The Blackmail Club
by R. Van Dorne
(BSS-664T)


FOREWORD 

R. Van Dorne, author of this topical and realistic novel, has brought out 
with clarity and lucidity the problems which present themselves to the women 
of our fighting men overseas. Although his study is confined to this 
particular topic, it, of course, exceeds - as does any work of art - the 
specific boundaries of its subject to reach a much more general 
applicability. 

The problems Mr. Van Dome documents apply equally well to any woman who 
experiences long periods of isolation and worry - be she the wife of the 
traveling businessman, the long-haul truck driver, or the highly placed 
corporate executive. There has been a tendency in contemporary American 
society to forget that women, just as men, are physical human beings with 
the same emotional and physical needs. Perhaps this is accounted for - as 
many in the women's liberation movement would tell us - because this 
judgement both in the social and legal sense has always been made by men. 

The timing in presenting a novel documenting this subject area is especially 
relevant since it comes during a period of increased social and economic 
freedom for the female sex. They are being judged ever more by the same 
standards of conduct as the heretofore masters, the male sex. Society has 
now recognized that women do have the same drives, and the same weaknesses, 
as men, and with this recognition comes also the same types of problems. 
Sometimes the greatest moral strength can be conquered by others who use 
unscrupulous means to achieve their ends. In such a situation the crucial 
moral strength of a person can become his own antagonist and be turned 
against him. 

Mr. Van Dome has clarified this latter point vividly in the poignant story 
of "The Blackmail Club". In so doing, he has divided his portrayal into two 
of the key elements of the complex emotion love. First, he has isolated the 
element of loneliness, and shown how the main character Rosemary White, when 
dominated by this element, is slowly drawn through the evil designs of 
others into a situation which, under normal circumstances, she could easily 
control by the strength of her convictions against sexual promiscuity. , 
Rosemary does indeed recognize the escalating danger points as her position 
worsens with each further retreat she makes from conscience, but the only 
avenues of escape she finds open to her are more of those same retreats. Her 
judgement is dimmed by the overwhelming loneliness she feels, and the 
resultant physical stresses placed on her; then too her normally sharply 
critical faculties are dimmed by the use of alcohol and drugs. Yet the 
alcohol and drugs do not, in the final analysis, compel her to commit the 
acts she commits; rather, they function only to protect her concept of 
herself as a faithful wife from being utterly shattered during the most 
trying of circumstances. Ultimately what saves her is no outside force, but 
rather the very strength of her own moral character which, as the novel 
clearly demonstrates, cannot be diverted by any means, no matter how 
persistent or perverted. 

The second element that Mr. Van Dome portrays so lucidly is the reaction of 
Rosemary to the threat of blackmail from Vance Winston. Although 
circumstances might well excuse her, it is apparent that she holds only 
herself to blame for the momentary weakness which allowed the possession of 
the blackmail films by Vance. She is so excusing of others - and conversely 
so critical of herself - that one cannot help sympathizing with her as she 
struggles within her own mind over the alternatives of submitting within her 
own mind over the alternatives of submitting to Vance's depraved demands and 
therefore forfeiting the shreds of self-respect she retains, or the total 
destruction of her husband, who is an absent and unimplicated party to the 
entire sorry affair. 

Her bravery and unselfish dedication must be admired when her strength comes 
to play as she is confronted by these alternatives. She accepts almost 
stoically, as did Christian martyrs under Roman persecution, any punishment 
necessary to extricate the innocent party - her husband - from any damage 
which could result from her one fatal moment of weakness. It is a tribute to 
Mr. Van Dome's writing that in the highly varied emotional situations with 
which Rosemary is confronted, she remains fully a human being throughout. 
Her predictability is constant as her character to the very end, in the best 
tradition of the late Victorian English novels as she faces insurmountable 
odds - and emerges victorious over those individuals with less strength of 
purpose. In this way she is similar to David Copperfield in Charles Dickens' 
novel of the same name; but since Mr. Dickens' times the natures of the 
pitfalls and antagonists have changed, and in this sense Mr. Van Dome's 
study represents a needed updating. Rosemary is such a compassionate and 
selfless person that her acts in the end put to shame those devious 
individuals such as Vance who cause her to commit them. Particularly 
noteworthy in this connection is her brave acceptance of having sexual 
relations with the one person she most loathes - the half-idiot Clark - in 
order to save her innocent cousin from the same fate. The most critical 
reader will look in vain for any trace of a selfish motive in this. 

Through its thoroughly human, sensitive approach, this novel speaks to 
everyone. Each of us - at least once in a lifetime - is compelled by the 
force of an emotion, be it loneliness or something else, to commit an act of 
which we are ashamed and which we would not otherwise commit but for the 
force of the emotion. And we should be judged by how and why we recover from 
the impact of such an act, rather than by the act itself considered in 
isolation from its context and consequences. This strength of recovery is, 
indeed, where human courage begins. Author Van Dome has demonstrated with 
compelling boldness the courage of one such person, Rosemary White, whose 
story we present in the following pages . . . 

-The Publishers 

 CHAPTER ONE 

She lay sunning herself, stretched luxuriously on the chaise lounge and 
dreaming, mixing the sound of the gulls overhead with her dream. The dull 
aluminum frame of her chaise, the summer-burned grass, the parched and 
peeling plants, all contrasted sharply with her lustrous long black hair and 
her richly bronzed flesh. She looked very much alive; she had indeed always 
met life head on - just as directly as she now met the sun with her exposed, 
relaxed face. Her eyes were closed, not squinting, and without sunglasses; 
her face looked young - as twenty-five should - and possessed a magnetism to 
which the people she'd met over those twenty-five years had invariably 
responded. The bronze color of her face, her arms and shoulders and legs, 
was interrupted by the black lower half of her bathing suit - and by whiter, 
softer shades where the upper half should have been. Her exceptionally full 
breasts pointed free and upward toward the sun; they had such tiny, pink-tan 
buds at the end that they looked like over-ripe fruits trying to burst. When 
people compared Rosemary to Sophia Loren it was not only for her long black 
hair. 

A dense ring of bushes and trees surrounded the yard, guaranteeing Rosemary 
the privacy needed to for once let some sunshine fall on her naked young 
breasts. The yard was well-populated by flowers - it retained the look of 
prosperity which had been planted into it. The grass, however, was browner 
than it should have been for this part of California in early summer. The 
grass had been Kevin's job. The same combination of solidness and neglect 
might be seen in the house itself. Large, new and sturdy, the house gleamed 
its cream-color in the sun; yet a closer gaze revealed some things which 
needed doing - a loose screen-door hinge, large blisters of paint hanging 
from the window frames, a busted water-hose connection. These things Kevin 
would also have fixed, had he been here. And all of these matters were only 
trivialities compared to the real lack Rosemary felt - the lack of emotional 
and bodily satisfaction Kevin would have provided her. 

Would have, if he were there! 

He was in Vietnam. They had lived together quite happily until he got 
drafted and left her, of necessity, to her own devices. He'd had a good job, 
as a junior executive in an engineering firm, and they'd been able to afford 
this house and large spread of land in prestigious, rural Redwood City, and 
the rest of the material life-standards that went with it. Rosemary did 
still manage to keep things financially together: Kevin sent her his army 
pay and she now worked part-time as a receptionist to supplement it. Money 
was not the root of her problems. The root was Kevin's absence, his absence 
which now spanned nearly two years . . . 

The doorbell rang. Rosemary, startled from her dreamy half-sleep, reached on 
the grass beside her for her bathing-suit top, which she then hastily 
kneaded her full sensuous breasts into. As she clamped it shut behind her 
back, she was already running into the house tugging at the bottom of her 
suit to make sure it, too, was in place. 

A Western Union boy stood holding a crisp yellow envelope for her. 

"You Mrs. Rosemary White?" he asked. 

"Yes, yes," she said, "give me the telegram!" She yanked it from his hands 
and closed the door, the duty of tipping him never occurring to her; she ran 
into the living room where she sat in a chair and tried to calm herself, 
still holding the unopened telegram. It could mean one of two things: either 
Kevin was dead, or he was coming home. She stuck a fingernail under the flap 
and with her trembling finger raked the top of the envelope open; she nearly 
destroyed the little paper inside pulling it out. 

Kevin was coming home! 

In three months! 

She sank into the chair. She could feel her heart pounding at every point 
where her body touched the chair. She'd thought. .. she'd thought.. . But 
no! He was coming home, and so soon! God almighty was that good news, the 
one piece of news which she needed more than anything. She sure wanted that, 
all right. Kevin home! 

She began to relax, her heart very gradually slowing, and already visions of 
a bright new future with Kevin filled her head. She slowly pulled herself 
up, walked to the liquor sideboard, and poured a small, weak gin and tonic, 
which she carried into the backyard. Standing over the chaise, she reached 
behind her and undid the top of her bathing suit: she tore it off and 
exuberantly gave it a strong fling across the yard. She felt very free, 
refreshed, and healthy now that Kevin was coming home. "Let the boobs out," 
she thought. Kevin sometimes used words like that, and when he used them she 
didn't mind. Kevin had a plucky character, in fact, that was one of the 
things which had drawn her to him; he used common words and also his own 
invented words to speak of her body, her voluptuously ripened body which he 
loved. How he loved it! The wedding night she had practically been eaten 
alive, and all of their married months following the wedding night - and 
there were not many before he got drafted - his attention and devotion to 
her had never flagged. She had lived encased and protected in a sort of web 
of devotion - physical, emotional, spiritual. 

Yes, let the breasts out; let them out into the jiggling, erratic freedom 
they now enjoyed as she again settled into the chaise, gin tonic in her 
hand; let them get a little brown for Kevin would like that. It was all for 
Kevin now, everything, each single breath she took, each gull that passed 
shrieking overhead, each ray of sunlight which imperceptibly darkened her 
body. It was for Kevin, all of it, for their new life together, for their 
happiness, for something different from the hell she was in now . . . 

My god! she thought, the bright, confident vision of her future rising in a 
single bubble which then burst in the sun, the fragments evaporating. Tears 
formed in her eyes. 

Christ! If only it wasn't true, if only she had actually gotten out; Lord 
knew she had wanted to for several months, but that ruthless Vance . .. No, 
she stopped herself, she had never yet actually tried to get out; and 
perhaps if she did try Vance might in fact let her out - let her out without 
blackmailing her later. The whole business was just such a nightmare: the 
whole business with the group, the group she was in! 

Months ago she had promised herself she would get out of the circle before 
Kevin came home; and, once she'd made that promise, she'd slipped into the 
sort of mental half-lethargy, half-hell which had been her life for so long 
now, thanks to the circle. Worst of all, had she even - if she were honest 
with herself - enjoyed some of the group's activities? 

She sank deeper into the chaise, her face covered with tears. She knew the 
answer to that question. God help her, she had! She had enjoyed some of 
those parties, all right. She looked down at her body - at her ample hips, 
long sculpture-perfect bronzed legs, white mounded breasts with the tiny 
tips on the ends. She began to sob out loud. She was a whore! A common 
whore! she thought, for how many others had gazed over that body she now 
looked at, that body she would like to think was just for Kevin. For Kevin - 
hah! If he knew how many others had not just looked at that body but 
possessed it, over the last months, why - why there would be no more of the 
two of them. That was for sure. She could not even pass the thought of all 
the things she had done through her own mind without a shiver of disgust. 
Sure she'd been drunk, sure she'd been desperate - but the depths she had 
sunk to, the incredible depravity of the acts she herself had committed in 
Vance's circle! Why did it have to be so? Why did Kevin have to go away in 
the first place leaving her accessible to traps like the one she had fallen 
into? Why could she not now, right this minute, be free of the circle, free 
to enjoy the future with Kevin she so desperately wanted and needed? 

Whatever could she do? she sobbed to herself in total desperation. 

The months of depraved, wanton activities fused into a whirling delirious 
nightmare of horror as she lay crying with her eyes shut, the sun which beat 
down on her closed eyelids providing a red background for the images which 
danced before her. Images in which she appeared, sometimes in the very 
middle, the central figure, others working her curvaceous form over like a 
delicacy to be sampled or a piece of meat to be consumed whole. In some 
scenes she hung off to the side, a minor player in some hellish vision of 
obscenity, an insect gnawing on some pathetically small bit of carrion. 
Sometimes too she played the part of the sex-hungry antagonist, the one 
circling over the frightened central figure, swooping with a buzzard's 
watchful patience induced by a complete certainty about what would follow, 
time being the only uncertainty. Then she pounced and the vision became a 
tangled cacophony of nakedly intertwined arms and legs, heaving breasts and 
gyrating curly-haired loins and milk-white trembling buttocks, in a union 
sealed by frustration, by drugs, and by the liquor which washed over the 
entire orgiastic scene like a brown rain. The visions swirled ever more 
rapidly before Rosemary's eyes, until they were all her - her in her 
weakness which had become obscenity, the delirious red-blurred scenes surely 
a direct glimpse into hell itself. 

She opened her eyes, still sobbing. 

"My god! My god!" she said to herself, her desperation total, the vision she 
now saw of the future completely black. So alone as Rosemary was, her moods 
were volatile, in these few minutes she had gone from the shock of the 
telegram to the joy of an unblemished future with Kevin, only to remember 
her hellish present which kept that desired future from her. And her 
dejection was the more extreme, because of the extreme joy it had destroyed. 

Yet already she felt a change. She had sunk to such an absolute bottom of 
depression that her raw thoughts made contact with the flint-hard core of 
strength in her being; the strength which - if it sometimes helped her get 
into trouble - was also capable of getting her out. She stopped sobbing and 
stared blankly before her in intense concentration. 

She knew what she would do, all right. And she would do it today. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Rosemary - dressed in the oldest and least attractive dress she could find 
in the house - drove in her Porsche through the hills out of Redwood City. 
She passed the long wooden fences, the horses, the occasional houses. On a 
weekday there was no traffic going toward the coast; she drove fast - as 
fast as the road curving through the coastal hills would allow - because she 
wanted to get there before the tiniest grain of her determination might 
disappear. 

The bright, close summer sun beat down on the car; Rosemary, in her long 
dark dress, sweltered and did not realize she might have rolled down some 
windows and improved the situation. She was the picture, the embodiment, of 
resolve, and the fuel she ran on was the prospect of Kevin coming home in 
three months. 

How she wanted to be pure again for that time! How she wanted it! 

On the coast road now, she could already see the mansion. It swung in and 
out of her view from a distance of about two miles. The way it perched on 
the very edge of the coastal shelf, just an arm's length from the sheer 
rocky drop down to the Pacific, made it look like some medieval castle up on 
a protective promontory, its site both its protection and its biggest 
danger. The mansion, as it neared, swinging in and out of view as Rosemary 
navigated the curves of the coast road, looked threatening and sadistic as 
the waves crashed and foamed on the rocks below. Yet it also looked 
impressive, beautiful, romantic. 

It sported four towers, each in a slightly different style, like a real 
castle should. The balconies were wrapped in a lace of wrought iron; windows 
appeared everywhere, in asymmetry, and some of the smaller, oval-shaped 
windows tucked in the towers had stained glass like jewels; the stone-work 
was heavy yet delicate, a mosaic composed of shades of gray the same color 
as the rocks the mansion perched on - and it was not easy to determine at 
what point the stone of the mansion stopped and the rocks of the California 
coast began. 

This house, in its uniqueness and romance, was one of the things which had 
drawn Rosemary to Vance in the first place, with its large glass panes 
looking directly out on the foggy ocean, its room after room of rich 
polished old wood, the well-kept, delicate Victorian furniture. This mansion 
- Vance's castle - was as ambiguous and ambivalent as Vance himself. 

Both man and house had their romantic and exceptionally attractive side; and 
both had their dangerous, threatening side; Rosemary was not, to this day, 
ever sure which side was the more dominant in Vance. She would never know. 
What motivated him was anyone's guess. He had fine, understanding 
characteristics such that Rosemary might have considered him a friend; yet 
his darker side was so totally dominating, so selfish and unpredictable, 
that any moment when she lowered her guard with him and considered him a 
friend might be the very moment Vance chose to trick her into a deeper 
servitude. 

She pulled in the driveway. She did not like to be on this side - the coast 
side - of the road unless she was actually in the house. She had driven the 
entire length of California's coast road and knew that there were few houses 
on it, and virtually none at all on the coastal side of the road. The 
difficulty of construction - the cost - was one reason; desire was another. 
Rosemary looked down at the cascade of boulders which dropped down from 
beside her parked car to the thudding waves. Much as she hated the view, 
fearing it, and much as she longed to be within the relative protection of 
the house's walls, she remained in the car in order to strengthen her 
resolve still more. She knew Vance, or one of Vance's servants, would 
already have noticed her presence; but it didn't matter - the important 
thing was that when she did get up the nerve to go into the house Vance 
would find her a powerhouse of resolve. 

She could write a book about it, she thought. Except that she had no talent 
for writing. But there were few characters in literature who were so 
multi-faceted as Vance, so enigmatic, so compelling. For some time now - 
nearly an entire year - Rosemary had lived in fear as well as awe of Vance. 
She did not like him but she respected him. Gradually, bit-by-bit, he had 
come to have absolute control over her sex life. Vance now had more to say 
about her body than she herself. Watching the waves rise toward shore, thud 
into the rocks, and splinter into thousands of glittering fragments, 
Rosemary pondered Vance's circle of friends and how she'd gotten into it. 

The circle was a group of over a dozen people who conducted, under Vance's 
seen or unseen guidance, sex parties together. The people were young, all of 
them, and attractive - incredibly attractive, healthy-looking, friendly. 
Vance had good taste; and though he was older - pushing forty - he himself 
was the most attractive, with his superficially charming manner, his easy 
smile, sturdy build, the power he had of making those around him feel 
relaxed and reassured. Rosemary had met him through her job as receptionist; 
Vance, a financial entrepreneur, conducted his own business from his home 
but had had, for a period of some weeks, dealings with Rosemary's firm, 
loaning them the capital to expand. 

In the course of those few weeks the wealthy middle-aged man had passed many 
times through her office, at first just glancing at her respectfully, 
pleasantly; then exchanging a few words of small-talk; and always in the 
background, influencing the way Rosemary thought of him, were the comments 
about Vance which she overheard from influential people in her company: 
"Vance was easy to deal with;" "A humanist among dogs compared to other 
financiers." "A solid, decent businessman." Rosemary might have been naive, 
but she was not stupid. Vance's appeal was such that he had tricked many far 
more worldly and cautious people than Rosemary into his web. When Vance 
finally, nonchalantly, asked her to dinner, she accepted. 

"What's the harm?" she thought. "I need some contact and some friends while 
Kevin is away. Kevin himself said that, before he left. I don't want to turn 
into a vegetable before he comes back. Nor, on the other hand, do I want to 
actually date anybody; but dinner, some parties, what's the harm?" 

There was no harm, in the beginning. 

Vance called for her in his chauffeur-driven Jaguar, sat a respectable 
distance from her in the back, and took her hand only in guiding her in and 
out of the car. The restaurants the chauffeur drove them to were superb and 
unknown to Rosemary; and Vance himself, though he spoke little of his life 
or business, was good, understanding, company. Rosemary did, of course, say 
a few words about Kevin. She even said point-blank she was very lonely 
without him. 

Once on a Sunday Vance drove her to his house. She fell instantly in love 
with it and, as Vance guided her from paneled room to paneled room, and up 
the twisting staircases of the towers, the Pacific always just on the other 
side of the glass beside them, her impression of Vance improved still more. 
He was shy even in taking her hand or touching her on the back to show her 
which way to go. He never really tried to touch her, he never kissed her; he 
seemed to live in a realm apart and their relation was, she thought, 
touchingly platonic. Kevin would approve! As they stood gazing out at the 
ocean Vance mentioned casually that he was giving a party here in a few days 
and he would be delighted if she would come. It took Rosemary only a moment 
to reflect: she loved the house, would love to be in it again; and she 
wanted to meet the people who would be Vance's friends, at least once out of 
curiosity, for she'd had nothing whatever to do with the really moneyed 
class - the class to which she would, together with Kevin, belong someday. 

The party was, of course, a sex party. 

It took Rosemary a long time to realize that's what it was, for it began 
quite innocuously with cocktails and standing conversations as the sun set 
through the huge glass panes beside them. Vance's house was enormous, each 
room having the air and spaciousness of a gallery or museum, and the guests 
moved about freely throughout it. A few seemed to get lost up in the towers, 
but that sort of thing happened at most parties, and Rosemary was not 
shocked. She had no desire to dictate others' morals - just her own. When 
several people drifted down to the basement, she followed: from her own free 
will, no one forced her. The conversations continued in a sort of parlor 
down in the basement, and the trays of drinks continued circulating 
throughout the crowd, borne by servants dressed in white dinner-jackets. 
When Vance announced that the film room was now ready if anyone cared to 
come in, the people flowed through the door into the room. 

At this point - seeing the peculiar room - innocent Rosemary should have 
suspected something. The room was odd - the vibrations rang wrong. But the 
whole house was so strange and new to Rosemary that this room did not, at 
first, seem stranger than the rest. And the people themselves - so 
confidently wealthy, so exuberant and young and healthy - she trusted. 
Buoyed up by the charm of the guests and of Vance himself, by the beauty of 
the house and by the quantity of liquor she had already consumed, she went 
all the way into the film room and sat down without suspecting a thing. 

The film room amounted to about twenty booths, separated by shoulder-height, 
upholstered partitions, each booth facing the front of the room on which was 
a screen as big as those in theaters. Rosemary settled into a booth along 
with a shy, handsome man named Hank Masters. The booth was large and they 
sat a respectable distance apart; at each end was a small shelf for drinks, 
and Rosemary put her purse on hers and got comfortable, for it was clear by 
now they were going to watch a film. The seat portion of the booth was a 
little strange: a single-bed-sized mattress, with a mattress cover Rosemary 
assumed was to catch any stains from the drinks. The mattress itself gave 
her pause. She glanced repeatedly down at it, verifying that it was a 
mattress and not just some sort of cushion especially appropriate to 
film-viewing. 

A waiter came by, asked with what should he fill their glasses, and then 
filled them. Rosemary drank and studied the odd room - she wanted to ask her 
companion about it, but yet was afraid to for fear she would be committing 
some social blunder. The room had a large bar running the entire length of 
one side wall. There was food here, too - refrigerators, a freezer, a stove. 
The place was stocked well enough to endure an atomic siege; perhaps that's 
really what it was, Rosemary thought, a fallout shelter! There were no 
windows whatever. One corner contained a stack of blankets and pillows and 
next to it was a long row of clothes-closets, a woman's toilet, a man's 
toilet, and a door marked "Showers" which did not seem to make a distinction 
between women and men. Rosemary now began to get worried, but the lights had 
already dimmed, conversations hushed, and she stayed sitting frozen where 
she was for fear of calling attention to herself or making some unknown 
social blunder. In the rear of the room, from a slightly elevated, 
glass-walled projection booth, some rays of color began to shoot out and 
over the heads of the audience. 

"One for the road - and four for the bed," announced a voice - Vance's - 
from large loudspeakers located on either side of the movie screen. 
Preliminary, scratchy frames began to flicker across the screen, without 
credits and without title - Vance had supplied that. 

In a few moments there were actors in living color wildly fucking before 
Rosemary's astonished eyes! 

She had never seen anyone else making love; she had never even considered 
how it might look, for sexual intercourse was something private between her 
and Kevin and not to be shared. Soon she noticed heavy aroused breathing in 
the nearby booths and white patches of naked quivering flesh began to appear 
suddenly all over the room. Some people went to the showers and came back 
into the room totally naked. From where she sat she could see clearly three 
couples actually fucking, their lewdly pumping bodies flailing about as loud 
groans of passion sliced into the room's silence. Horrified as she was, the 
naive young wife was afraid to move! And she became, despite herself, 
involuntarily stimulated by watching the impassioned screwing on the screen 
and the even more impassioned fucking in reality nearby - which she could 
hear ever more distinctly. By the time Hank Masters made gentle advances 
toward her she was so desperately altered by the liquor and her hungering 
need which the long, long absence of Kevin had left unsatisfied - turning 
the love-starved wife into a powder-keg of frustrations - that Hank found a 
fairly easy conquest. 

Hank Masters fucked the shamelessly aroused girl, from several different 
exotic positions - most new to her - and at the end Rosemary had such an 
overpowering orgasm that she screamed uncontrollably and almost passed out 
as her naked young body convulsed beneath this stranger. 

It was only after she had groaned and fitfully twitched out the last 
receding tremors of her adulterous passion that she saw Vance - fully 
clothed - standing several feet away operating a movie camera. The movie 
camera which sealed her doom. 

He had made a film of it! 

Even now, sitting in her parked car watching the waves pound and shatter 
below, the thought of that film gave Rosemary chills. That was how she got 
into the orgiastic circle, all right: by one large but forgivable slip in 
her will power, which Vance had filmed and kept as an unspoken but 
crystal-clear threat of blackmail. That prospect of blackmail, hanging above 
Rosemary's head like the sword of Damascus, had served - served very well - 
to keep her in the group, to pull the friendless and trapped young woman 
ever deeper into the circle. By now, almost a year after that first fatal 
party, Vance owned many films of Rosemary engaged in various acts of sexual 
degradation. Which - she shuddered - she had licentiously enjoyed! What a 
whore she must be! Vance had never spoken a word of using the revealing 
films for blackmail, nor had he ever showed any of them to Rosemary; yet 
Rosemary and the other club members knew very well about the threatening 
film collection Vance had, of all the members, and about the guarantee they 
provided that the members would abide by the club's rules. 

Rosemary, by now, knew the rules well - no brutality; no activities which 
would leave marks, for discovery by a husband or relative could bring the 
police; no mention of the circle to anyone; no absence from circle meetings 
except due to real illness or, in the case of women, menstrual periods - and 
Vance actually kept a chart of these and knew when to expect them; and there 
were certain rules about skipping a session, or leaving the circle entirely, 
which Rosemary knew well and which indeed it was her desperate intent now to 
get Vance to alter for her. 

Definite as the rules were, they were all subject to alteration or softening 
by Vance. Vance was in effect - since he had all the lewdly incriminating 
films - the club's dictator. 

The pretty brunette left the car and - keeping distant from the cliff - 
walked purposefully to his door, ringing until a servant appeared. 

"Is Vance here?" 

"Yes, Miss, he's in his study. Would you like to go in?" 

"Thank you," said Rosemary, and she headed directly for the study. The 
servant, seeing that she knew her way, left her. 

"Ah, Rosemary!" 

Vance swirled in his chair, rose with extended hand, and seemed genuinely 
pleased to see her. "You bring an old man pleasure! I must say, I'm tired of 
this dreadful stuff." He pointed with a sweep of his hand to the papers 
strewn over his desk. "I'm thinking about giving it up. Thinking of 
retiring, so to speak. Just clip the coupons." 

As usual he succeeded in disarming her. If only he looked and acted like the 
bastard he was, her job would be so much easier! 

"Vance," she said, "I've just gotten a telegram." 

Vance sat again in his chair, leaning back to listen. 

"Kevin is coming home." 

Vance sat silently, his eyes averted now to stare out at the sky and ocean. 
That was sympathy Rosemary saw in those little creases around his eyes now - 
Rosemary knew it! Perhaps she really could get what she wanted from him. 

"Vance," she hurried on, "I want to leave the circle. Because Kevin is 
coming home." She paused. "If he found out, that would be the end of my 
life." 

"I understand," Vance said, still staring reflectively out the windows, "I 
understand." He glanced at Rosemary for a second, taking in for the first 
time the length, age, and the purposefully planned ugliness of her dowdy 
dress - and a faint smile seemed to cross his lips. 

"But Rosemary," he continued, reaching into a drawer at his side and pulling 
out a piece of paper, "there's this." He pushed the paper toward Rosemary. 

It was a schedule. 

And on it Rosemary was already slated for more depraved activities for the 
next two months, including the big weekend-long orgy down in Vance's summer 
house in Monterey which would take place in two months. 

"We all know the rules," Vance said. "Any session you don't want to come to, 
you have to find a substitute for. An acceptable substitute - we don't want 
just anyone in here, of course. In fact, Rosemary, I really wonder that 
you've never had a substitute come to a meeting for you - most other members 
do it regularly. Heavens - even I do it!" 

"I don't know anyone like that, anyone who would ..." 

The circles around Vance's eyes tightened, and Rosemary knew she'd said it 
wrong. "I don't know a substitute," she corrected. 

"Well then, Rosemary," Vance said softly, "I don't see how you expect to get 
out of the circle. You know the rules for quitting - bring two new girls 
into the circle to replace you. And if you don't know one substitute, 
however do you expect to find two?" 

Rosemary sank into a chair near Vance, her head spinning. Of course she 
didn't know any substitutes - not one, certainly not two! Never in her life 
had she known anyone who did things like that; never; she herself had never 
done things like that.. . before getting trapped in the awful sex-circle! 
She knew the others had substitutes, she'd seen them at the various orgies 
and she had, god help her, once been had by a couple. But the others in the 
circle seemed to have it easier than Rosemary, in all ways. Who could she 
get to replace her? No one. No one but her could fill her place. But she had 
to get out! Christ! 

Vance sensed her confusion. "Rosemary," he began, sliding his chair closer 
to her. "You know I can grant some special favors. I mean, I shouldn't - 
there's some danger." He touched his hands together by the fingertips. 
"There are several others who keep rather a close eye on what I do, who 
would like to divert the whole circle from me to them in one fell swoop, as 
it were, if I should turn out to be doing them wrong. Did you know that?" 

Rosemary shook her head no. Once again Vance, in his soft, reassuring way, 
had calmed her and completely diverted her attention to his own problems. 

"It's not quite the dictatorship it might appear. Any group, any 
undertaking, has always got several people waiting nearby, like hungry 
buzzards, to swoop in if the leader should show signs of weakness. But. .. 
we're getting sidetracked. That's not your problem, but mine ..." He raised 
himself from his chair to stand closer to Rosemary - but he still did not 
touch her. 

"Rosemary, I like you. I'll help you - I'll take the risk. I'll either have 
to find the subs myself, or somehow snow the other irritated members. . . 
but I'll do it. If... if..." He allowed his hand to drop affectionately onto 
her shoulder, to even slide somewhat from her smoothly sloping shoulder 
downward to the beginning swell of one round, firmly set breast. 

From Vance, that was a shock! 

He had never taken part in any of the group's wildest sex activities - never 
- except to watch or make films, himself fully dressed. And he'd never 
touched the almost irresistibly sensuous Rosemary except in the dating days 
when he'd helped her in and out of cars and rooms. Now, hungrily, almost 
pathetically, he had allowed one hand to slip down almost to the faintly 
visible nipple of her curving breast. And though Vance had personally seen 
her voluptuous and naked body being fucked, this present sly action, from 
him, was somehow even more obscene. She felt like a whore. A whore! Vance's 
hand, shy as a schoolboy's, had now established tentative contact with her 
involuntarily erecting nipple beneath the coarse material of her dress. 

"I'll let you out, Rosemary," Vance said, recovering himself, if you'll... 
do me a favor. A personal favor." 

Rosemary shuddered, beginning to get the drift. 

Vance added: "And if you do that little favor, I will, I promise, return the 
films to you. Every one." He went nostalgically on: "Even though several are 
personal favorites of mine." 

Rosemary's flesh cringed at that last. The bastard! What did that queer do 
with the films, show them for himself in his spare time? Masturbating all 
the while, perhaps? People told obscene stories like that about Vance, 
though they were only idle rumors - no one knew for sure what he actually 
did. But - from what he just said about the lewdly implicating films of 
pretty Rosemary - she wondered if there might be some truth to them! 

"What do you say, Rosemary?" 

"What CAN I say?" 

Vance spun away from her and stood before a window. After a minute's 
silence, he said: "I don't want it to be like that. I'm not a beast, 
Rosemary. I like you - it's really as simple as that. Don't be bitter, 
Rosemary. Would it at least be possible to have sex as a favor - if not 
enjoy it?" 

"If I may ask - how do you want it, Vance?" She shuddered. 

"Quite normally. You on the bottom, on your back, me on top. We can go in a 
bedroom if you would like to be comfortable." 

Rosemary gritted her teeth. She had to summon every ounce of courage for 
this task, for somehow being touched by Vance of all people, and in so cold 
and calculated a fashion as this, was more humiliating and obscene than 
anything she'd ever done. Yet she had to do it - if only for her dear 
husband Kevin. She had to lay on her back and let this disgusting man do it 
to her, and she could only hope that that was all. She was clenching her 
teeth so hard they began to give her pain, and finally she stopped, 
resigned, her tanned face glowing pinkly with anger. There was no 
alternative: she had to submit. 

"We don't need to go to the bedroom," Rosemary said. "We can do it here. 
Wherever you want." Anything to just get it over with. Obscene it would be, 
no matter what. Just get it done. 

"The rug there is thick," Vance said, motioning with his hand. "Perhaps that 
will be adequate ..." 

"It will be adequate." She paused. "Shall I. . . undress now?" 

"Please. But let me get my camera." 

"Vance! You bastard! Don't take more pictures of me! What do you mean, 
you're letting me out, if you're going to make still more pictures?" 

Vance walked next to Rosemary and put his arm around her, not seeming to 
notice that she cringed. He said softly - though his voice trembled with 
lascivious desire - "Rosemary, as a special favor for me, please let me make 
some pictures of your beautiful body. To remember you by. I like you, you 
know. You'll get all of the movies back, but I would like now to just make a 
couple of still photographs of you which do not include the head. Nothing to 
worry about. I'll use my polaroid, and you can see for yourself that they 
don't include the head." 

Rosemary, tears running down her cheeks, unzipped the back of the long, ugly 
dress and let it fall to the floor. Underneath she had forgotten to dress 
ugly - she hadn't expected anyone to be seeing underneath! She had on, as 
was her habit, white bikini panties and a white half-brassiere which fringed 
into lace just where the still faintly apparent nipples were. Vance took one 
picture of Rosemary in her underwear, and Rosemary jerked - startled - at 
the camera's click. Then she stepped slowly and trembling out of her sheer 
nylon panties as Vance kneeled down across from her. 

"Spread your legs a little," he ordered. 

The nerve of the man! She had never before blatantly posed for pictures. He 
had made the films of her, but he had never given directions, he had shot 
them spontaneously and usually she hadn't even noticed him hovering nearby 
with the camera. But this - this business of posing, of him telling her just 
exactly what to do with her helplessly exposed body - it really shamed her! 
Yet what else could she do, what else could she do but obey? 

Reluctantly, she spread her thighs slightly. 

"Wider!" Vance shouted. "Don't be such a prude." 

Rosemary slowly separated her feet outward, as Vance zoomed in and shot a 
picture of her exposed pussy mound, with its thin "vee" of intensely black 
hair running down between her provocatively parted legs, revealing the 
contour of her pink cuntal slit where the sparse hair thinned out and the 
deep blushing color of her vaginal lips showed through. Rosemary was built, 
all right. And as with any woman, she had a slight streak of the 
exhibitionist in her, and under the right conditions she did like to have 
her enticing young body observed. But not now, not in this cold, obscene way 
by this creepy Vance! 

After taking the picture of her spread vagina, Vance developed it and then 
showed it, along with the former picture of Rosemary in her skimpy white 
underwear, to the relieved girl, so that she could verify that it did not 
show her face and could not be used for blackmail. She laughed inwardly at 
the one of her in her suggestively skimpy underwear - it was like something 
from a pin-up magazine. But when she saw the second, the one shot upward 
from between her brazenly separated legs, she did not laugh - by the 
geometry of things she had never seen her own naked pink vagina from below. 
She'd never seen any of the films Vance had made. This picture was so 
obscene, so disgusting to her because it was all black pubic hair and 
rose-blushing cunt, with very little figure around it. Is that the way Vance 
wanted to remember her individuality? "And now from the back," Vance 
commanded. 

Damn the man! Damn him! And to think she had sometimes begun to consider him 
her friend! Why couldn't he do the moving, why did it have to be her as 
though she were some trapped butterfly being mounted on a pin for scientific 
study? She turned around until her smooth sloping back was facing the camera 
and, sighing, spread her slender legs again as she had done before, planting 
her feet invitingly outward to a revealing distance of four or more feet 
apart. Was that good enough? she wondered, blushing furiously from shame. 

"Bend forward!" Vance ordered, answering her thought. 

Rosemary leaned slightly forward, the position a strain for her stretching 
body until the camera finally clicked. Soon Vance brought the picture to her 
- a pair of large firm buttocks in the center of the picture, a glimpse of 
wispy black hair beginning near the bottom of the deep narrow crevice 
between them and dropping to expand into the fuller curls of her pussy mound 
which was presented in a flat pink plane, with the entire softly glistening 
length of both her outer and inner vaginal lips visible. 

"Now spread the cheeks, please," Vance said. 

She took the curving mounds of her naked buttocks in her hands and pulled 
them widely apart, feeling the cool air rush into her provocatively exposed 
genitals. 

Vance clicked, waited, pulled the picture out and waved it excitedly before 
her. God! God almighty! She was providing grist for a pornography shop! 
There was a woman - could it be her? - with an ass-cheek clamped in each 
hand and pulled so far apart that the brownish pink crevice between her 
fleshy buttocks was a strained, taut expanse of tender skin, and there was 
the hairless little ring of an anus - so opened from the stretching that she 
could see into it for half an inch - and her soft, full-lipped cunt 
protruding so far and spreading so wide that it seemed to be turned 
inside-out with several moistly gleaming inches of the pink vaginal walls 
visible. That was her! That exposure of womanly vagina in sufficient detail 
for a medical text was her! And, worst of all, she could see in the picture 
what she could now begin to feel so excitedly between her legs: her cunt was 
slick and wet. 

Her shamed blushing increased still more at her terrible awareness that she 
- despite herself - was getting some lascivious pleasure out of this 
photographic abuse. The warm moisture beginning to trickle so glisteningly 
between her legs gave her away. 

And Vance would be sure to take notice of it. "Now from a chair," Vance 
commanded. 

Rosemary sat on the arm of a chair, her legs dangling, feeling the air 
stimulatingly graze her moistened pussy. 

"Now on all fours." 

Rosemary obeyed, and the camera clicked. 

"Good. Now stay like that, but spread the lips with your fingers." And 
Rosemary brought one hand up between her legs, obediently stretching the 
hair-lined outer lips with two fingers. Again the camera clicked. Vance 
brought her a picture the center of which was consumed by a wide sparse 
curl-fringed crescent of rosy vaginal pink. 

"Now the last, up on my desk. That's right, on your back. Knees up. Legs 
wide, wide apart. Separate the lips nicely with your fingers. Good. Now 
stroke the clitoris so it gets nice and big. Come on, more! Good, good, very 
good, Now - see that letter opener next to you, the one with the wooden 
handle; Big, isn't it? That nice carved, Victorian wooden handle has - shall 
we say - been places most letter openers haven't been. You'll find a little 
knob at the side to disconnect the blade; do so, put the blade away, I don't 
want you to hurt yourself. Right, blade away. Now . .. stick it in." 

She hated this, all of it, the pictures that came out were too obscene, and 
Vance's lustfully building gaze and intentions were too demanding and 
possessive. She knew that he could, just by looking at her, realize how 
wantonly excited she was getting despite herself. And he could see her 
shame, too, he could see her violently flushing face though he kept it out 
of the horrible pictures. She grasped the long wooden handle in one hand 
and, using the fingers of the other, guided it slowly and reluctantly toward 
the fluted flowering opening of her vagina. The ornately carved shaft just 
touched the black hair-fringed, swollen lips. It was so cold! And hard, and 
unlubricated. She did not want anything like that inside of her. 

"Come on now, be a good girl!" Vance said. 

She teased the hair-lined lips of her reluctantly receiving cunt with the 
wooden shaft, getting used to its coldness, and then gritted her teeth 
tightly and pressed: the shaft slid just inside her wetly throbbing pussy. 
Rosemary started, groaning slightly. It didn't hurt her, it was just so hard 
and cold and such a strange feeling to find up her warmly moistened cunt. 
She pressed harder and the tiny elastic ring of her stretching vaginal 
opening admitted another one . . . two .. . three inches. She took her hand 
away from the handle and let it remain where it was clasped only by the 
resilient muscles of her tight little cunt. Her heart was beating so fast 
that the handle, sticking up in the air, quivered lewdly with each beat of 
her racing pulse. 

"Now, Rosemary, slide it in and out until it gets wet. Until you get good 
and wet. For I want that too to show on the photograph." 

Rosemary sunk the smooth, wooden shaft in another two inches, and then 
pulled it out, feeling the hard, foreign object ripple her tightly clinging 
vaginal flesh in little waves as it tugged with some difficulty outward. 
Then she pushed it in again to six inches and felt wild tingling sensations 
as the same tiny waves of flesh rippled up and down the whole length of her 
rapidly adjusting vagina. She began to pump impatiently faster, becoming 
excited, despite herself - and despite the obscene man standing three feet 
away with his camera poised. As she pumped, the sensations of fucking came 
to her, though this shaft was narrower and wood-hard, with little 
protrusions and indentations from the carving which grazed the walls of her 
cunt and caused a slight, bearable overtone of pain to mingle almost 
enjoyably with the pleasure. The secretions now gushing from her excited 
cunt smoothed the whole process, making a slight slurping sound as the 
handle slid in and out. She pumped still faster, forgetting herself, 
forgetting the purpose of this and swallowing even her shame, gyrating her 
full, firm-fleshed buttocks down against the desk in lewd little circles and 
clenching her tight cuntal muscle to speed the swiftly building approach of 
a climax. 

"Now stop!" Vance ordered. 

Rosemary, deeply panting, stopped only by an act of considerable will power. 
While Vance moved in still closer and the camera clicked. In a moment he 
held a picture before her nose of a headless woman laying naked on a desk 
with a strange carved wooden stick pruriently half-sunk into the wet hole 
between her wide splayed legs, the remainder of the stick a shiny glistening 
wet from the woman's aroused secretions. Even the surface of the mahogany 
desk between her legs was darkened with wetness. 

"We've made enough photographs," Vance said softly. "Thank you, Rosemary. I 
shall always treasure these." 

The unwillingly aroused young girl lay still on the desk in a haze of 
confusion and shame, the handle still obscenely embedded in her besieged 
vagina. Her near-climaxing vaginal muscles clenching and unclenching every 
few seconds. She'd been so close to a climax; she still breathed heavily and 
irregularly, and sweat formed all over her naked sun-bronzed body in little 
beads. 

Across the room, Vance removed his clothes. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Rosemary was so shamelessly aroused that she needed only to reach her hands 
down to her throbbing young cunt, make a few more stabs with the rounded 
wooden stick to have her climax. 

And Rosemary was so ashamed and confused that she never considered jumping 
off the desk, gathering her clothes, and running from the house. The 
dictatorial financial entrepreneur had abused her, humiliated her - and also 
wildly stimulated her - and in the few moments she was left to her own 
devices lying on her back on the desk she might have done anything. 

Vance, now undressed, seemed to realize this, for as soon as his clothes 
were off he wasted no time going straight for the desk and the nakedly 
hesitating young wife. 

Rosemary rolled her eyes in Vance's direction and then stopped short: that 
was Vance? Solid, sun-bronzed shoulders, narrow athlete's hips, bulging 
muscular legs - and rising from a patch of graying pubic hair between his 
narrow untanned hips ... a short fat little cock. 

No wonder he relied on others to do it, while he watched; no wonder he made 
films and all the rest of it. For his fully erected penis was only a scant 
four inches long - if even that. Undoubtedly it could satisfy a woman who 
was prepared sufficiently - my God, Rosemary thought, that's why he had me 
prod myself so long on the desk! - but the small thick cock just looked so 
ridiculously out-of-scale against his he-man frame. 

So this was why she'd never seen him take part in the group's orgiastic sex, 
never even seen him naked until now: for to see him so was almost laughable. 
And yet it wasn't! That short little cock combined with the knowledge of who 
Vance was and what extravagant sexual desires he had - was also terrifying. 
Somehow, this whole demeaning session with Vance up to and including this 
doom-filled minute was more obscene than anything Rosemary had previously 
been through. It was a nightmare, one she wished desperately she would wake 
up from. 

Yet she had to go through with it, and could only sigh in total despair. 

Vance moved up close to the desk and between her legs which were splayed 
wantonly off the sides; he misinterpreted the sigh as anxious desire. 

"Now we're going to do it, Rosemary," he said, coming onto the desk top with 
his knees and bending down over her voluptuously ripened body to fasten his 
teeth harshly into the painfully distending nipple of her heaving breast. 

Rosemary groaned in anguish, attempting to twist away from the sudden cruel 
abuse, but his hands - now traveling fast over her squirming thighs and hips 
- held her down tight. Vance's lips roamed wetly over the milk-white 
quivering mounds, pausing to suck with more gentleness at the pink stiffened 
buds at the ends, and this caused a blissful twitch which ran feather-like 
down to Rosemary's already stimulated vagina below. She did not want to 
notice it, - especially after the degrading business with the letter-opener 
- yet she was excited. Her firmly rounded buttocks began a slow impatient 
grinding and as she twisted them down against the desk she contacted her own 
secretions which had made the wood warm and slippery. 

"You are getting hot," Vance said in a half-moan as his lips traveled 
erotically over the soft sensitive parts of her pinioned body, his eyes now 
hard and fixed in the greed of his desire. 

Rosemary wanted to say no, to protest this comment that she was hot, but she 
kept silent for she didn't dare offend Vance or do anything which might 
prolong the whole humiliating experience. 

"I want you to do it like you've never done it before," he moaned. "I want 
to remember this. I want you to beg and scream for it." 

Rosemary lay frozen under the prodding of his abusive words. Yet their lewd 
overtones did faintly excite her, in her still half-aroused condition. She 
was fighting; she would not contradict Vance, but now she also fought 
secretly within herself against the final building surrender which Vance 
seemed to want. 

"Spread your legs wider, Rosemary, I'm going to come in now," he was already 
grinning in triumph above her. 

Trembling - in fear but also in unwilling lewd anticipation - she opened her 
full white thighs wider apart as commanded. Vance levered anxiously up over 
her, his arms stiff, his hands resting now on her smooth tanned shoulders. 
He lowered one hand down between their naked bodies and took his 
lust-thickened cock between his fingers to guide it forward, using the thick 
rubbery head to slowly separate the full, fleshy lips of the young wife's 
cunt. Rosemary turned her head to the side for she could not stand to watch, 
could not bear the sight of his penis touching her defensively open slit. 
She closed her eyes with a shudder as she felt the soft electrical contact 
against the sensitive fluted edges of her passion-slick cunt. She drew in 
her breath and held it for what seemed an eternity, holding it in fear, in 
mounting desire, not daring even to breathe. 

"Ooooooooh," she sighed as she felt now the beginning hard thick pressure 
against the tight elastic opening of her vagina. 

Vance grunted heatedly above her, and pushed. 

"Aaaaagh," she coughed, as the thick blunted tip slid through, stretching 
too suddenly the tight rubbery opening until Rosemary felt that her thighs 
were splitting apart from the expansive outward pressure. 

"Not so fast!" she screamed fearfully. "You're hurting me, you're hurting 
me!" She opened her dark flashing eyes and saw his lust-filled expression as 
he watched her impalement. He was killing her, and he was enjoying it! That 
little cock was abnormally thick and he knew it; he knew if he put it in so 
impatiently fast like that it hurt! Yet already Rosemary was adjusting to 
it; the thick blood-swollen head was through, indeed it was fully in; and 
the throbbing cock-shaft which her vaginal opening now tightly clutched was 
narrower than the monstrous head and more acceptable. As Vance hung 
motionless above her, now enjoying a slower penetration, Rosemary found her 
dilating vaginal walls beginning to respond to the heated contact with his 
lewdly thick instrument. She began to like it! 

"I'm sorry I screamed, Vance," she said, adding an insincere "darling." 

Her panting torturer advanced another excruciating third of an inch, his 
muscular frame trembling from the willpower it took to keep from sinking it 
suddenly into her. Yet he wanted to make her plead first and he knew that 
soon she would be ready to beg. She was already excited, from the obscene 
self-abuse he had put her through and from Vance's unexpectedly cruel entry 
of her cunt. 

"It's nice, Vance! Put it in farther, let me have more!" 

He rocked slightly above her, instead, pulling it out half an inch, then 
painfully sliding its thickness back into her warmly throbbing pussy. He 
increased the pitch of this, never letting more than the rubbery head of his 
cock inside, and he felt her flex and then relax her tight little ring of 
vaginal muscle in a growing pleasurable response to his tantalizing rocking. 

"Oooooooooh," she mewled. "Uuuuuuummmmmh." 

Suddenly the sadistic grin on Vance's face faded and a twisted expression of 
raw lust replaced it. He could stand it no more, watching this helpless 
voluptuous woman whom he had so often seen having relations with others 
spread-eagled desirously beneath him with the head of his cock disappearing 
into the rich raven-black hair of her waiting pussy. 

He had to fuck her - he had to - and quick! 

In one motion he fell forward, his muscular weight smashing her full firm 
breasts tightly back against her chest. He thrust his hips forward at the 
same time and his cock slid into her cuntal softness for the entire 
remainder of its short throbbing length. Vance grunted like a beast as his 
sperm-laden balls smacked into the upturned white cheeks of her tightly 
clenched ass, making it quiver against the desk top. 

"Oh God! Oh, ohhhhhhhh, take it easy!" she cried startled beneath him. 

It had been so fast and unexpected, and the thing was so damn thick! She 
really did feel filled, though in fact nearly half of her narrow, clasping 
vagina was still not reached. 

"Oooooh!" she cried. There wasn't one tiny ridge of pulsing skin on it that 
she could not feel as it pressed against the elastic walls of her tightly 
clinging vagina, encased in the warm moist sheath like a sword slicing 
cruelly into its victim's belly. 

He lay still for a moment, his face directly over hers. Rosemary, too, lay 
immobile, afraid to move for fear of the pain it might bring. Neither made a 
sound for a long period, and then she felt him begin to pump, jerking the 
hard thick penis out quickly and then slowly and teasingly burrowing it back 
in, the warm flesh of her cunt gripping the invading shaft and receding 
before it on the in-strokes in little quivering ripples. 

Above the obscene sound of naked flesh against flesh, Vance said, "Like it?" 

"Yes," she answered quietly, afraid to offend him, for in fact she still 
felt fearfully split-open throughout her entire trembling belly. 

"Beg, then," he hissed with a coldness Rosemary had never before heard from 
Vance. 

"What?" 

"BEG, I said," he repeated with cruel annoyed arrogance. 

"I ... I can't," she whimpered beneath him. What did the bastard want? He 
had her, pitifully skewered by his strange lewd thickness; and he had just 
made a small collection of full color photographs showing her in various 
positions of degenerate abuse; what more did he want? 

"Beg me to fuck you. Now!" the older man said, at the same time jerking his 
short hard penis nearly all the way out and then immediately jamming it back 
in. 

"Oooooh, God, don't, don't, I can't," she fought with the last ounce of 
resistance she could find. Sure she wanted to get out of the circle, but she 
was not going to sell herself totally to him. Wasn't she allowed any last 
little bit of pride although he had possessed her body? 

"Do what I say," he commanded, his fingers digging cruelly into her soft 
sloping shoulders. 

"Oh, all right," she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Do it to me. Have 
me. Take me any way you want me!" 

"That's not enough. Say fuck me," he insisted. 

"Oh, fuck me!" She was so angry she felt ready to burst. "Fuck me, fuck me, 
FUCK me!" she screamed through her trembling, tightly drawn lips, shamed 
tears forming in her deep dark eyes as she spat out the obscene words. There 
was really nothing more she could give now. The sex-group leader had the 
pictures, he was fucking her, he could determine just when and how she got 
out of the group; cruel, sadistically inclined Vance had seen and commanded 
every inch of her defenseless body and moreover he was making her beg for 
it. What a whore she was! Really, what a whore! 

Vance recognized the departure of the last ounce of resistance from the 
sobbing Rosemary and he pressed his lips down wetly on hers, thrusting his 
tongue down her throat as he began a slow, regular rocking motion between 
her white, wide-spread thighs. He could feel her narrow vagina widening with 
each stroke as she groaned in helpless defeat beneath him, her long black 
hair flailing back and forth on the hard surface of his desk. She was like a 
live insect being pierced by the collector's pin. Her cuntal softness was so 
tight and resilient that he could scarcely believe it - and yet, he was 
personally responsible for its being in such good condition, he had 
carefully kept the more brutal, and more largely endowed, circle members 
away from her. 

In the entire year's activities she had been fucked a scant twenty times, 
for Vance had always seen that men went to her for oral satisfaction, and 
that the two girls in the circle who were avowed lesbians often came to 
Rosemary and covered her unoccupied and exposed pussy with their licking 
tongues. He'd saved her, all right. Though she did not know it, he'd saved 
her. For himself! Yes, how often had he looked forward to this day when at 
long last he could have her all to himself, unobserved, alone, to fuck her 
resiliently grasping cunt! In his entire life no girl had ever appealed to 
him so much as the voluptuous, dark-haired Rosemary. 

The naked young wife began involuntarily to react. There was no longer any 
shred of a reason to fight the lewd flames of desire pulsing through her 
veins. She had lost the small points of battle with him and even the thought 
of the coming total surrender before him, and of the obscene photographs he 
had made, now sent lewd chills running along the base of her spine as she 
reacted to the slow steady rhythm of Vance's hard, stiffened penis tunneling 
wetly into her. 

Her whole nakedly curvaceous body writhed and flailed beneath him and she 
groaned now incessantly up into the moist cavern of his mouth, seizing a 
moment when his prodding tongue relaxed to insert her own deep into his hot 
mouth. Low hums of servile acceptance - and a still unquenched, unbearable 
desire - came from deep in her heaving chest, her face twisted with lust, 
her mouth working, veins on her neck straining out, nostrils flared, a light 
sweat breaking out over her entire impassioned body. 

Vance lowered both hands down the sides of her body and slipped them under 
her moving, soft white ass cheeks, taking one firmly in each hand. He 
recalled how often he had seen her phenomenal buttocks working, clenching 
and unclenching, in quickening response to the hard lustful thrusts of 
others. And now it was doing it for him! This day was a dream, really, a 
gift of providence! He felt her smooth-fleshed buttocks oozing around his 
trembling fingers as he clenched them more tightly, pulling her cuntal split 
up harder to him, feeling her long full thighs flaring backward a little 
more so that her tight wet hole flowered to receive his impaling member 
without resistance. 

Rosemary no longer had any thought but the delicious sensation of lying 
beneath this man who was fucking her against her will and giving back to him 
the pleasure he was giving her. The cords in her neck and thighs stood out 
beneath the sun-bronzed skin as she wantonly writhed beneath him in the 
intensity of her feeling. Her eyes were closed and her tongue worked into 
his mouth as small velvety sounds of pleasure escaped wetly from deep in her 
throat. Her hips gyrated in practiced, lust-inciting, obscene circles around 
his throbbing hardness as she tightened and loosened her buttocks and cuntal 
muscle to heighten the feeling. 

Vance could feel his churning balls slapping against the unprotected crevice 
of her eagerly upturned buttocks. The noise of this slapping, her animal 
mewls, and the lewd sound of fucking itself, filled the room. He grinned 
above her at the thought of further humiliation, sliding his fingers down 
over the taut, rounded skin of her ass-cheeks where the buttocks separated 
until he found the small puckered anus nestled so defenselessly below. It 
was warm and rubbery, and he felt it expanding and contracting with the 
motions of her heatedly gyrating buttocks pressing against his loins. That 
her small pink anus was to this day unviolated was also, he reflected, 
thanks to him. If only Rosemary knew how much he had protected her! How much 
he had saved her for himself! He pushed his extended middle finger against 
her tiny rectal opening with a sudden quick movement, feeling the soft 
rubbery flesh yield slightly before his attack. 

"Aaaaaagh!" she gasped at this unexpected outrage against her defenseless 
little anus. 

He thrust harder, taking a pleasure in hearing her mewls of protest. 

"Ooooooooh!" she groaned louder this time. But there was no respite. 

He worked his finger around inside relentlessly, stretching the rubbery 
softness wider and wider as he ground into her. His extended middle finger 
was in past the first knuckle and he slid the adjacent finger in as well, 
feeling the tight resistance now give way completely as he prodded into the 
soft warm depths of her rectum. 

The deep groans coming from her chest changed into whimpers of pain for a 
moment and then subsided into the more familiar mewls of pleasure as her 
virginal anus became slowly accustomed to the strange, unnatural invasion. 

The swap group leader felt triumphant as he felt her begin slowly screwing 
her rectum back on his sodomizing fingers as he probed them methodically 
around the warm rubbery depths. She was impaled between his thick throbbing 
cock in her vagina and his fingers shoved unrelentingly up inside her 
rectum. And now, moaning out her pleasure beneath him, she began squirming 
and twisting her hips in abandonment under the double ravishment of her 
excited loins. 

He moved his free hand up over the curvature of her smoothly rounded ass to 
where his cock was pistoning in and out of her cunt. There he saw the soft 
black hair-lined folds of pussy flesh clasping tight to his impaling white 
cock, and he could sense their softness pulling and giving with each long 
hard thrust into her. He fondled the flaring lips of her vagina where he 
entered her, bringing softer moans of pleasure from her mouth, and at the 
same instant he felt the ever-widening passage of her wetly throbbing vagina 
flowering in the desire to swallow and consume his thick pole of 
lust-hardened flesh. He quickened his thrusts as she thrashed her naked 
young body passionately beneath him. She was ready to cum, he well knew, and 
her long lithe legs jerked up on either side of his hips while her ankles 
locked in a death grip around his back. He ripped his fingers from her 
rectum, making a wet gushing sound, and pressed her buttocks up tightly and 
flatly to him, the plane of her throbbing pink vagina now wide-open to the 
staccato thrusts of his impaling cock. 

"Uuuummmmhhhh, oooooooooh," she mewled frantically beneath him. 
"Uuuuuummmmhhhh." Her face was contorted into a mask of wild straining lust 
as Vance grunted and groaned and pumped still faster, and suddenly she 
shivered electrically beneath him. 

"Oh God!" Rosemary said, "I'm cumming. Oooooohhh God, I'm cumming. Cumming! 
Ooooooooh! Uuuuuuuuuummmhh!" 

Vance could feel her wildly orgasming cunt open still more around him as 
warm torrents of her secretions flooded out around his pistoning cock which 
was thrusting faster, his balls smacking her loudly each time. He wanted to 
remember this, to remember Rosemary this way, and he savored this sudden 
torrent of climaxing wetness and his own building passion. Her breath came 
in short desperate gasps as she tightened the lips of her cunt hungrily 
around his cock, jerking out the final throes of her orgasm. 

Suddenly Vance felt his own white hot sperm gush into her soft quivering 
belly in wildly jetting pulses, and he too groaned, their orgasmic juices 
mingling inside the young wife in a wet pool of passionate lust as each 
continued spasmodically twitching their hips, grinding out the last particle 
of delicious feeling. 

Then the depleted young woman went limp as a fish, her long tanned legs 
splayed out on the desk, her wavy black hair disheveled, her eyes clenched 
tightly shut. Vance withdrew his shrunken shaft of male flesh and watched 
the girl whom he had subdued lying lifelessly on the desk with her matted 
pussy mound and the desk under her legs wet from their cum. He savored the 
spectacle of his lewd white sperm seeping from her open vagina. An idea 
occurred to him: he sprang off the desk, grabbed his camera, and shot a 
close-up of Rosemary's cum-covered cunt, to record for all time this imprint 
of his passion. And he was being honest - there was no head in the picture. 
Only Vance himself would know - know so well - the obscene picture was of 
Rosemary. Of Rosemary possessed at last! 

Another thought occurred to Vance. Though he'd given it good to Rosemary, he 
knew he didn't possess that much to give. The innermost half of her vagina 
still remained forever untouched by him. A smile played across his lips. 

He rang a bell at his side. 

Rosemary, still splayed out in exhaustion on the desk, started at the sound 
of the bell. What was it for? she wondered; and she was about to sit up on 
the desk but it was already too late. For Clark - Vance's servant - had 
already entered the room in response to the bell. 

Clark was an enormous, crude, semi-idiot. He glanced first at Vance, and 
then at the desk - and the sight of the voluptuously naked brunette laying 
there with her thighs spread glisteningly apart captivated him. Clark 
advanced across the room toward Rosemary, who raised her eyes to him in 
abject terror. The idiot walked in a half-crouching position toward the 
desk, his eyes hungrily drinking in the salacious spectacle of the naked, 
frightened girl, a hard bulge in his straining pants clearly announcing the 
state of his desire. 

"VANCE! VANCE!" Rosemary screamed at the top of her lungs, well aware now 
what this lust-incited idiot would proceed to do. She was terrified. She had 
never bargained for anything like this. "GET HIM AWAY!" 

"Easy, Rosemary," Vance said. "He's harmless. He's under my control." A 
flicker of humor played across his eyes. 

"Vance, I won't stand for it! We didn't agree to this! Didn't I give you 
what you wanted?" 

"You did." Vance reflected. "You more than gave it to me. Exceeded my 
wildest expectations." 

"Then get this ugly bastard away!" 

Clark, hunching ever-closer to the desk, jerked when he heard Rosemary say 
"ugly bastard." It had been the wrong thing to say. Clark had feelings, and 
they had just been hurt. Had Vance not been present in the room as a 
restraining factor, Clark would have now raped the proud little bitch in as 
brutal and unfeeling a fashion as it was in his power to do. 

"Think it over, Rosemary," Vance said, carefully pulling on his trousers. He 
proceeded to button his shirt and re-tie his tie, taking occasional glances 
at her and at Clark who hovered hungrily over her. 

"Clark," Vance said, "take off your clothes. Show the girl what you've got. 
Maybe then she will become more agreeable!" 

The huge idiot dropped his trousers and eagerly peeled off his underpants, 
and to Rosemary it seemed he had a cock the size of a horse's! It jerked 
menacingly upward with his pulse, straight upward toward the frightened 
girl, who watched in frozen, wide-eyed terror. 

"Now what do you say?" chided Vance. 

So this is the depraved sort of thing that turned Vance on, Rosemary thought 
despite her terror. Watching others do it turned him on, because he did not 
have much to do it with himself. Well she would foil his little game. She 
would under no circumstances let herself be touched by that big idiot Clark. 
His cock was enormous, and the man himself so thoroughly ugly! So 
frightening! It was just so unfair of Vance, this new, obscene demand. 

"Get him away, Vance," Rosemary said. "You've gotten what you wanted. Now 
give me the films, and I'll go." She twisted on the slippery desk, coming to 
a sitting position on the end most distant from Clark, trembling from fear 
and because her naked body was cold. 

"Rosemary, my dear," Vance said calmly, "you have to consider the feelings 
of others. You see that Clark likes you. As a special favor to me, let him 
fuck you. Then you'll be out of the circle. Then I'll give you the films." 

It was too much for Rosemary. Something in her mind snapped at that last. 
She had been debased to such an extent already in this room, and now this 
slobbering hulk of a moron was breathing just two feet away from her with 
his big horse-prick standing up lustfully in front of him. She wanted 
desperately to get out of the circle; so desperately, she had until now, 
done everything Vance had asked of her. She'd made herself a whore! She'd 
begged for it, she'd groaned and screamed and begged for it, she'd given him 
back every little lewd jerk he'd given her. But to now take this monstrous, 
foul-smelling Clark? No! No, never under any circumstances! She'd heard of 
girls who fucked animals, but she was not one of them. And that's what Clark 
was - as bestial in his sex urges as an animal! 

Rosemary, sitting on the edge of the desk and crying, trembled still more. 
Vance's demand had so enraged her sense of justice that once again she was 
sunk in her thoughts to the basic, fundamental core of her being - which was 
so strong she could count on it to pull her out. She was at absolute zero 
now. She had to act. 

As Clark slobbered nearby, and as Vance stood across the room with his 
confident, possessive smile - certain that Rosemary was very near to 
capitulating and that it was only a matter of time - Rosemary herself 
slowly, imperceptibly shifted her weight on the edge of the desk. It took 
several motions, but then she was ready to spring. She tensed her arms, took 
a deep breath. 

She sprang! 

Clark seemed to jerk at the sudden motion, and to lumber slowly after her, 
but of this she was not sure for her back was to him and Vance as she 
scurried naked around the room scooping up her clothes. She'd done it! She'd 
almost done it! Finding her panties and crumpling them under her arm with 
the rest of her clothes she shot like a bolt straight for the study door - 
wondering "What did I forget? What did I forget? No time to put on the 
clothes, don't worry about that. But what did I forget?" 

Holy Christ! The car keys! In the purse! 

She shot back into the room. And Clark lunged at her, his fingertips just 
grazing her nakedly rounded buttocks as she jumped away and Clark crashed 
flat on his face on the floor with a pained groan. Rosemary ran the few 
remaining steps to her purse, picked it up and started once again for the 
door. She cast one quick look at Vance and saw that he was laughing, the 
bastard! 

Laughing! She would never forgive him for that! And moreover he was watching 
her nakedly fleeing body, watching her firmly jiggling buttocks flex and 
unflex as she ran, watching her full, ripened breasts bounce in uncontrolled 
abandon. She had no choice but to run naked and he - the bastard - was 
enjoying watching her! 

She leaped over Clark - who was up on his knees now - and flew out of the 
study already fumbling in her purse for the keys. She found the door out of 
the mansion and emerged naked, clutching her clothes and purse, into the 
open air. 

She slid into the car, her eyes recording the drop-off at her side, the 
waves pounding on merciless rocks a hundred feet below, and though she 
jammed the keys in the ignition she did not immediately start the car. She 
had to drive away, and very soon, but to do so she had to be in control of 
herself. Desperate as she was, she had no desire to fly off that cliff. Take 
care, her mind warned her. Which gear is the car in? Neutral, good. Now 
start. Now carefully, very carefully, reverse . . . , 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Run! Run! She could not drive any too fast from the situation! She floored 
the accelerator on the straightaway, down-shifted to squeal around the 
curves, and then floored it once more, watching the white lines blink by at 
her side and feeling that each line gained brought her nearer to safety. Was 
Clark following her? 

She glanced over her shoulder. The road was empty in both directions. 

She was safe so far. Yet she knew very well what would happen if he ever 
caught her - and she would sooner spring over the cliff than submit to that 
brute. Clark! Now she knew where she'd seen him before, why he looked 
vaguely familiar. She'd never seen him as a servant at Vance's before. 
But... in the films! Yes, she'd seen several at the parties which featured a 
man with an abnormally large penis and a rather hulking manner of moving 
about - Clark. Vance must simply have located the film's actor, and then 
hired him for his own purposes - such as to give her twice as much as she 
could take. She would not submit to him; no, she would sooner die than fuck 
him. 

Rosemary sped on, yet her mind raced faster than the car - she had covered 
little more than a mile. At least right now she did not seem to be followed 
- in fact, the road was devoid of all traffic. And that was her luck for she 
was still naked. She pulled out at a scenic turn-off which hung directly at 
the cliffs edge, and hastily pulled her dress over her body, skipping the 
underwear in her haste, just to cover herself. Then - continually watching 
for traffic - she tugged on her panties, put on her shoes, and even managed 
beneath the dress to force her full supple breasts into her brassiere. 

There! Though no one had seen her naked, she had felt obscene every moment, 
and now - though still there was no one to see her - she felt clean. She 
remained a few brief seconds staring down at the large waves which smashed 
onto the rocks at the base of the cliff. The tide was coming in and each 
wave seemed bigger than the last. 

The water shattered into a million fragments just as it had at Vance's, yet 
watching this did not give her a sense of calm or peace but instead 
aggravated her awareness of the hell she'd just lived through. And she was 
not now that far away from Vance's - less than two miles. 

Again she spun out onto the road. 

Now there was traffic; but after several more miles of driving she realized 
she was definitely not being followed. No, if anyone had wanted to catch 
her, by now - in Vance's big cars - they would have. She heaved an enormous 
sigh and eased the pressure of her right foot on the accelerator, slowing 
the Porsche to a safer speed. God had that been a close call! But - she kept 
repeating to herself - she made it, she made it, she was home free. 

Actually she had to. hand it to Vance. Following her would not have been his 
style. Sadistic bastard though he was, he never used physical force to 
achieve his ends. He used only psychological force; and of course liquor and 
drugs. Drugs - the man seemed to know as much about them as a pharmacist; 
most of the things he used as aphrodisiacs were probably only tranquilizers 
- inhibition-dullers - but they certainly did work. Rosemary knew, all 
right; she'd had them several times, at the group parties, and never 
voluntarily. Accepting any drink at Vance's meant risking accepting a drug 
as well. Somehow this bit of unfairness was not covered by the club's rules: 
Vance used the drugs to program the activities he wanted. 

Rosemary kept driving - south, away from where she lived - to clear her 
mind. 

The Pacific was beautiful, with such a purity to the wild coast, whose cold 
water you could not swim in; the coast and the mountains, the redwoods and 
pastures and orchards, and San Francisco nearby - these things she had 
loved. They had been a large part of her life with Kevin - the Sunday 
drives, the evening walks after he came home from work, the spins into the 
city. She was so used to thinking about the past when thinking about her 
life, because the present, minus Kevin, was so empty, just a matter of her 
job, holding the house together, and waiting... A period of limbo. And for 
fun, for relaxation? Nothing whatsoever. This was a void in her life; a void 
into which had crept the horrible aberration of the circle. 

And now there was the future, too; it would soon all take place again, her 
life, the things she had waited for, the things she had placed in cold 
storage for the duration of Kevin's military stint. The future; the bright, 
fresh future. Only the group marred the prospect, and she decided not to let 
that worry her to the point of spoiling her happiness. She would get out, 
somehow; that's all there was to it! 

She spun along watching the sun reflecting orange in the car's hood, the 
blue-green Pacific with its gulls and occasional freighters, the precipitous 
coast clinging to the land at the point where the lush, manicured green 
became rock. The beautiful scenery made her feel better. She could think 
now. These were the possibilities, she said to herself, feeling rational; 
these were the ways open to her to proceed. 

First, she could simply never go back to any circle parties. Then Vance 
would give the films to her friends, copy them and distribute them all over 
the area. They would make their way - the milder ones, the ones where she 
was not actually fucking - into the San Francisco skin-flick houses. Kevin 
would find out.. . and her life would never be the same. 

Then, of course, she could just tell Kevin, tell him now by mail, perhaps. 
But the shame would be just too great. Even if they moved out of the state 
to start a new life somewhere, things between them could never be the same 
again. This alternative, too, was unacceptable. 

The idea she liked the best was to call the police. She turned that idea 
over, watching a group of gulls flutter down onto the top of a large rock 
far out in the water. Yet this idea too was no good: the police in Vance's 
small community would consider him a solid upright citizen, and any little 
problems could be eased by money. Vance could always say Rosemary was a 
disgruntled mistress making up stories. Even if she were to lead the police 
into the film room, what, really, would that prove? 

There were the more violent alternatives, too, of course. Violence was 
foreign to Rosemary, but she wanted to consider every conceivable 
possibility now, to know just where she stood. She could . .. well, hire . 
.. someone to kill Vance. Or she could commit suicide herself. Unacceptable 
... all of them unacceptable. Which brought her back to where she started - 
either continue to submit to Vance's will in the hope he would let her out, 
the first sordid duty being to be raped by Clark - or find new members. 

New members! Two, no less. And she simply didn't know anyone, apart from 
those actually in the circle, who would do something like that. It was 
really hopeless, she told herself. Yet... she would find a way. She would 
think it through another time when she would be fresher - perhaps she could 
find someone to talk it over with - and she would find a way. That's all 
there was to it. And for now, she must relax. 

Though she'd arrived at no course of action, she still felt eased. The 
awareness of all the miles she'd now covered made her feel better, actually 
happy. The sun hung at her side, a giant hot-orange ball with its lower edge 
just ready to drop into the ocean. 

Her stomach felt like a bottomless pit; she turned off the coast road to 
drive into Santa Cruz, where she found a pizza parlor and went inside. She 
stopped there because it was the first restaurant she saw, but the choice 
was fortunate. The man dressed in Roaring Twenties fashion tending the 
player piano, the happy crowd sitting at the long wooden benches, the 
waitresses making their way through the noisy, merry room holding five beers 
in a hand - these things helped her to retain, to bolster, the peace of mind 
she'd attained on the drive. 

Rosemary consumed one-and-a-half pizzas by herself, and the spare half she 
gave away on an impulse to the waiter sitting at the piano. Rosemary had a 
good heart. She would never have fallen into the circle if others had been 
so decent as she. She was a girl who cried over injured birds and animals, 
who loved her husband and would never do a dishonest thing. She also knew 
how to laugh and enjoy her surroundings in a spontaneous way. She was a good 
person, thoroughly sound and likeable, and full of life. Full of life for 
one man. 

She ordered a beer, and the waitress brought her a big, foamy mug. She 
tipped it and got froth on her lips, which made her laugh, then leaned back 
and watched the crowd, some of which was dancing around the piano now, the 
others sitting and drinking, eating, joking. The atmosphere was smoky and 
loud and just about ideal for Rosemary's present frame of mind. She finished 
the mug and ordered another, again leaning back and drinking in the 
cheerfulness. She turned down an offer to dance. No, no thank you; she was 
friendly but aloof, saving herself for Kevin. She would attempt to enjoy 
life in the meantime, in innocent ways like this, so that the self she saved 
for him would be interesting. She ordered a third beer, drinking it nearly 
in one tilt of the mug, and then she walked out. 

For someone who could not take much liquor, three large beers represented a 
lot of alcohol to Rosemary. Yet, she was walking straight and she found her 
car, started it, and drove away in a normal enough fashion. She felt as 
though she were floating on a cloud, high above all concerns, buoyed up by 
the music and laughter and beer she had shared. Tonight she would write a 
long letter to Kevin and tell him how happy she was that he would be coming 
home so soon. She wrote Kevin nearly every night anyway, but tonight would 
be something special, a long and intimate letter to help him get through his 
remaining months in Vietnam. 

Thank God he was not actually on the front; he risked terrorist bombs and 
sporadic violence, but only from the relative security of Saigon. He did not 
write much to her about his present life. He would be hated there, by many 
of the people on the street; and he would be approached by others offering 
him everything from black-market money to drugs and ... and girls. This 
bothered her, the girls; he must, after all this time, have had something to 
do with them. Yet Rosemary was mature enough not to begrudge him an 
occasional prostitute if it made his lot easier ... 

She drove northwards, directly toward home and the letter she would write to 
Kevin, skipping the coast road this time because it would be too slow to say 
nothing of dark. She drove at a safe speed and in her caution hugged a 
little too close to the curb. Saratoga, San Jose, Sunnyvale, Mountain View, 
Palo Alto ticked off one by one. She was about to turn off on the smaller 
road which would take her to Redwood City, when she noticed a drive-in 
theater which was playing a comedy. 

That she could use, all right. Something funny. It would put her in a good 
mood to write to Kevin. To be honest with herself, she did not look forward 
anyway to the lonely, dark drive home on the small road she must take, nor 
did she look forward to spending any more time than necessary in the lonely 
house. For time there meant more opportunities to think once more of the 
mess she was in. 

She pulled in the drive-in, paid her money, found a place about twenty rows 
back and parked. They were showing a cartoon before the movie started - that 
was all right with her, too. With three beers under her belt most anything 
was all right. 

She went quickly into the refreshment stand to get two more beers, to keep 
her in the rather deliciously potted state she was in now. But she would be 
careful not to get so drunk that she would pass out or be unable to drive. 

Walking back from the refreshment stand she thought the deep brown colored 
Cadillac parked next to her car looked familiar. That was Sally and Frank 
Adams' car! She hadn't noticed it was theirs when she'd pulled in beside it. 
Sally and Frank Adams - what a coincidence! Yet she couldn't be sure; the 
car was brown and had a San Francisco license, just like their car - but it 
was too dark inside to recognize the faces. Rosemary walked past without 
pausing. She slid into her own car, behind the steering wheel, balancing the 
beers carefully on the glove compartment lid. 

The cartoon, advertisements, and previews ended, and the movie began. 

What if that was really the Adams' car? They were nice people, decent enough 
to Rosemary that she could consider them friends. They were circle members, 
true, but at this instant that is precisely what interested Rosemary about 
them, the fact that they were circle members as well as friends. They might 
be able to give her some advice about how to get out of the circle. Yet... 
she didn't know if it was them; all she could see was two heads in the front 
seat, and two more heads in the back. The prospect that it might really be a 
stranger's car kept her from going over and saying hello to them. 

The movie was humorous in a mediocre sort of way. After about twenty minutes 
of it the driver's door of the Cadillac popped open and a man emerged who 
walked toward the refreshment stand. He sure looked like Frank! She would 
wait until he came back to be sure. 

Frank Adams came back balancing a tray full of food and drinks and spotted 
Rosemary sitting in her car, his face breaking into a smile. He raised his 
free hand, forefinger extended, to say "one minute," and he handed the tray 
into his own car. 

Then he came over to Rosemary's; she slid to his side and rolled down the 
window. 

"Rosemary, what are you doing here? Are you checking up on us?!" he joked. 

"Hi, Frank. No, I came to watch this silly movie. Saw it when I was driving 
past and thought 'why not'?" 

"Do you want to join us for a drink?" 

"Well, maybe. To tell the truth I've had a bit already." 

"Then why not have a bit more? Sally's in there, and also Benny and Elaine." 

Rosemary hesitated. "Circle members?" she asked. 

"That's right," Frank said, "they're new circle members. As I recall, 
they've been to only a couple of parties. Hey, why the long face?" He 
paused, studying Rosemary. "That's not a circle party we're having over 
there!" he continued. "We're here to see the movie and consume a bit of 
alcohol. The main thing for Sally and me, actually, is getting out of our 
child-infested house into the fresh air. Left the whole confounded mess in 
the acne covered hands of a baby sitter!" He glanced at Rosemary's worried 
face, his own beginning to wear a look of sympathy in response. "Come on, 
Rosemary, have a drink with us," he concluded. 

"O.K., Frank," she said at last. 

With a total of four beers now under her belt, she did not need anything 
more to drink. But she needed a friend. She needed friends like Frank and 
Sally Adams - who as circle members could understand what she was talking 
about - yet who as normal, friendly human beings could also sympathize with 
her. 

As she locked up her car and followed Frank over to the Adams' automobile, 
she knew she could confide in Sally and Frank Adams, that she could tell 
them about her problem and get advice from them. She had to laugh at Sally's 
startled expression when she recognized Rosemary at the car window. 

"Rosemary! Do come in!" 

Sally was in an exuberant mood, obviously loosened up by the alcohol and 
happy to see Rosemary. The young brunette entered the car and sat in the 
front, while Frank got in the driver's seat and Sally sat between them. 

"Rosemary White, this is Elaine Simson and Benny . .. Benny . .." 

"Johnson," the man supplied, extending his hand across the large interior of 
the Cadillac toward Rosemary. 

"They're both new circle members," Sally added. Frank gave her a eluding 
look - he knew, as Sally did not, that for some reason Rosemary now had 
something against the circle and circle members. Yet Sally in her ignorance 
went on. "Elaine's been to - let's see . . . two parties ..." 

"Yes, two," said Elaine, blushing a deep, bright red. 

"And Benny's been to ... " "One. Just one," supplied Benny. "That's where I 
met Elaine," he added with a slight leer. 

Elaine squirmed in her seat and blushed still more. She looked twenty years 
old, if even that. She was blonde, slender, and attractive except for a 
loneliness which came through her eyes. Rosemary felt sorry for the poor 
girl, and wondered how Elaine had gotten into the circle. Was it, perhaps, 
through the very same trap Rosemary herself had fallen into? 

"I'm glad to meet you all," Rosemary said. 

"And now for some drinks!" Frank broke in, sensing the tenseness in the car 
and trying to change it. "I've brought back some more Cokes for the rum," he 
said. "And we've also got a good supply of gin and tonic. What do you take, 
Rosemary?" 

"Rum and Coke's fine," she said. 

Frank poured a drink into a paper cup and handed it across to her. He 
whispered something to Sally, in response to which Sally also turned to 
Rosemary with a look of inquiry. Frank turned up the volume of the speaker 
hanging on the window, to prevent the conversation which would follow from 
reaching the ears of the couple in the back seat. Then both he and Sally 
turned their attention to Rosemary. 

"What is it, dear?" Sally asked. 

Sally was nearly ten years older than Rosemary, and felt motherly toward 
her. This feeling was perhaps heightened by her lesbian tendencies - at 
several parties she'd had oral sex with Rosemary. Frank himself had never 
touched the lonely wife. 

Rosemary consumed several swallows of her drink before answering. Then she 
said: "I don't know what I'm going to do. I'm at my wit's end. Do you know 
what happened this afternoon?" They didn't. "Vance -Vance - had me." 

"Vance!" both Sally and Frank said in shock. 

"Yes, Vance! And .. . and .. . afterwards, he wanted Clark also to ... to 
have me." 

"Who's Clark?" asked Frank. 

Sally answered: "He's that big lumpjaw from the films. Doesn't have a brain 
in his head. Vance just hired him." 

"My God!" said Frank. "And did you ..." 

"No," Rosemary said, "I ran away! I haven't been home since. Really, I'm at 
my wit's end." She paused and took more of her drink. 

"Rosemary," Frank said, "why did Vance approach you, Vance of all people?" 

"I asked him if I could get out of the circle. He said I could if I... if 
I... " "You poor dear," Sally broke in, pulling the sobbing Rosemary to her 
shoulder. 

Rosemary went on. "You see, I got a telegram today. Kevin is coming home. 
Kevin - my husband. You don't know him. But he's "very good, and I love him, 
and I want to be clean for him ..." She broke down completely, sobbing onto 
Sally's shoulder, and everyone took a drink. Frank filled the cups. 

"Yes, that's a problem, all right," he said. "Getting out. Wait - maybe 
Sally and I could find a new member for you!" 

"Two new members," Rosemary corrected. 

Sally broke in: "We might be able to. But it would take months. It's such a 
delicate matter, really - finding them, sounding them out, preparing them to 
come to a party in a state of willingness - for if anything goes wrong they 
will spill the whole pot of beans. And then we are all in very big trouble. 
The police would be the least of it. Vance would be the trouble - what he 
would do to us all, out of hate, if we messed up his circle for him." 

"When's Kevin coming home?" Frank asked. 

"In three months. But I want to be out now. Now!" Rosemary sobbed. 

"You poor dear," Sally said, stroking her hair. 

"It's really an unfortunate business, this circle," Frank said reflectively, 
filling the cups again up to the brim. Everyone was now in a state of 
drunken melancholy. "Why do people come into it? Frustration, that's why. 
And society - which is schizophrenic and pushes everything into 
compartments. Sex, instead of being worked into a whole life, is a 
compartment. Sally and I felt the need for it, and we wanted to get out of 
the house and away from the kids a bit. If we had just had friends, there 
would have been no problem. But no, instead we had to go out of the house 
and seek these specialized friends. Sex friends. It's a special situation 
for Sally and I, for we both like girls ..." 

"Shut- up, you old whore!" Sally broke in. 

"It's true. And we do get some satisfaction in the circle. But still it's 
sad there have to be circles, instead of just friends and wholesome, well 
rounded lives." 

"You said it!" said Rosemary, sipping again on her drink. She was nearly to 
the point of passing out, stone drunk. 

"And there are people who really do thrive on things like the circle," Frank 
continued. "Vance is one, of course." He moved closer to the girls and added 
in a whisper: "And so is that Benny in the back seat. I'm really sorry we 
asked him to come along tonight. I've decided I just don't like the 
bastard!" 

They all stared bleary-eyed toward the screen where the comedy played on. 
Everyone was drunk. And Rosemary felt herself becoming increasingly 
depressed as she realized that her friends weren't going to be able to help 
her. Sally had said it would take months for them to find substitutes for 
her, and they knew many more likely subjects than she did. 

Rosemary couldn't think of a single one! It all boiled down to the fact that 
there was absolutely no one to help her but herself! 

"Hey ... Where you going?" Frank slurred as she began to pull from the seat. 

Rosemary opened the side door and stepped out, leaving Frank and Sally 
looking startled at her. 

"I - I don't feel to well. I think I'll just go home," she said from behind 
the still open door. 

"God, girl, I don't know that you should drive in this condition," Frank 
said. "Come back in and watch the movie a while. Better if you sober up a 
bit first." 

"No, I'm fine," she forced a laugh and gently closed the door, waving at 
them in a confident way as she slipped back to her own car. 

She crawled behind the wheel and closed the door, backing the car out 
immediately before they could come after her. The car slid a bit in the 
loose gravel as she turned but she righted it quickly out of sheer 
desperation to be away from there. All she wanted at this point was to go 
home and have another few drinks until she finally forgot her horrible 
situation. How could she enjoy a comedy at this point? To hell with the 
movie! 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

The sun burned through the puffs of morning mist at about ten, leaving the 
sky a fresh washed cloudless blue. Several days had passed, and each of them 
had been as pleasant in appearance as this one. Since her submission to 
Vance, Rosemary had driven to her job each morning, sat in her plush, 
colorful receptionist's area, and looked pretty. She had also tried to look 
happy, to put a friendly ring in her voice on the phone, and to help people 
who came through the door find their destination instead of - as did some 
receptionists - hindering them. 

Now it was Friday and, already as she sat at home over lunch, her job done, 
the weekend stretched before her. Beautiful, yes - just a glance out the 
window confirmed that; but. . . but. . . there would be all of those chances 
to think. All those lonely moments bouncing around this house filled with 
memories of Kevin. 

And - worst of all - there would be the circle party that was held regularly 
each Saturday night. 

It was enough to put Rosemary into the depths of despair. 

The telephone rang, from way at the other end of the house, and Rosemary 
sprang up from her lunch to run for it. 

"Hello, Rosemary," said the voice, "this is Linda." 

"Linda? Rosemary wondered. Was there a Linda in the circle? Rosemary said 
"Yes?" in her receptionist's tone. 

"Linda Kingsby," the voice went on. 

"Oh, Linda!" said Rosemary, now recognizing her cousin's voice. "How are 
you, dear? How's the school break?" 

"Just fine, Rosemary," Linda said. 

"Did you hear Kevin's coming back?" asked Rosemary. 

"Yes, we just heard. We're happy for you." Linda was a second cousin on 
Rosemary's mother's side, and had seen Kevin only on a few visits. "Say 
listen," Linda went on, "how's the spare room situation? I mean, my friend 
Ingrid and I would like to spend two weeks in Redwood City. The school 
vacation's so long, and we're getting tired of sitting home in San Jose. We 
thought maybe we could visit you for the next two weeks. What do you say? We 
wouldn't be any trouble, Rosemary, and we could help you around the house." 

"Sure, Linda," Rosemary said. "I'd love to have you. Sure, bring your friend 
too. I could use some company around here - it does get lonely." 

"Great! Can we come today?" Linda asked. 

"Whenever you want," said Rosemary. 

"Good, we'll have Mom drop us off sometime this afternoon, O.K.?" 

"Yes, Linda, I'm happy about it. See you then." 

Rosemary went back to her cold lunch and began eating the now tasteless 
food, happy that she would have some company around the house for a few 
weeks. She could use that, someone to talk to, someone to do things with . . 
. 

She froze stiff, a fork with it load of food clamped in her mouth. 

Two girls, she now realized. Two attractive, teenage girls! Who lived 
nearby. Two acceptable . . . new members . . .of the circle! 

This idea came to her with such force that it made her blood run cold, and 
she removed the fork from her mouth, swallowing the food in a lump. All 
through lunch, her conscience was telling her no, was making her sit frozen 
stiff and trembling, her pulse throbbing in her temples. Of course, she 
shouldn't do it, but if she were to do it? If she did actually succeed in 
doing it. . . 

Then she would be free! 

After finally finishing eating, she got up and began to rapidly pace the 
living room, beating a path from the coffee table with Kevin's telegram all 
the way to the hall with its little gallery of Spanish etchings, and then 
back again, her gaze on the floor and her mind locked in a rapt 
concentration. She did not know how long she paced like that, but it must 
have been a half hour or more. Of course, it was wrong, she thought over and 
over. But if. . . If, if, if Linda was - Rosemary remembered - rather young 
and tender, to say nothing of being a relative. But yet... a second cousin 
was not very close; a second cousin was, in fact, almost no relative at all, 
Rosemary told herself. And the other girl Rosemary remembered meeting once. 
She was indeed no relative at all, and a miniature Jane Mansfield; quite 
likely she would be no bastion of innocence .. . 

Less than two hours after the girl's phone call, the doorbell rang. 

Rosemary stopped to check herself in the hall mirror. Did she look like a 
corrupter of children? Of relatives? Did she look like a woman who would be 
capable of doing a such vile thing? Did she look like she was wildly and 
desperately plotting, scheming? 

No-no to all of them. 

Which only showed how appearances lied, for her mind was now resolved to use 
any trick in her power to trap these two unsuspecting girls into the circle, 
in order to buy her own freedom. 

She rushed to the door. 

"Rosemary!" said Linda, who was taller than she, and a natural blonde. 
"You're looking great. It's good to see you again." 

Ingrid, too, extended her hand. "It's nice of you to take us, Mrs. White," 
she said. Ingrid was tall and more fully built than Linda, and her blonde 
hair was peroxided. 

She wore hot pants out of which peeked the lower curve of her firm young 
buttocks. 

Rosemary motioned the girls inside, carrying in their suitcases, and took 
them on a tour of the house since Ingrid had not been there before. She 
showed them the recreation room downstairs, the little wine cellar, the 
collection of Spanish prints in the hall by the living room, and upstairs 
the guest room; on the return trip she paused before her own bedroom. 

"This is where Kevin and I slept," she said. 

The girls nodded, thinking that was perhaps a strange way to point out the 
bedroom. 

"And to tell the truth," Rosemary added jokingly, "we did a little more than 
just sleep here!" 

Linda flushed a bright red; Ingrid chuckled throatily; and Rosemary took 
note of both reactions. She was plotting. 

The assembly headed back toward the living room, Rosemary following the 
girls and watching Ingrid walk bouncingly in her hot pants. Her skin was 
tanned but enough of her buttocks peeked out to reveal a strip of white as 
well; her young rounded ass cheeks were so firm that they rose and fell in 
one motion, as single, rounded pieces of flesh, with now quivering whatever 
about them. Rosemary unobtrusively studied the girls' figures in this way, 
making note of good points and bad, as though she were the madam of a 
brothel planning to entice some new innocents. 

"Tell me," she said as they all sat again in the living room, "how old are 
you? I've forgotten, I must confess." 

"I'm almost eighteen," said Ingrid, accepting Rosemary's proffered 
cigarette. 

"And I'm sixteen," said second cousin Linda, refusing the cigarette. 

"And I'm twenty-five and my name is Sexually Frustrated!" said Rosemary 
jokingly, taking note of the girls' reaction Ingrid laughed with her, 
drawing on her cigarette; Linda uncomfortably crossed her legs. 

It was enough for now, Rosemary decided. She would have to be careful 
discussing sex with them, particularly with Linda, and for now she would 
drop it entirely. She would talk about other things with them, in a friendly 
way, so that they would learn to trust her and lower their guard. 

Rosemary fixed the hungry girls a lunch and brought it to them in the living 
room. "It was nice of you," Ingrid said, "to let us come here. Redwood City 
is so much more rural and pleasant than San Jose." 

"Yes," added Linda, her legs crossed in such a careless way that Rosemary 
could see one tight elastic leg band of her sheer white panties. "It will be 
like a real vacation to us. We can relax, and sun in the yard." 

"And swim," added Rosemary. "We've got a pool." 

"Gee!" said Ingrid. 

"And ride," Rosemary went on. 'There's a stable just down the road, where 
they board horses. One of them is mine and you can also take out Kevin's. 
We've got lots of good riding trails around here. Do you know how to ride?" 

"Yes, certainly," said the older peroxided Ingrid. 

"No," said younger Linda. It was amazing, Rosemary reflected, how thoroughly 
virginity penetrated a personality. 

"Then I'll teach you," Rosemary said. "I'll teach you everything!" 

The girls had a nice evening and later Rosemary put them to bed up in the 
guest room, retiring herself in the big master bed, her head full of the 
nuances of her plot. It mustn't fail, she told herself over and over again. 

They all slept in on Saturday until the sun had nearly burned through the 
morning fog - about nine-thirty, then Rosemary heard activity in the 
adjacent guest room. The girls were up. Rosemary herself got out of bed, 
wrapped a bathrobe around her, and walked silently to the guest room where 
she flung open the door. She'd caught - just as she had hoped - both girls 
just as they shed their pajamas, both revealingly naked. 

"Oh!" Rosemary said gently, "I'm sorry, I thought you were still in bed," 
she lied, unobtrusively studying their young curvaceous bodies. She had to 
see, after all, if they would be acceptable to Vance - if their bodies 
weren't good, there was no point in going through all the rest of her plot 
to bring them to the circle. 

Linda had ripely budding breasts with small round nipples that were 
positively pink. Her body looks fresh-born and untouched, her pubic hair a 
sparse wispy blonde matching the long natural blonde hair on her head. Her 
legs were youthfully slender and curvaceously formed. Rosemary could see no 
scars or abnormalities in Linda's body and was content. 

"I just wanted to tell you about the bathroom," Rosemary went on. "The 
towels and washcloths on the right of the sink are yours, and with the 
shower you've got to run the hot water for a couple of minutes before 
getting in, there's something wrong with the hot water heater. I'm saving it 
for Kevin to fix." In the length of these few statements Rosemary had also 
confirmed her good impression from the previous day of Ingrid's fully 
matured body. 

Ingrid's soft cunt curls were coal black, in contrast to the peroxided hair 
on her head. Her breasts were large hanging much lower than pert Linda's or 
Rosemary's own beauties - but well-shaped, full, and capped with large, 
deep-red nipples. Though Ingrid was the type who would probably like to run 
bra-less, she would have to wear one simply because of the size and weight 
of her enormously formed breasts. As with many young girls, the deep narrow 
crevice between her firm curving buttocks began surprisingly far down her 
back - and the white portion which had been covered by her bikini began 
still farther down. Unlike Linda, Ingrid had not the tiniest ounce of baby 
fat on her body - she was lean, fully developed but trim, and most likely 
already knew what sex was all about. 

"Thanks, Rosemary," the girls said, thinking she really came to tell them 
about the bathroom. Rosemary returned to her own room and dressed bra-less 
and in skimpy hot pants. She was going to set the hopefully impressionable 
young girls an example today. 

Over breakfast she got them to talk about boys. She listened patiently to 
stories about football heroes and unattainable rock idols, but the stories 
were disappointingly chaste. Rosemary pressed on, for the girls now clearly 
trusted her and were talking freely with her. 

"There's a party tonight," Rosemary began, "at the house of an acquaintance 
of mine. Or rather, his castle. It hangs on rocks right over the sea. He has 
gobs of money and nice friends. I was planning to go, and he already said I 
could bring some others if I wanted. Would you like to come?" 

"Sure!" chimed the girls in unison. 

At about noon she took them riding, giving Linda her own gentle horse, 
Ingrid Kevin's, and riding herself on a rented mare. The three rode side by 
side, but Rosemary waited until the time was ripe, and then she said: "You 
know, I'll confess something." The horse bounced her up and down on her 
sensitive spread apart loins on the saddle. "Do you know one reason I like 
to ride?" she grinned over at the teenage girls. 

Ingrid caught her meaning. "Because," eighteen year old Ingrid said, 
"because ... it feels good." 

"Right," Rosemary laughed. "Horse riding is made for us women. God knows," 
she went on in a more serious vein, the girls bouncing along beside her, "I 
don't have any sexual satisfaction these days. I mean ... I think I can talk 
to you like adults, can't I?" 

The girls said she could. 

"I am one frustrated woman," Rosemary said. "Kevin has been gone almost two 
years. And he knew how to play my body like a fine violin. And I got used to 
it, like a wife is supposed to. I need it. And what do I have now? The back 
of this horse!" she laughed. 

Both girls laughed with her. Rosemary switched to talking about the terrain, 
where the trails led, and then she returned to her subject. 

"I will confess something - but promise you won't let it get any further 
than us three." 

"It's a secret," the more naive, sixteen year old Linda said. 

"We are going to a party tonight, right? You know how it is sometimes at 
parties - there are rooms away from the main crowd and, well, sometimes 
things can happen there." She paused. "Well, this is one frustrated woman 
who won't mind if something happens there!" 

Linda blushed and was silent. Ingrid, though, caught up in the free talk, 
said, "And this is another!" 

Rosemary seized the opportunity. "Are you a virgin?" she asked Ingrid point 
blank. 

"No," answered Ingrid. "I was until -well, until I was Linda's age. But I've 
had intercourse several times now. Not with just anyone, of course! But ... 
I mean ... if the situation's right... I wouldn't mind." 

The girls rode on, coming now onto a field from which they could glimpse the 
distant blue Pacific with its white breakers. There was a silence because it 
was the younger, natural blonde Linda's turn to confess. Rosemary helped her 
cousin. 

"Linda, I think you are a virgin, right?" Rosemary asked. 

"Yes," replied Linda. "I've petted with boy friends. But I've never . . . 
gone all the way." There was an awkward silence among the three. "But I've 
nothing against it," Linda added. 

"Perhaps you shouldn't come with us tonight," Rosemary said, using reverse 
psychology, "because knowing these particular people, there is a fair chance 
something might happen. It's a pretty fast crowd. I mean, it's up to you." 

Linda swallowed. "I'm game if you are," she said. 

'Then we'll all go," Rosemary said, "and have a good time. And if, in the 
course of duty, we have to lower our drawers ..." she joked, leaving the 
sentence unfinished. The girls rode a broad circle around the field and 
headed back toward the stables. 

There was still one more thing left in Rosemary's plot. She had the girls 
prepared now - at least in theory - to have intercourse tonight, but they 
weren't prepared to take part in the planned, orgiastic sort of group 
fucking which would take place at the circle party. The remainder of her 
intricate plot was to advance the girls' preparation until they would be 
ready for even this. Although Rosemary was doing something wrong in trapping 
the girls into the circle, her conscience at least made her prepare them as 
much as they could be, instead of simply leading them there like sheep to 
the slaughter. 

The medium for this last instruction was a little cabinet full of books in 
the basement by the wine cellar. Kevin had collected the books in his 
travels as a single man around the world, and Rosemary hadn't minded his 
keeping them when they got married because she herself liked them. 

"Let's have some wine," Rosemary said, leading the girls down to the wine 
cellar. She picked a bottle, blew off the dust, and on the way back pointed 
to the little cabinet and said, "For God's sake don't look in there! It's 
not locked, but I'll trust you. It would corrupt you. In there are Kevin's 
pictures of things that aren't so nice." 

They all drank wine in the living room. Then Rosemary said she had to go out 
- and she did: to the garden where she could watch through the basement 
window what transpired. First Linda, and then Ingrid, came down in the 
basement and sat before the cabinet greedily pulling out the contents and 
examining the photographs and etchings from Japan, France, India . .. 

Rosemary gave them a good hour of the forbidden surreptitious looking before 
she came loudly down into the basement saying, "Now where did I put that 
iron?" She caught, of course, the two girls red-handed and frightened. 

"I'm surprised at you!" Rosemary said, softening her anger to a smile. "You 
girls must be faster than I thought." 

Caught in the act and blushing, the relieved girls - glad that Rosemary 
wasn't mad or threatening them with telling their parents - agreed. Rosemary 
came and kneeled on the floor beside them, their slighted sex-flushed 
bodies. 

"This one is nice," Rosemary said, flipping through the obscene book Linda 
held tremblingly before her. "From India." She pointed to a photo of a woman 
thirstily sucking a man's long white cock: "I've done that," she said in a 
low husky tone of confession. "Would you?" 

"I've done it, too," Ingrid came back. 

"And this," Rosemary went on, pointing to a lust-stirring etching of sodomy, 
"I have not done, but I wouldn't mind it." In this way, the three girls all 
continued flipping anxiously through the pages, showing especially good 
pictures to the others. 

When the impressionable young teenagers were panting with growing desire and 
Rosemary could see Linda secretively grinding her heated little cunt against 
her heels she kneeled, Rosemary added in confidence: "I'll tell you a 
secret. Tonight, we'll have the chance to do all of it. I'm positive it's 
going to be a sex party and turn into a regular orgy." 

"Oh good!" said Ingrid passionately. 

"Neat!" said Linda, so helplessly excited was she. 

Some hours later the pretty adolescent girls got ready to go to the party. 
Car keys in her hand, Rosemary paused before the door. She pushed up her 
short skirt and yanked at her silk bikini panties until they came down to 
her knees, and then she stepped suggestively out of them. She flung the 
panties casually across the room. 

"Might as well do it now as later!" Rosemary said. 

And, in excited imitation, the two malleable teenage girls did the same. So 
thoroughly had Rosemary broken them down, from proper young women this 
morning - one of them a virgin - through various well-planned passion 
inciting stages in the afternoon until now finally they were more than eager 
to go out whoring. 

Sitting in the Porsche speeding toward Vance's mansion, the short upriding 
skirts of the tall, lithe girls did not even cover their pantiless vaginas. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

"Good evening, good evening," Vance said to the couple approaching the 
mansion door ahead of Rosemary and her young pretty companions. "You're 
looking well, Janet," he said to the woman, who smiled her answer back to 
Vance. They passed through the portal. Vance stood in the doorway's arch 
looking out into the night, the twilight making his hair glint silver. 

He strained his eyes to see through the encroaching dark. That did look like 
a Porsche parked way over by the cliff, but getting out was not just 
Rosemary but a group of people. Ah, women! Vance could tell now, watching 
the short micro-skirts of all three women flick back and forth with their 
approaching walk. Was it possible . . . did Rosemary really bring friends? 
Yes! Yes, indeed! This caused a very mixed emotion in Vance. 

"Rosemary, my love," he said before she even touched the first step, "we're 
glad to see you." 

"Hello, Vance," she said brightly. "Vance, this is Linda.. . and this is 
Ingrid." She motioned to each enticing teenaged girl in turn. 

"Well!" responded Vance. "I'm pleased to meet you. My name is Vance Winston. 
Tell me - do I detect a bit of the family resemblance with you . .. Linda?" 

The blonde-haired virginal girl met his inquiring look boldly and without 
blushing. "I'm Rosemary's second cousin," she said. 

"Ah! Yes, beauty does run in your family." He guided everyone inside and 
followed himself, still talking. "Just as beasts run in some other families 
- namely mine!" 

He turned to the more curvaceous, peroxided Ingrid and said "Beauty runs in 
your family too, my dear, yes, I can tell. There are not three lovelier 
young women at this party. Come..." They were already in the parlor and now 
they moved through it toward the first of a chain of many introductions. 

Vance really was being nice, Rosemary thought. He wasn't shocking the 
slightly nervous girls, and also he'd had the good sense not to welcome them 
to the sex-circle - realizing they might not yet know they were in the 
circle. "You did well," he whispered to Rosemary, motioning her away from 
his little traveling group of teenaged beauties and the obligation of 
introductions. Rosemary went to the bar and asked for a gin tonic, not 
noticing who gave it to her. 

The sensually budding girls were indeed attractive as Vance guided them 
throughout the room. They had an air of propriety about them quite 
inappropriate to the fact that they wore nothing beneath their short' 
micro-skirts. Whenever Ingrid shook hands with someone she automatically 
leaned slightly forward, and Rosemary saw a bit of her firm white buttocks 
peek tantalizingly out of her skirt. Rosemary laughed inwardly when she saw 
that - it was so silly, and yet such a pleasantly new feeling, to have no 
panties on, feeling cool rushes of air up her long, lithe legs against her 
naked pussy. No one knew! Such a proper room, impossible really to think of 
all these people as anything other than repressed cocktail-pushers. The 
young girls - outwardly proper, but secretly without panties - fit in 
perfectly, for every other soul in the room would very soon be rapidly 
removing his or her own panties, and every one knew it full well as they 
stood around chatting and sipping Vance's drinks. Rosemary finished her gin 
tonic and turned to the bartender for a second. 

Good god! It was Clark who stood just a few feet from Rosemary behind the 
bar, dressed in a long white coat, the buttons of which nearly popped as the 
coat strained over his powerful chest. 

Clark! And he knew whom he had before him, all right! He leered shamelessly 
at voluptuous Rosemary, towering over her by several feet and hunched 
threateningly forward, a malicious gleam in his liquid animal-like eyes. 
Rosemary flinched uncomfortably from his hungry appraising gaze and scurried 
across the room with her new drink. 

It was quite a shock to see Clark in the assembly, the single bit of 
ugliness among the young, attractive circle members. He was like the bull in 
the china shop, or more accurately, like the ape in Vance's parlor. Why did 
Vance have him here, was he just going to tend bar and cast his devouring, 
obscene glances at the attractive females in the room like he was now doing 
so shamelessly, or was he going to actually take part in the orgiastic 
activities? Rosemary cringed at just the thought. Well, whatever, Clark was 
not going to get her. True this was a regular circle party and she would 
have to - she sighed in pleasant anticipation - have sex tonight, most 
likely getting fucked; but forcing was not allowed in the circle. One could 
use persuasion but not force - if she didn't like someone, she didn't have 
to have him if she was persistent enough in her refusals. And if anyone 
tried to foist Clark off on her she would be persistent, all right! Having 
Clark even touch her was totally out of the question. Bah! - she shivered 
again with revulsion as she cast another glance at his monstruous, muscular 
form, so huge and repulsive, an eyesore, even behind the bar in his white 
servant's coat. 

"We're going downstairs now," Vance said, returning to Rosemary with the 
vivaciously animated girls. "Do you want to come, Rosemary? As I was just 
explaining to your little beauties, we have a quite interesting and unusual 
film to show down there." Rosemary followed Vance, Ingrid and Linda as 
gradually, did everyone else in the room. 

Vance started the film running and then came out and sat closely in the 
booth with Rosemary. Linda and Ingrid sat snugly in the next booth with the 
two circle men, the booth barely large enough to contain all four. Rosemary 
looked over at them - they watched the screen still in complete ignorance of 
what would appear on it when the preliminary frames stopped. This film, in 
color, had credits and a title: GIRL OF INDIA. 

In the middle of a lush green landscape a pale and completely naked young 
girl appeared, scarcely fifteen. Her budding little breasts bounced tautly 
up and down as she walked; her dark eyes were small and downcast, her 
expression resigned; the camera circled completely around her as she walked 
to catch all the curving angles of her developing young body. Her buttocks 
were tight, firm, and not too prominent, as though she were still a child; 
only her tautly bouncing breasts, and something in her expression, announced 
that she was sexually not a child. She walked quickly as though impatient to 
reach a predetermined spot - as though, indeed, to get it over with. 
Suddenly she reached the spot - a little plateau of closely cropped grass - 
and stopped, abruptly sitting down on the ground and spreading her slender 
white legs revealingly wide apart like the blades of a pair of scissors. 
There was scarcely a single strand of pussy hair between her widely parted 
legs, just the little pink "vee" of her youthful cunt. The fleshy pink 
vaginal slit was too tightly shut to see the secret inner lips of her 
vaginal opening. Only a small swath of the interior of her virgin's cuntal 
lips showed pink and fleshy, a narrow strip of glistening flesh on the 
screen. 

A man appeared on the screen, naked, his long hard cock standing out before 
him like a huge thick stump. He quickly knelt between the girl's enticingly 
spread legs, and her eyes darted down to his stiffly erected penis, then 
flinched away in shame. Yet she knew - or was being told - what she must do. 
For in less than a minute she had wetly covered both of his desire-tightened 
balls with her tongue and ended up with his hard thickened cock stuck deep 
in her oval-lipped, straining mouth. She began bobbing heatedly up and down 
on the fleshy upstanding perns, all of her delicate white body straining 
with the effort. 

"Well, you brought the new members," Vance said softly to Rosemary - softly 
enough that the red-faced, shocked girls next-door could not hear. 
"Rosemary, I see now that you really are going to leave us." He paused, 
letting his eyes wander to the screen for a moment and linger there, and 
then drop away - there was nothing new, he'd seen it all. 

"I'm sorry Rosemary, you know," he said. 

"I'm sorry too, Vance," Rosemary lied. 

"Yet... they're very cute girls you brought, quite acceptable. I'll let you 
go, Rosemary." He reached down below the booth's mattress frame and pulled 
out a stack of films, pushing the entire pile along the floor toward 
Rosemary. "Here," he said, "they're yours. And I have no copies." 

It was all going so wonderfully smooth! Rosemary was delighted - to get the 
films back so effortlessly, without doing a thing and with no tongue-lashing 
from Vance was a dream fulfilled. Perhaps she should walk out with them 
right now, not taking any part at all in the evening's orgy. 

But Vance continued: "You know, Clark did get quite an itch for a fuck that 
time. And he's rather choosy - he doesn't like just anyone." Vance paused, 
studying Rosemary's face from which the beam of happiness had just faded, 
being replaced by a look of frozen horror. "He liked you," Vance said. "But. 
.. now you're going from us. So I think Clark might like to sample one of 
the two new girls; one of the two girls now sipping the aphrodisiac; say . 
.. Linda ..." 

"Eeeeeeeeeeehhhh!" Rosemary screamed in shock and revulsion at the idea. 
Heads all over the room turned, but seeing that Rosemary was not being 
harmed, the heads soon enough looked away again in disinterest. 

That lousy bastard Vance! That was his trump card, all right, and he was 
using it now to the best possible effect. True Rosemary did - despite her 
conscience - arrange the trap for the girls, but having Clark break in poor, 
virginal Linda would be just too much! Rosemary had done something bad, very 
bad, already; but she still had enough human decency, even in her fight for 
freedom, to see that those tender young girls were not handled by beasts. 

She turned her tearful eyes to the booth next to her. The men had their arms 
around Rosemary's friends, but matters had not progressed further, and all 
watched the film. On the screen the man had moved to the side so that the 
unfortunate young girl, still thirstily sucking him, could in a sitting 
position receive a second lover, this one in her little girlish cunt. The 
man's excitedly stiffening cock was just now worming its slow, teasing way 
through the wetly glistening lips of her pussy and into her 
soon-to-be-ravished little vaginal entrance, while the girl's face - 
distorted from the cock-sucking - twisted still more from her frightened 
wincing cries. The tears brimmed over Rosemary's eyes and flooded her cheeks 
at the guilty thought that soon Linda would be getting something like that 
girl on the screen, and it would be Rosemary's doing. But... it would not be 
Clark. NO! 

Rosemary gritted her teeth. "I'll take Clark," she said in a trembling voice 
to Vance. "Once. If you promise he will never get to touch the girls. 
Never." 

Vance took Rosemary's hand, his attitude suddenly became eager and excited. 
"I promise," he said. He squeezed Rosemary's cold, trembling hand - and 
simultaneously with the other he loudly snapped his fingers. 

Clark immediately appeared and Vance nodded to him; Clark understood. 

The pleased and excited sex-group leader slipped away from the booth, to 
hover voyeur-like nearby; the shapely teenagers had snuggled into their 
companions' arms, still sitting properly; and around the room lewd action 
was slowly beginning which left here and there a naked breast exposed, some 
eagerly pulsating cocks, here and there but as yet no contact. Only the film 
showed contact with the girl being skewered now in her sucking mouth and in 
her tight, helplessly straining virginal cunt from which a thin trail of 
blood could be seen trailing down her trembling young thighs. 

In Rosemary's booth, the action was quite different from the rest. 

The idiot Clark muttered something - could he not even talk? and mentioned 
demandingly to Rosemary to take her clothes off. Rosemary moved 
instinctively away from the hulking man on the mattress, as far away as she 
could get, and began to unbutton her blouse, gradually exposing enticing 
patches of her sun-bronzed flesh. She shrugged the blouse off her sloping 
shoulders, bringing her naked breasts into view with their tiny pink nipples 
bobbing sensually around from the movement of her slender arms. 

She bent forward to slide off her shoes, and then - still sitting - she 
unzipped her short skirt and tugged dutifully at it, her beautiful face as 
resigned as a lamb being led to the slaughter. As she raised her firmly 
rounded buttocks just enough to let the brief skirt slip beneath her it was 
apparent to Clark - and the nearby Vance - that she'd worn no panties. The 
moronic servant smiled lewdly and possessively as she dropped the skirt to 
the floor and lay back on the couch, mechanically - like a obedient robot. 
Her brown, thickly fringed eyes glazed with resignation and suppressed fear 
as she turned to face Clark, lying on her side. There were tears on her 
face, and her tortured mind spun with the effort of controlling her racing 
disgust for the bestial, overly-muscled man who now breathed so close to her 
that she could smell his breath. She vowed - anxious to save some last 
little bit of self-respect -that she was not going to look at him and she 
clamped her eyes tightly shut. 

"Aaaaaaaaagh!" she groaned loudly, startled at the greedy hands which 
reached up and began to heatedly knead her full exposed breasts with thick, 
crude fingers. But she didn't scream again, she just bit her lips to squelch 
her utter humiliation. 

The dim-witted muscle man lay next to her, his face even with her fearfully 
quivering breasts, and his tongue snaked out eagerly to tease the stiffening 
nipple-buds, making them palpitate into lewd erection. Involuntarily a mewl 
of pleasure escaped Rosemary's lips - it was nice, having someone play wetly 
around her sensitive breasts, if she didn't stop to think about who it was. 

Now the tongue snaked warmly down her heaving belly and into the soft 
indentation of her navel, darting in for a moment, before continuing to 
trace a wet tormenting path all the way down the smooth flat plane of her 
abdomen, and finally into the soft black pussy hair guarding her moist, 
lust-incited cunt. With a grunt Clark dropped his arms and placing a hand on 
either trembling leg, pried them apart; then with one thumb on each of the 
fleshy, hair-lined lips of her now-exposed cunt, he pulled them gently 
apart. The warm fleshiness of her cunt glinted softly pink, and she was 
spread wide enough that he could see a little way into her small tight 
vaginal opening. Clark's head jerked forward and his tongue buried itself 
with a wet sluicing sound in the warm quivering opening. 

Rosemary groaned involuntarily. God knows she didn't want sex with the 
muscle-bound idiot but having no choice, she might as well get on with it. 
She recalled with spine-chilling horror the size of his huge thick penis 
when she had seen it exposed, jerking lustfully upward toward her, when he 
had almost taken her in Vance's study. Soon tonight - somehow - that 
enormous thickness would be inside of her vainly resisting cunt. It was so 
big it would break her in half! She was afraid of the prospect of that long 
hard penis inside of her more than anything; and for this very reason she 
now decided to abandon herself to whatever little grain of lascivious 
pleasure she could get from the foreplay. She hoped to prepare herself and 
also in this way to please the lust-crazed idiot - so that when it came time 
for him to actually stick it in her almost virginally small cunt she might 
be able to persuade him to do it gently. God how she feared that big, thick 
cock! And, conversely, how she loved the licentious electric tingling now 
creeping up her belly from his tongue worming wetly in her vagina. 

She surprised even herself when she moved her feet further apart and tangled 
her hands in Clark's hair pulling his face tight into her hotly throbbing 
cuntal mound. She began to grind her hips sensuously in time to the moistly 
darting tongue that probed up into her love-starved pussy. Her eyes were 
still clamped shut, and her mouth began to hang open in undisguised pleasure 
- undisguised because she wanted the idiot to see it. She goaded the big 
deformed man on with her hands and with her wantonly pumping hips, like a 
nymphomaniac gone wild. Her muscles strained under the tightness of her 
naked flesh, standing out like stretched ropes ready to snap against the 
pressure of his repeated forward tongue-thrusts into her insanely throbbing 
cunt. 

It might not be so bad to fuck Clark after all, she thought. She did not see 
the shadowy figure standing nearby - Vance was enjoying this so much that it 
was a supreme effort for him not to make a film of it. Yet in this respect 
he was trustworthy; but in another he was not.. . 

"In the ass!" he whispered to dim-witted servant. 

Rosemary didn't hear the obscene words, but she was aware that Clark's 
tongue had stopped the wild probing of her steadily pulsating vagina, 
stopped it when she had been very near to having a climax! She opened her 
eyes and saw the lust-driven idiot hurriedly removing his clothes. She saw 
also another figure hovering excitedly nearby: Vance! Well, let him watch, 
let him have his fun, why not, just this quick fuck and she would be done 
with it, she thought, clamping her eyes tightly shut again. 

Hands came onto her nakedly quivering thighs - she didn't realize there were 
four hands - and tugged at her voluptuous body until she had turned over. 
She obeyed, laying on her stomach now, her widespread legs hanging obscenely 
from both edges of the mattress. Clark ducked down between them as he 
grabbed her ankles and spread her legs still wider apart. He then spread the 
resilient cheeks of her ass with his hands, exposing the tiny tight pink 
anus nestled invitingly in the crevice. He ran his hand up the inside of her 
thigh all the way to the wetness of her moist open cunt and his head dropped 
to wetly kiss the smooth oval buttocks, his tongue trailing down to lick the 
deep narrow crevice between them, pausing to twirl lewdly around her 
pulsating little anus. 

The taut puckered skin strained around the little anal opening as Clark's 
thumbs pulled excitedly at the tender pink flesh. Now his outstretched 
finger began to probe at the puckered little inlet while Rosemary groaned in 
growing humiliation. 

"Spread 'em wider," Clark said. 

Rosemary did as told until her long white legs could now be spread no wider. 
Clark was going to fuck her from behind, she thought naively, but why was he 
fumbling so lasciviously around her anus? She did not especially like that, 
but was willing to put up with almost anything to keep him happy, to get on 
with it! To get it over! 

The thick finger probed forcefully and Rosemary groaned loudly as it 
suddenly popped through the little puckered ring. She jumped slightly 
forward from the sharp pain, her mouth wincing in unheeded protest, 
straining away from the intruding finger as her warm rubbery rectal flesh 
closed tightly over it in forced acceptance. Another groan of protest 
escaped her pain-tightened lips as the finger cruelly dug into the first 
knuckle. 

Clark rotated it harshly around in the tight expanding hole in eager 
preparation for what would follow, sawing in and out and expanding the tiny 
resisting anus ever more. And Rosemary began to wriggle her hips desirously 
back against it, beginning almost to enjoy it, still thinking Clark was just 
fooling around in prelude to a regular screwing - the barbaric cruelty of 
sodomy never crossing her mind. 

Clark brutally dug another finger in and Rosemary squealed, burying her face 
in the mattress, any further enjoyment suddenly out of the question. He 
placed one hand on the small of her back to pin her voluptuous naked body 
firmly down as he screwed both fingers into her mercilessly, stretching the 
tiny puckered anus until she grunted in pain each time he twisted his hand. 
She was being skewered like a helpless animal on a spit as the cruel 
sodomizing fingers worked around and around deep up in her virginal 
wide-stretched rectum. 

Clark relished what would follow. This stuck-up little bitch, he thought, is 
the same one that was too good to have him that time in Vance's study. But 
now he had her, all right, he'd made her groan with pleasure and now he was 
prodding her defenselessly straining anus like an avenging angel, pinning 
her hard to the mattress at the same time, allowing no possible escape. His 
painfully throbbing cock was fully erect and soon he would shove it in. How 
good that would be! This bitch who'd called him an ugly bastard would be 
naked and totally subjugated before him, not just being fucked, but being 
involuntarily fucked up her resisting virginal anus. 

Ready, Clark pulled his two extended fingers out of the writhing brunette, 
and the fingers seemed to come out reluctantly, the pink clasping skin 
clinging tightly to them until they withdrew with a wet vacuum-like sucking 
noise. 

He pushed the smooth rounded ass-cheeks wide apart again with his hands and 
lowered his face into the narrow, exposed crevice. His tongue licked 
teasingly at the throbbing hole until the surprised raven-haired beauty 
could not stand this abusive, tickling torture another minute. 

"Stop! Oh, please stop! God, don't do that!" 

"Kneel, you cunt," the idiot commanded from behind her. She obediently got 
up to her knees, presenting the rounded white half-moons of her naked 
buttocks up to the now wildly aroused Clark. He stood up behind her, 
directly between her widespread curving thighs, and leaned forward, his 
hands bracing his large body on the mattress, his huge stiffened cock 
standing straight out with its blunt bulging head resting obscenely in her 
split rear crevice. 

"Tickle my balls, you whore," he said. She was totally at his mercy now, and 
he intended to take full advantage of it. Rosemary reached back under her 
nakedly kneeling body and gently stroked at the large hairy testicles 
dangling heavily down between Clark's thighs. She stroked at the 
flaccid-skinned balls hungrily, in the hope that being nice to Clark might 
produce mercy - for she now had a horrible inkling of what he intended to 
do. 

"And now, my sweet bitch," he said, "stick it in." His voice was rough and 
crude, the words passionately slurred. Rosemary's hands moved hesitantly 
from the softness of his testicles and grasped his huge rock-hard cock. A 
sudden expression of fear flashed across her face as her fingers closed 
around the heavily pounding shaft flesh and she realized again just how 
enormously big it was. It seemed even bigger when she held it than it had 
before when she had only seen it! She stroked the long throbbing penis 
experimentally, indecision apparent on her tortured face. 

"Put it in, I said!" he snarled. "Put it in your ass!" He savagely dug his 
talon-like fingers into the sensitive flesh of her hips, holding the 
abjectly kneeling young wife in place. 

Her ass! God! Yet, totally subjugated, her young mind swirling in confused 
circles, she tremblingly submitted to the cold command and the cruel 
pressure of his hands by placing the hard, blunt tip of his warmly pulsating 
penis against the tight little opening. 

Immediately, the massively throbbing cock began probing and working against 
her tiny puckering anus, the muscles of Clark's stomach standing out as he 
strained his naked body forward. It looked like a giant battering ram trying 
to force its way into Rosemary's helplessly quivering rectal opening. She 
clenched her eyes more tightly shut as she felt the straining little nether 
ring suddenly give way before the relentless pressure, and the lust-swollen 
cockhead pop inside with a sudden rush. 

"Aaaagghhhh!" she shrieked, her face contorted in pain from the brutal 
ravishment of her virginal, defenseless anus. 

Vance's servant watched the nakedly kneeling young wife trying to pull away, 
trying to escape the unwanted obscene impalement. Grinning sadistically, he 
grabbed her warm-fleshed thighs tightly, pulling her back toward his 
massively swollen cock, locking her in position as he thrust his hips 
forward with all of his strength against her helplessly upturned buttocks. 

"Oh God, it hurts, it hurts. It's too big -oooooohh, it's too big!" 

But the rock-hard, cruelly erected penis surged forward battering the 
rubbery resistant flesh before it without respite, sliding deep - even 
deeper - into her fearfully cringing rectum. 

"Oooooooohh, oh God ... please ... stop! Ooooooooooohhhh," she yelled as his 
pelvis finally smacked loudly against the trembling softness of her 
cock-impaled ass cheeks. The thick rampaging instrument was now buried to 
the hilt in her hideously stretched anus. 

Clark's lasciviscious grin shone from his face. He had her! The little bitch 
had no choice now, no choice but to be taken just as he wished. He had her, 
all right! 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

On the screen the young dark-haired girl momentarily broke contact with the 
wetly stiffened cock she was sucking to change position. The man who was 
fucking her from behind pulled back to he flat on the grass, his penis still 
buried deep up inside her vagina. She shifted her weight forward until she 
nearly fell - the man raised his hands and, turning her shoulders, lowered 
her gradually until she was lying flat on her stomach on top of him. During 
none of this difficult position-shifting had her tight little cunt broken 
contact with the man's long, embedded cock, and her pained face registered 
this fact clearly. 

Now she lifted her small, girlish buttocks up in the air to try and pull 
away from the thick masculine cock which remained so deep up inside her. The 
man's response to this was to put his hands firmly on the cheeks of her 
trembling little buttocks to control her movement. When he wanted an 
out-stroke he let up on his hands and her young vibrant ass-cheeks rose in 
the air as though mounted on a spring; when he wanted an in-stroke he bore 
down on his hands again, pressing the girl's wide-splayed loins to his. In 
this way, he made her involuntarily do the pumping for him while he lay 
passively in position. It made an obscene spectacle, mainly because of the 
disparity in size between the heavy set older man and his big fleshy penis 
and the delicate, small girl whose barely developed pussy was being stuffed 
painfully beyond capacity. Her expression was an alternation between 
eyes-clenched, tendon-straining torture and moments when she relaxed 
temporarily and opened her eyes to reveal a pain-glazed expression as her 
tears poured out. 

On instructions, the petite brunette propped the upper part of her barely 
adolescent body up on her elbows and moved so that her shoulders and face 
were no longer directly on top of the man but instead at her side. The other 
man, the one she had sucked, now returned for more and lay back on the grass 
after placing his eagerly jerking cock near the girl's mouth. 

He then reached down and sadistically played with the helpless nipple of one 
pertly budding breast. Then he stopped as the girl took his impatiently 
pulsating cock once more deep into the warm moistness of her mouth, her 
pained expression increasing, her pale face tinged with the blushing 
overtones of shame. She was doing the same thing now as before the position 
shift - sucking one man and being vaginally raped by another - with one 
important difference: Her quivering buttocks were now defenselessly exposed. 

The camera moved away from her face and circled around to capture her 
widespread, white legs from behind, showing her nakedly besieged cuntal area 
that was wet and matted. The man's massive cock was so out-of-proportion to 
the dimensions of her little straining vagina that the tight, elastic-rimmed 
opening looked as tautly stretched as a pink rubber band ready to break. 
When the man released the pressure on her round trembling buttocks and her 
buttocks rose, her receding vagina gripped his penis, tugging at the 
stretched cock-flesh as though it were reluctant to let it go. When the man 
bore down again with his hands, digging his fingers into the pliant flesh of 
her young buttocks, her vagina squeezed his cock so tightly that the 
loosening skin of his cock rippled all the way down to his desire-taut balls 
as the adolescent vagina advanced. When it had consumed all his penis to the 
balls, the man moved the girl's youthfully supple buttocks in lewd circular 
gyrations with his guiding hands, holding her pressed ever-harder against 
him. Over and over he moved her round girlish hips for her in forced 
gyration. 

Then - miraculously - he released his hands and the young brunette's 
buttocks did not spring up in the air again, but instead she continued 
gyrating in tiny hungry circles on her own power. She was getting use to it! 
She didn't like it, but she was now for the first time taking conscious part 
in the lewd action. 

A third man, naked and with a half-erected penis, stepped into the picture 
behind the dually impaled girl. He knelt between her slender, widespread 
legs and placed one hand on each firmly rounded ass-cheek; the chill jerked 
at the unexpected contact of these unseen hands. 

The man spread her defenselessly exposed buttocks apart and poked an 
extended middle finger at her pink, rubbery anal ring, causing the girl to 
jerk again this time more violently. But there was no respite: The man 
spread her fearfully trembling buttocks farther and wormed his finger in, 
working it smoothly around inside in a forced reaming. His long thick cock 
became fully erected in his mounting passion at doing this and he raised it 
jerkily up the narrow parted crevice of her buttocks until it was next to 
his sodomizing finger. Then he yanked the extended middle finger out, and 
immediately guided his impatiently jerking cock down on the tiny anal 
opening. Then, grinning lewdly, he thrust forward until the defensively 
puckering anus gradually gave way. The girl - with one thrusting cock in her 
distorted mouth and another plunged far up into her tight little cunt jerked 
violently, but with so many hands holding her, escape was impossible. The 
third man's weight and continual pressure slowly succeeded in burying his 
lust-thickened cock up inside her tight young rectum to the hilt. As the 
girl clenched her insanely straining anal muscles it only incited the man's 
impaling thrusts between her defenseless little buttocks. 

The unfortunate girl on the screen was getting the same thing as Rosemary, 
but in a more brutal way. The cruelty of her extreme youth and frailty, and 
the fact that she was now satisfying three older men, made the spectacle 
horrifying but also lewdly captivating to its audience. It was impossible to 
watch such a film without getting aroused. Throughout the film room couples 
breathed heavily as people simultaneously watched the ever-progressing film 
and began their own in-the-flesh sexual contacts. No one in the room was 
fully dressed anymore, with the exception of Vance - who stood watching the 
voluptuous Rosemary being sodomized - and the two teen-age girls. 

And even their excitement over the film had reached such a fevered pitch 
that they had allowed their partners to seek about beneath their short 
skirts; no panties in the way, fingers quickly sunk into their moistened, 
hotly undulating vaginas. The fingers teased the girls' soft hair-lined 
pussy mounds in gentle stroking motions, and then began invading into the 
warmly moistened softness of tender vaginal walls. Excited secretions eased 
the entry and flowed out around girlish buttocks which ground impatiently 
into the mattress. Linda's little virginal cunt expanded with each lewd 
teasing rotation; Ingrid's vagina had already held more than fingers, and 
she moved around the probing outstretched finger with her hips gyrating 
hungrily in a more practiced freedom. 

"Man, what an ass!" cried Clark as the helplessly naked Rosemary wavered on 
the end of his long, stone-hard cock like a pig on a giant roasting spit. He 
fucked away into her painfully quivering rectum as he continued spouting 
foul obscenities behind her, pausing now and then to gasp for breath as his 
sadistic pleasure at this salacious sight and feeling became extreme. 

"Look at that little bitch shake it," the muscle bound sadist said, pumping 
rhythmically and without mercy deep within Rosemary's searing rectum 
bringing helpless sobs of misery and humiliation from her tortured lips. 
"Look at her wag it, look at the little bitch go!" he chided, adding his 
lewd words to the obscene physical revenge he, was taking on her 
subserviently kneeling body. 

Rosemary had never felt so soiled and debauched in her life and her whole 
invaded behind felt wet and used as Clark lunged the full throbbing length 
of his brutally punishing cock into her rectum with long smooth strokes. He 
pulled tiny ridges of her clasping pink flesh out with the thick white base 
of his cock as he withdrew for another viciously deep lunge inside. Rosemary 
was dimly aware of Clark chuckling to himself with each long hard lunge the 
cruelly rampaging cock made into her upraised behind, commanding her servile 
kneeling body which was bent like an errant slave before its cruel master. 

Rosemary's naked voluptuous body jerked and quivered and her thighs 
periodically convulsed as an extra deep hard thrust seared into her small 
tortured rectum. She could hear Clark's grunts of lascivious pleasure float 
obscenely through the room around them, and she hated herself and her 
enticing curvaceous body for the joy it was giving him though there was 
nothing she could do about it. In spite of her pain, she clasped tightly her 
strong constricting anal muscles trying to rip the cruelly plunging column 
of flesh from his body. 

"Aaaaagh," Clark groaned, "God, she's a tight little thing! Man, is she 
nice!" he groaned, throwing back his head in ecstasy from the warm clasping 
flesh tightly enveloping his throbbing hardness. Rosemary didn't want this 
to go on much longer, not this indecent cruel sodomizing of her defenseless 
rectum, even though the physical anguish was lessening now. The terrible 
humiliation was too great! She had to end it, she had to, she prayed for the 
strength to please Vance's dim-witted servant in order to finally end it. 

She began to move lustfully backward and meet his deep forward-thrusting 
cock, undulating her naked young body and swinging her full rounded buttocks 
in lewdly rotating circles, clasping it tightly with the slight throb of her 
sphincter muscles on the out-stroke. Clark perceived the change, he 
perceived that she was beginning to give him back now what he was giving 
her. 

He surged deeply into her with renewed power... 

It was all so strange to Linda, the rude but enjoyable explorations of her 
tender virginal cunt which sent such pulsations of wild excitement coursing 
so deliciously through her. And sitting immediately beside her was Ingrid 
getting the same exact obscene petting, and it seemed so very strange for 
Linda to be able to watch someone else heatedly doing the same precise 
forbidden thing as she. It was indecent, she knew, to watch someone else 
passionately having their private sexual satisfaction, yet with peroxided 
blonde Ingrid so exposed and undulating her hot, moistened cunt with such 
obvious satisfaction, Linda had to watch; just as she was aware of the older 
teen-age girl glancing sometimes at her, and of the two aroused men who 
drank in the entire salacious scene with hungry pleasure glinting in their 
eyes. It was so group-like, so brazenly permissive, this being touched and 
being seen by others at the same time. And all around the heated room in the 
semi-darkness were quivering white patches of nakedly impassioned flesh 
visible, and lewd movement, thighs pumping up and down, heads flailing, and 
all of it visible if anyone cared to concentrate on the strange perverse 
sights and pick them out of the semi-darkness. Why, even in the next booth, 
where Rosemary was, there must be something sexual going on ... Linda turned 
her head, rotating her exposed young body slightly - careful to keep her 
long lithe legs spread so the delicious fingering would not be interrupted - 
to look curiously into Rosemary's booth. 

Oh my God! Rosemary's nakedly rounded buttocks arched up directly into 
Linda's startled view, wagging sensuously back and forth on the huge 
embedded cock of a repulsive-looking man! Rosemary was fucking! Linda had 
never before seen anyone fucking, except just now in the film, and it was 
very different to see it going on heatedly beside her. The man was so ugly! 
And - how did he get that big thing in Rosemary, it looked so incredibly 
enormous compared to Rosemary's pink stretched-tight little .. . hole ... 
the young girl gasped: That wasn't her curvaceous cousin's pussy the big man 
was so lasciviously skewering into! Linda looked carefully again, to confirm 
her terrible suspicion - she saw Rosemary's moistened, hair-lined cunt lips, 
and then well above the curving unseparated lips the long giant cock was 
furiously rocking in and out of - the pinkly straining orifice of her 
rectum! Linda gasped in utter shock and disbelief. The same obscene thing 
was going on in the lust-inciting movie, but here it was happening 
unbelievably right beside her -and to her voluptuous and married cousin 
Rosemary! 

Linda nudged Ingrid with her elbow, and the shapely, older teen-ager turned, 
too, to watch the salacious spectacle in a lewdly fascinated horror. 

"Is it... Rosemary?" whispered Ingrid. 

"Yes!" said Linda. 

"God!" gasped Ingrid. 

Both pretty young girls could not draw their lustfully gaping eyes away; and 
the forbidden excitement of watching the cruel sodomy set their own 
palpitating adolescent vaginas into an automatic, hungry undulation which 
the fingers dipping into them could scarcely satisfy. 

Vance was quick to perceive the change coming over the girls. He walked a 
few paces away from the obscenely impaled Rosemary to stare at the two 
half-naked adolescents, who sat on the mattress undulating their firm 
youthful hips with their short skirts pushed up, long white legs abandonedly 
spread, nakedly parted cunts glistening wet. Linda's cunt was covered with a 
sparse blonde shield of pubic hair and this particularly attracted Vance - 
natural blondes were rare - who studied the way her parted legs, having been 
spread far outward by her eager partner. Ingrid's exposed pussy mound was 
covered with the standard black hair, but it too was tight, and in her case 
Vance could clearly see the small, elastic-like vaginal entrance hungrily 
grasping the extended middle finger which fucked in and out of its soft warm 
opening. 

A good pair, these young two! The sex-group organizer thought. They would 
make a good film. But Vance had become more excited than usual looking at 
the two quickly acquiescing girls, to say nothing of witnessing their cousin 
Rosemary's tight, impaled rectum waving back and forth on Clark's huge 
sodomizing penis in the next booth. He was too hotly excited to make the 
film himself - he wanted instead to get into the wild action. Rarely had he 
seen such ripely tender young girls. 

"Charley," he said to a circle member returning from the showers, "there's 
my camera in the corner. It's loaded. Make a film, will you, of what goes on 
in this booth." 

"Right, Vance," agreed Charley, retrieving the camera and standing unnoticed 
at a slight distance from the unsuspecting girls, ready to begin. The girls 
- still staring at Rosemary in a passionately excited horror - did not even 
notice the cameraman. They were not aware that anyone would make an obscene 
film insuring their continuing membership in the orgiastic, sex-circle. 

Vance hurriedly lowered his pants, and heads throughout the room turned - no 
one had ever seen the group leader naked before. No one, that is, except his 
favorite Rosemary. Vance was so uncontrollably stimulated he'd dropped his 
usual cool decorum. 

"Suck it!" he commanded to sixteen-year-old Linda, impatiently slapping his 
hard little penis against her cheek. 

Linda jerked her widened blue eyes up to Vance in surprise. She saw the 
aroused, middle-aged man staring at her exposed, blonde-fringed cunt - and 
his short, thick penis directly and pungently beneath her nose - and blushed 
feverishly with shame. 

"Wh-wh-what?" she quivered, fearfully. 

"Come, take my cock in your mouth and do as you're told," Vance said, 
frenziedly slapping it again against Linda's blushing cheek. There was a 
drop of clear male lubricant on the end of the passion-stiffened penis and 
the exotic pungent smell made Linda's nostrils flare slightly. 

"I... I don't know what you mean!" she said. 

'Then learn!" snarled the exasperated Vance. He pinched her nostrils sharply 
together with his thumb and forefinger; in a moment she reflexively opened 
her sensuous, full-lipped mouth to breathe - and the older man slid his 
pulsing cock into it, feeling it slide over her soft red lips, gyrating 
slightly over the brittleness of her white young teeth, burrowing against 
her fleshy tongue until the lust-inflamed tip reached all the way back to 
the enticing moist warmth where her throat began. 

"Do it!" Vance commanded. The girl looked up at him with pleading eyes, 
mouth bloated and her lips wrapped oval-shaped around his cock. But it was 
no use - Vance put one hand behind her head to hold her firmly and then 
began sawing his hips back and forth deep into Linda's young butter-like 
mouth, ignoring the frightened girl's stifled groans. All the while her 
original excitedly watching male partner continued fingering her moistened, 
splayed-out cunt which was still - despite Vance's forced cock-sucking - 
aching with lascivious pleasure. 

Yet suddenly, regretfully, the finger-fucking hand slid away from her 
throbbing cunt. Linda raised her eyes in impassioned disappointment to her 
partner. Oh no! she thought, suddenly sick deep within; for she saw her 
other middle-aged partner hastily pulling off his trousers, his underpants, 
kicking off his shoes. Oh no! Not the same as the girl in the film, please 
not! But already she felt the man's hands gripping firmly on her knees. 
Vance stepped aside, forcing Linda to turn her head to continue the wet 
tonguing of his pulsating cock while, at the same time, allowing the other 
man to kneel quickly between her trembling young legs. 

She was excited, and she did come to the sex-party expecting to do 
something, but yet having her virginity removed in this strange obscene way 
did not seem right. No, not with Vance stuffing his enormously thick penis 
into her sucking mouth and holding her head so close to it she could 
scarcely breathe; no, not with so many lewdly gaping people around to watch 
her impending ravishment; it just didn't seem right. Yet... it was 
happening... Oh God! Now there were fingers sliding up and down her 
fearfully quivering inner thighs. 

The heatedly throbbing head of the man's penis burrowed into the hair 
covered lips of her virginal cunt as he firmly held her knees forced wide 
apart. The rubbery, blood-inflated head pressed slightly forward to part her 
pussy lips, and then with the help of the man's groping hand, found the 
tight virginal entrance and centered itself directly upon it. Linda closed 
her eyes, not wanting to watch any of it - not the wetly glistening cock 
slamming in and out of her wide-stretched mouth and not the stranger in back 
of her kneeling between her wide-parted legs who was about to brutally take 
away her virginity. She clenched her virginal cuntal muscle tightly shut; 
they couldn't fuck her in this depraved way. .. she wouldn't permit them. 

"Aaaaaggh!" she groaned - the long, stone-hard cock had begun to press 
insistently against her small, resisting vaginal opening. 

The man flexed his buttocks and leaned forward with nearly all his heavy 
weight; until this moment he hadn't realized the young teen-age girl was 
still a virgin, but with the amount of resistance that her tight little cunt 
was putting up it was plainly evident he was going to rip a hymen. The 
thought goaded him beyond reason and he bore down still more. Then suddenly 
- the vainly resisting little opening gave. The tight elastic ring popped 
open with a quick unexpected snap, and the huge blood-filled head slipped 
wetly inside with a sudden strong rush that left the besieged adolescent 
screaming in pain. 

"Aaaaaaggggghhhhh!" she flailed her head wildly, nearly forcing Vance's 
eagerly thrusting cock from her mouth. Oh God! 

Never had she suspected it would be this painful. 

As she struggled, the man behind her gripped her knees tightly forcing her 
to remain in position. He felt her wetly heated cuntal walls slipping over 
his throbbing rigidity like hot melted butter, and his head fell loosely 
back as his excited loins buffeted forward and his thickened, rock-hard cock 
speared into the helplessly struggling girl without mercy. It raced into her 
like a fast whirling drill boring through the depths of the earth, cruelly 
battering and smashing all before it in great receding waves of warm moist 
flesh. Suddenly his pelvis smacked tight into her painfully trembling thighs 
from behind with a loud slap that reverberated through the room. Linda's 
incoherent moans of pain went unheeded as his long hard cock sank deep to 
its full pulsating length up inside of her quivering little belly; she felt 
the relentlessly surging hardness suddenly pressed tight against the 
cushiony end of her cervix. 

She was had now, all right, there was no reason to struggle or fight 
anymore, she was no longer a virgin and her tightly encasing cunt could 
never be anymore stuffed than it was at this moment. Her naked young body 
went limp, all resistance gone, as she felt the man's greedily clenching 
hands come down under her buttocks. As he lifted up on them, she slowly 
began to rotate her hips, only experimentally at first to see if it might 
lessen the pain, but then later in order to take part in the lewd motions of 
the forced sex act. Now that the pain was not getting worse, but instead 
subsiding, the aphrodisiac and the prurient stimulation of the evening's 
orgiastic activities took priority; she moved her naked young buttocks back 
against the man's stiffly pumping cock in slow, lust-inciting circles just 
as she had seen in the movie. After all, with nothing more to lose, why not? 
she thought. 

Just a few feet away on the mattress the older, peroxide-blonde Ingrid had 
been quick to notice what was taking place, and she'd been so passionately 
enthralled that she'd unzipped her partner's fly and gone inside for his 
lust-swollen cock, stroking it and then kissing it into even greater 
stiffness. The man was quick to take command of the lust-provoking situation 
and stripped the curvaceous young girl completely naked and had her kneel up 
on all fours. He intended to pump his long hardened penis into her tight 
young cunt from behind, from a position where he could simultaneously watch 
her virginal girl friend's impalement, and over the partition, Rosemary's 
sodomistic humiliation by Vance's moronic servant. Ingrid's body was so 
voluptuously exciting that the man leaned forward to play with her ripely 
swaying breasts, slapping the dancing white mounds against one another and 
kneading their soft warm pliancy with his fingers. Then he ran one hand down 
over her tautly curving belly and parted the extreme upper part of her 
hair-lined cunt to find her tiny throbbing clitoris. He pinched the aroused 
little bud, then dipped his outstretched middle finger nearer to her 
buffeting vaginal opening to retrieve some lubricant and then smeared it on 
the twitching clitoris, feeling it palpitate and expand heatedly in 
response. 

If the lust-incited, drugged blonde teenager needed any more encouragement 
to fuck for all she was worth, this thoughtful massaging of her sensitively 
pulsating clitoris was it. She felt the delicious sensations course through 
her entire body, merging with the half-painful, half-pleasurable reactions 
to the man's other hand which flicked back and forth over her stiffened pink 
nipples and squeezed her painfully full breasts, competing also with the 
strong ripples of excitement coming from his jack-hammering cock. 

She began to twirl her hips, shaking them violently side-to-side to increase 
the tantalizing hard pressure of his cock on the sides of her clasping 
vaginal walls. She backed her firm young buttocks up to him on the 
in-strokes to speed the approach of his lust-swollen cockhead against the 
end of her cervix and to feel the sharp warm slap of his cum-filled balls 
against her wide-spread ass-cheeks. Ingrid loved it, loved it more than any 
of the several fucks she had had before in her young life, and she had to 
fight hard to avoid cumming immediately, for she wanted to prolong it as 
long as possible. 

"Don't do that up there," she said to her partner, pushing his hand away 
from her hotly tingling clitoris. "It hurts," she lied; the truth was if he 
had left it there for another stimulating instant she would have cum! Now, 
clenching her virginal muscles and exercising her will power to the fullest, 
she could prolong the lewd pleasure. 

Her partner was an experienced man, and he knew well that the young girl was 
reduced to a raw, passionate pulp of insane desire and as ready to cum as a 
cocked pistol was ready to shoot. He noticed Vance's friend standing beside 
him recording the lurid scene on color film, and he slowed his long hard 
strokes to keep the highly excitable girl from cumming and to extend his own 
pleasure, simultaneously motioning the camera closer. 

He was an old circle member and used to being filmed, and he didn't mind as 
the camera lens moved in close to film the rippling pink flesh of the girl's 
wantonly palpitating vagina. It would be a good movie, he thought, this hot 
little bitch's young cunt so hungrily grasping around his pistoning cock, 
little furrows of her vaginal flesh rippling in and out of the small 
entrance like waves, drops of excited white secretions seeping out of her 
youthful cunt with each new stroke. The man spread the cheeks of Ingrid's 
wildly rotating buttocks farther apart, and the camera recorded exactly how 
the impassioned girl's hungry cunt swallowed and sucked at his deeply 
fucking cock. 

Then the camera swung away, moving all the way around to the blonde's 
lust-contorted face, recording it in full so that there would be no doubt 
that this was Ingrid fucking in such an aphrodisiacal frenzy, no doubt of 
the film's potential for blackmail if Ingrid ever doubted her membership in 
the sex-circle. The older teenager's face was tightly contracted, her eyes 
rolling upward, as if in excruciating pain, although what Ingrid was feeling 
was not pain at all - her face convulsed so extremely because of the effort 
she was making to hold back her climax, to tone down her sensual 
super-sensitivity so that she could have more of this depraved fucking. 

A passing circle member tapped on the cameraman's shoulder. "Want a sixth?" 
he asked. "Yeah. Why not?" said the cameraman. The passing circle member was 
already naked. He stroked his eagerly jerking cock into a greater hardness 
and then kneeled on the mattress directly before Ingrid's face. Her 
passion-dimmed eyes did not even notice him. 

"Want a lollipop, honey?" the man asked. 

Ingrid lowered her glance, saw the stiffly erected cock before her, and 
smiled in delight while the camera continued whirring away capturing her 
grateful reaction. She answered the man in kind. 

"Need a suck, big boy?" 

"Only as a favor to you, you hot little cunt," the man grinned. Ingrid's 
reaction was immediate: she took his impatiently waiting cock deep into her 
warm wet mouth, bobbed her head back and forth on it for several tight 
clasping strokes so that the man thought she really wanted to suck him and 
consequently relaxed. And then she bit into it with all her might! 

"Aaaaaaaaaggggh! Christ, stop it, stop it!" the man said. 

She stopped, having made her point. It seemed to the man that her soft 
sensuous lips, distorted as they were from grasping his penis, smiled 
mockingly up at him. Snarling, he rammed his painfully throbbing cock deep 
in her throat, his sperm-bloated balls smacking hard up against her chin. He 
would show the little bitch who was boss, by God! 

The camera recorded all of it for posterity. 

Once Ingrid was sucking his long thick cock in a regular pumping motion, 
without any more biting, the man shifted his position slightly so that he 
could reach over and fondle Linda's breasts. In this way he formed a 
connecting link between the two groups - Ingrid thirstily sucking his cock 
while another man fucked her accepting vagina from behind, as he himself 
fondled Linda's quivering breasts. Vance was still slamming his short thick 
penis in and out of Linda's wetly ovalled lips, and the other man was 
fucking Linda at a fevered staccato pitch to which the younger teenager 
responded in lewd circular gyrations. 

There were six people on the mattress - two wantonly writhing teenage girls 
and four men. The camera circled around and around the group, ensuring that 
the faces of both ravished girls were given lots of footage, and that the 
entire cluster's lustfully orgiastic activities were well recorded for 
Vance's own private enjoyment. The lewd orgy had now progressed to the point 
that it was difficult to distinguish between the different naked bodies 
locked in a chain and taking enjoyment from each other. The group itself had 
a sort of life now apart from the excited individuals within it, and each 
person instinctively knew it. The entire obscenely intertwined group was now 
in such an explosive condition that the tiniest match could set it off. 

This impetus was provided by Vance. 

His wildly excited penis began to jerk spasmodically in Linda's ovalled 
young mouth as jets of his sticky white hot cum spurted frenziedly into 
Linda's throat; to keep from choking Linda as she swallowed, which produced 
a drawing suction within her contracting mouth causing Vance still greater 
joy. 

"Oooooohhhhh," he sighed, "Jesus, is it good. God! Ooooohhhhhh!" 

The young teenager came up between the group leader's legs with her hand and 
cradled his erupting balls, squeezing them gently as though to get more of 
the shooting sperm, while she continued sucking and swallowing hungrily, 
long strings of the viscous liquid trailing from her overflowing mouth and 
down her gulping white throat. Vance seemed to have an inexhaustible supply 
of sperm, and her cheeks bloated and hollowed as the warm, working cavern of 
her mouth filled and emptied, filled and emptied, while she swallowed 
desperately the pulsating cum spewing into it. 

At the same time the man fucking into Linda's tight little cunt felt a gush 
of warmth around his thick pistoning cock as her orgasmic juices began to 
flow out from around the edges of his deeply embedded penis and down onto 
his emptying testicles. 

Linda was cumming too, and she groaned out her ecstatic release as she 
continued her now uncontrolled gnawing on Vance's slowly deflating cock 
above. Linda's partner clenched his eyes tightly shut and felt his 
cum-filled balls begin to wildly erupt. His super heated sperm spurted like 
a fire hose through the end of his deep driving cock and squirted far up 
into the kneeling teenager's tightly convulsing vagina. He ground his pelvis 
around to dig the exploding head deeper and deeper into her hot little pussy 
and savor the last throbbing moments. 

As Linda helplessly whimpered out the last throes of her orgasm, she groaned 
and dropped her head sideways, strings of hot sperm still lewdly connecting 
her face to Vance's withdrawn penis. Her other partner held his bursting 
loins close to hers, digging into the pliant flesh of her smooth firm 
buttocks to push her up to him as tightly as possible, until the last of his 
streaming cum was buried deep in her no longer virginal cunt, and then he 
slid his deflating cock gradually out of the wet, flooded hole of her 
cum-filled vagina. As soon as the man moved away, the camera zoomed greedily 
in to record the girl's passion-drenched vagina and the trails of their 
commingled juices flowing down her wearily trembling young thighs. 

It was all too much for Ingrid, who had been holding her orgasm back for 
some minutes now, and her lust-secretions gushed all in an instant from her 
wetly palpitating vagina around the thick cock of the man fucking into her 
so deeply from behind. The kneeling blonde girl undulated her convulsing 
vaginal mound in buttock-wagging motions to get the most vaginal contact 
from the hard strokes which coincided thrillingly with her orgasm; and these 
very strokes set off her desire-crazed partner who ejaculated deep up inside 
her wildly clasping cunt in gush after gush of churning semen. The camera 
moved in to record this too - the fully debased, violated condition of 
Ingrid's wetly glistening cunt - as soon as the man withdrew. 

The sixth person took only a moment longer. Ingrid during the throes of her 
orgasm had clamped tightly down on the cock she was so hungrily sucking and 
had twirled her tongue around and around on the sensitive part of his cocks 
head in an abandoned, automatic reaction to the orgasming excitement she was 
getting from behind. This set the man off, but Ingrid, in her excitement 
from her vaginal orgasm, jerked so violently that her mouth pulled away from 
the man's cock just as he began cumming. His hotly spewing sperm splashed on 
her forehead and cheeks and ran in lewd streams down her face. Putting her 
hand to her chin, she smeared the warm white sperm down to her mouth where 
she lapped it up, so hot was she, so anxious to consume the very last dregs 
of this forbidden orgy which had so turned her on. 

Similar scenes were taking place throughout the room, with the exception 
that they were not being filmed. Vance's cameraman filmed away until all six 
satiated bodies lay collapsed on the couch exhausted, only dimly aware of 
what was going on elsewhere in the room. 

On the screen the Indian girl was being sandwiched between the man's penis 
in her tight young cunt and the man embedded to the hilt in her rectum, and 
with a third male thrusting in her mouth. Suddenly she reached out her hands 
and the camera revealed two more eagerly squatting men, one on each side, so 
that she could fondle their stiffly erected cocks with her hands ... and 
then it was a five-way fuck ... one 13 year old Indian girl on her knees and 
five males . . . 

Vance was recovering himself - recovering also his desire - and he avidly 
studied the film. It was one of his favorites. 

No one knew, of course, that he had personally made it in the course of his 
travels. He had found the innocent young girl and paid her father less than 
ten dollars; he had found the grass plateau, hired guards to ensure that the 
filming would not be disturbed, and hired for pennies the five men the girl 
was fucking. The Indian girl had been an excellent choice - a real virgin 
and just child-like enough to present a stark contrast to the grown men 
possessing her. And yet, she was strong enough to consume them, to devour 
and satisfy them without damaging herself. It was quite a sight to see her 
now raising her slender young arms up and down like a bird trying to take 
off as she massaged the erect, blood-filled penises of the two men squatting 
anxiously at her sides, while simultaneously she bobbed her head back and 
forth on the pulsating hardness impaling her widely ovalled mouth. That 
alone would have been enough for any girl, but this one was also moving her 
small, rounded buttocks up and down like an oil rig, in a by now 
well-established lewd collaboration with the two men sandwiching her 
virginal cunt and equally virginal anus. She lowered her little white belly 
as the man below her pumped up into her hotly clasping pussy; then she 
raised her girlish, white hips up against the man reaming into her 
forever-stretched rectum. It was clear that she was masochistically enjoying 
all of this abuse, though she had not at the start; somewhere in the process 
the dramatic change had occurred. This girl was taking five violently 
aroused men and being filmed at it, and for money; given that, and given 
those five long shafts of male flesh stuffed into her helpless openings to 
the very hilt, she might as well enjoy it. 

It was incredible how long the brutally abused girl kept it up, and with 
what insane relish. The camera now far enough moved away to show the 
strange, perverted forms and patterns the gyrating participants made. The 
group looked like a fantastic, well-oiled machine, of which the girl was the 
central, key moving part. She had coordinated the raising of her hips with 
the lowering of her mouth on the cock she was quickly sucking, so that her 
nakedly arched body rocked back and forth on her stomach as though she were 
the rocker of a rocking chair. When she rocked forward she took the 
lust-thickened cock deep into her hungrily sucking mouth and her elevating 
young buttocks vigorously met the squirming loins of the penis sunk so 
deeply in her rectum. Then she rocked back, receding from the long, 
blood-inflated shaft in her mouth, receding also from the cock buried deep 
up in her rectum in order to firmly meet the lust-thickened penis fucking 
into her cunt. All the while her hands stroked massagingly over the stiff, 
upright cocks of the two remaining men at her sides. All regular as a 
well-tuned machine! It was amazing, Vance reflected, that the film had come 
off so well. 

And still more amazing was that he'd brought it all off with Rosemary. She 
was getting Clark in her virginal rectum and that was the ultimate abuse 
that Vance could demand of her. He turned his back on the film to see the 
progress of the cruel sodomy. It was clear that Rosemary was anxious to end 
the painful, obscene ceremony, so anxious that she was pretending to enjoy 
it. She hungrily followed the idiot's out-strokes with her nakedly uplifting 
buttocks as though desperate to retain the sodomizing penis in her rectum, 
and on the in-strokes she twirled her ass cheeks back onto Clark's wildly 
thrusting penis. Yet her expression was so neutral and grim that Vance - 
knowing well her strong character - could tell she was faking. She was 
trying to make Clark think - or feel - that she lasciviously liked it, in 
order to end her humiliating agony. Vance felt cheated - and he was by no 
means a man who could be easily cheated. 

He paced back and forth before the obscenely copulating couple. Clark seemed 
capable of continuing forever. Other couples - done with their own salacious 
activities or else just drawn to Rosemary's piercing animal-like groans - 
began to gather in a little heated cluster around Vance to watch the 
muscular barman pounding into Rosemary's defenselessly flailing buttocks. 

What can I do? Vance wondered, so drawn into his contemplation of subjugated 
Rosemary that he forgot he was revealingly naked in the presence of others, 
and that his short penis was again erect. Should I make a film? No - Vance 
had a kind of honor, and that would be breaking it. No ... no, he would do 
something else. He would give Rosemary a sort of final good-bye . .. 

In the brief period of his conniving thoughts a change had come over 
Rosemary. Her grim expression had been replaced by one of authentic 
licentious enjoyment, and her wild buffeting back and forth on Clark's huge, 
wetly glistening penis had speeded up still more. She was no longer faking; 
no - amazingly - she was now actually enjoying it! Enjoying being sodomized 
by the sexually aroused idiot! Vance took note of how much secretions her 
wetly excited cunt was spewing down her sleek inner thighs. 

"Clark," Vance said. The lust-maddened idiot fucked on, not hearing him or 
not caring to. 

"Clark!" the group leader repeated. 

The muscle-bound servant turned his head slightly to meet Vance's eyes, but 
so intense was his lewd excitement that his cock continued plummeting 
steadily in and out of Rosemary's wildly rotating buttocks in the same 
tempo. 

"Turn her over, Clark, turn her over!" 

her fairly shouted at the preoccupied imbecile. 

Clark, barely hearing Vance's pleas, locked his brute's hands tightly to 
Rosemary's upthrusting hips and rolled to the side, pulling her nakedly 
voluptuous body backwards on top of him. His huge, throbbing cock was still 
sunk deep inside her clinging rectum as she lay full length on her back 
tight against his heaving stomach and chest. Her wantonly trembling thighs 
were splayed on the outside of his legs, a low pleading mewl coming from her 
wet, tortured lips. "Fuck me . . . keep fucking, Clark. Oh God! You can't 
stop now!" 

The domineering group leader lost no time. He leaped excitedly over between 
Rosemary's widespread legs, straddling Clark's knees and pushed her 
frantically quivering thighs farther apart still. Vance grasped his hard, 
thickly aching cock in his hands and guided it without a moment's delay deep 
up into the moist open cavern of her waiting young pussy. 

"Oooooooooh," she groaned as his thick shaft of hot male flesh slithered 
deep up inside her cock-hungry belly, joining Clark's long, distended penis 
already buried there in her penis-impaled rectum. She lay moaning and 
sobbing from the pain and the humiliation, the terrible shame of being 
cruelly sandwiched between the two of them, skewered helplessly between 
their two lust-driven cocks, with only the thin wall of flesh between her 
rectum and cunt separating the two wildly throbbing shafts. 

There was no delay! The excited host was already so excited from watching 
Clark's cruel abuse of her tight virginal anus that he began to furiously 
fuck into her warmly moistened pussy, while Clark beneath began thrusting up 
with long hard strokes into the hot rubbery depth of her rectum. It took a 
moment, but then the two men began a natural, coordinated rhythm, a depraved 
rhythm of buffeting Rosemary between them like a sack of soft resilient foam 
rubber. She was uttering a single low whine which went on and on all the 
time they fucked into her, interrupted only occasionally by a deep grunt 
from her pain-contorted lips as they smacked into her naked young body with 
harder and harder force. 

The two teenagers, Linda and Ingrid had joined the small eagerly watching 
crowd clustered around this unusual and sadistic scene. Linda watched 
mesmerized, her eyes a scant few feet from where the two thick cocks 
skewered into Rosemary's wide-stretched loins like twin battering rams. Her 
widened lust-dimmed eyes watched the wetly glistening penises - slamming in, 
pulling out... slamming in . .. 

She could see the fluted pink edges of her cousin's cunt drawing out with 
Vance's unusually thick cock on the outstroke and disappearing smoothly back 
inside as he rammed it home again deep up in her subjugated belly. The same 
was true with the tightly clasping opening of her wide-stretched anus as the 
idiot Clark screwed up into it from below with an animal fury. 

On and on it went as Rosemary experienced a strange kind of masochistic joy, 
perhaps from the very helplessness of her position or from the lewd, obscene 
thought of being fucked half to death by two men at once like this. Or by 
the realization that, when this was done, she would at long last be free. 
Whatever it was, she felt it, and all watching her could clearly see she 
felt it. 

The young wife's hips began to move backwards to meet the upthrust of 
Clark's penis cramming into her tender young rectum and then forward again 
to quickly swallow the whole of Vance's thick plunging cock up into her 
steaming pussy. Her whole voluptuous body undulated now between the two 
building excited men, and her naked white buttocks pumped like a run away 
machine in tiny abandoned circles. 

"Oooooh, oooooooh, ooooooooooh," she chanted on and on in time to their deep 
crushing thrusts against her helpless cunt and rectum. Wilder and wilder 
they became, unmercilessly punishing her between them like a puppet. All 
three of their lewdly aroused groans intermingled in a symphony of mad 
sexual abandonment. 

Rosemary screamed first. 

"Aaaaaaaaagh," and then a longer one. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaggggggh! Oh God, keep on 
... keep on! I'm cuummmmmmm -mmmmiiinnng!" 

The ravished young wife was out of her mind with masochistic desire now and 
began sobbing out her wildly mounting orgasm that seemed to go on and on. 
The men, sensing their total conquest of her body and mind, both plunged 
forward at the same time embedding their suddenly ejaculating cocks deep 
into her pussy and anus and wildly pumped their hot male sperm far, far up 
into her heaving belly. 

Finally, they collapsed in a spent and satiated heap for a moment. Vance 
rolled from off the top of Rosemary's limp body, his penis, still thick and 
hard in spite of his orgasm, slipping gradually from her warm, 
wide-stretched cunt with a wet sucking noise that could be heard the full 
length of the room. Rosemary lay still, flat on her back on top of the huge 
panting Clark. His slowly deflating cock was still embedded far up in her no 
longer virginal anus, and she looked as though she were in a mindless daze. 
She lay there, atop an almost unconscious Clark, not thinking, not feeling 
... 

Vance, dressed again, remembered Clark. 

"O.K., Clark, she's had enough now," he said, standing over the couple to 
make his authority more obvious. 

The dull-witted servant pushed Rosemary's smoothly flaring hips straight up 
in the air with his hands until the end of his satiated cock slipped from 
her tightly clasping rectum, an obscene lewd pop of rushing air sounding 
throughout the room. As the idiotic muscle man scooped up his clothes and 
went back to the bar, the others returned to their various booths, many 
combining in threes to duplicate the prurient scene Rosemary, Vance, and 
Clark had so passionately demonstrated. The two teenage girls Ingrid and 
Linda took part in such a cluster of strange, unknown lovers, being 
willingly buffeted back and forth like limp rag dolls until their various 
partners had spurted the last of their white hot sperm deep up into their 
widely expanded twin passages. 

But for Rosemary, the evening was done - and so were, she hoped to God, all 
such evenings. She eventually dressed and sat with her eyes and teeth 
clenched tightly shut, trying to ignore the salacious sounds and sights 
still going on throughout the infernal room dedicated to utter 
lasciviousness; she tried to forget, to bury, the shame of what she had 
endured and - God help her! - had even encouraged tonight. 

As she left, with the cans of film under her arms, she looked back just once 
toward the two innocent young girls she had tricked into taking her place in 
the circle. 

Then, tears streaming down her face, raced out into the night. .. toward 
freedom . .. and home . .. and a new life, without fear, with Kevin! 


End
