinkin' maybe somethin' else," the gangster said. 

Barton raised his eyebrows. "What?" 

"Why can't Emma suck me off the same time she's doin' Hock?" 

Brian nodded. "Not a bad suggestion, Pete. I've heard of it but never seen 
it done." 

"Well, sure," Pete said. "Also now she's got her teeth knocked out, it ought 
to be a good smooth job." 

"Fine," Brian said. "All right. Now we start." 

He watched them take their places. Emma took Hocking''s cock in her mouth 
while kneeling. At the same time, Ralph fitted himself behind her and dipped 
his whang in her brown box. Ernie stood close to Hocking and showed him his 
cock. Hocking nodded glumly and put his lips around it. Then Pete tapped 
Hocking's shoulder. "Mind moving your cock to the side? I got to get mine in 
with Emma, also." 

They started to move. Emma screamed when Ralph banged her rear. As she 
opened her mouth, Hocking and Pete lunged into her mouth with their big 
cocks at the ready. 

Emma gagged. 

Ernie moved slyly and made Hocking work for his piece of meat. 

Barton watched them for a few seconds amused, then backed warily to the 
desk. He found the drawer and pulled it open. The party across the room was 
holding everybody's attention now, and he quickly shifted his eyes, found 
the camera and film in the drawer, and slipped them out. He surveyed the 
struggling, sweating group across the room. They were huffing and panting, 
moved now by the scent of each other's animal lust as much as by fear of 
Barton's gun. He smiled bleakly, walked silently to the door, and slipped 
quietly out after noting that the butler, Pedro, was still unconscious. 

He ran lightly to the grove of trees and found the taxi waiting. The driver 
looked up surprised. 

"Back already? I didn't hear no shots." 

Brian smiled. "I found something they liked more." 

"Like what?" 

"A daisy chain. Sucking each other off. Odd men doing the buggering 
outside." 

The cabbie started his engine. "Hey, that sounds like fun." 

Brian nodded. He wondered what Emma would feel like in a few hours. A lot 
like screaming, he thought. But he knew her code. The same as the gangsters: 
Do unto others while you can before they do unto you. "Here's the rest of 
the hundred dollar bill," he said. 

The cabbie took it swiftly. "Thanks. Apart from doin' what you said you did, 
you get what you wanted?" 

Brian tapped the small camera in his pocket Then he opened the envelope and 
unwound the reel of 35mm film. The first spool was there, too. The original 
prints that Hocking had taken that day in the office when he used Sally. He 
nodded to the driver. "Yes. It's a little thing called revenge." 

The driver spat out the window. "I know whatcha mean, Mac. You want back to 
the Taj Palace now?" 

"Fast as you can do it." 

"Hold your balls. Here we go." 

He got out ,at the side entrance, remembering vaguely how Sally had 
struggled to help him the night before. His keen eyes quartered the ground, 
and finally he saw the drops of blood he had shed, dried now on the tar. 

Brian's mind flashed back to the recent scene and again he saw Emma, her 
front teeth peached out, her mouth a raw, bleeding and frightful sight. He 
remembered the scorching pain he had suffered through when she had 
diabolically inserted the big candle between his buttocks and then lit it. 

 Blood for blood, he thought bleakly. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a 
tooth. 

He had the pictures now and he and Sally were safe. 

Emma had -- what? He thought about it briefly and shook his head. Probably a 
sore ass and a mouth full of two of her best gunmen underlings. Would she 
forgive them for daring to take the liberties with her person which Barton 
had insisted upon? He doubted it. She would get rid of them all now. But at 
the same time, they had something on her she could never retrieve. Their 
memory of this day where she had taken two in her mouth and one in her rear 
compartment. 

Brian found Sally' in the lobby. She was at the far end of a long line of 
slot machines. As he cable closer, he saw her face angry as she dropped in 
a' coin. She saw him as her hand gripped the lever. It was taking every 
ounce of her willpower not to throw her arms around his neck and weep for 
joy at' the sight of him; safe with her again, and unharmed. 

"Damn machines," she said. "You were right. They are one-armed bandits, all 
right. They've taken everything I had that you gave me, and. this is my last 
quarter. Well, here goes," she said, feigning a gambler's concentration to 
mask her true feelings. She pulled the lever. "The wheels spun and the limes 
and cherries and lemons rolled their pattern, almost too fast for the eye to 
see. Then there was a clanking sound. 

A bell went off and she jumped nervously. Coins clanged and jangled and a 
red light went off overhead, spelling out Jackpot! 

Silver coins flooded the lower compartment and spilled out over her hands to 
the floor. She saw people staring, their eyes incredulous. 

"I did it, I did it! I hit the jackpot, Brian!" 

He nodded, watching coolly as she scampered for the loose coins. He waited 
until she had them all, held in the hem of her dress. "There must be at 
least fifty dollars here," she said. "We're lucky." Then seeing his relaxed 
eyes, she forced herself to casually ask, "Oh, how did you do with your 
errand?" 

He smiled, showing her the rolls of films. "Not bad. Can we go upstairs now 
and celebrate?" 

Sally grabbed his arm. "Please," she said, but her eyes smarted with tears 
of relief, and her heart swelled with the love she felt for this fantastic 
man. 


THE END
