The Promiscuous Roommate
[aka 'The Girlfriend's Boyfriend']
by Allen Chase


FOREWORD 

It is with immense pride that we, The Publishers, introduce The Promiscuous 
Roommate, by Allen Chase. It has been a long time since one woman's climb to 
position and the exorbitant price she paid for success have been portrayed 
so honestly, so fearlessly, and with such deep penetrating wisdom. 

This is not the first time that the theme of ambition has been used as the 
basis of a novel. There have been many books based on this topic in the 
past. Yet, we feel that the pages presented herein portray a unique 
situation: here, a woman is shown denying morality for the sake of success, 
and we witness her downfall in painful detail as though we, ourselves, had 
encountered her in real life. With unflagging truthfulness and frankness, 
The Promiscuous Roommate outlines the sacrifices of personal relationships 
that Jill Marlin must make in order to gain a privileged position at the 
publishing company where she is employed. We witness the slow disintegration 
of her values, and watch as her peers, many of whom have already undergone 
the same frightful Faustian transformation, contribute to her demise. 

If there is a moral message in this book, it lies beneath the superstructure 
of the corporate world which Mr. Chase depicts with such startling candor. 
In the midst of big business transactions, the individual no longer seems to 
have the power nor the will to assert himself, preferring to make ethical 
compromises for the sake of overweening ambition, rather than to act 
according to conscience. The central metaphor or symbol in this work is, of 
course, the machine, which seems to have co-opted the "human" in human 
beings and bent it to some inscrutable technological will of its own. Wilbur 
Kinsby, the strange reclusive publisher, embodies the identity of this 
machine-culture, illustrated in almost graphic Freudian detail, and through 
his actions shows the phenomena of transference of sexuality from the 
physical body to a mindless object. 

All the other characters have become, without knowing it, cogs in the great 
corporate wheel, symbolized by Kinsby's sex-machine. The only function as 
long as they serve and are manipulated efficiently by the machine. When they 
are no longer attractive, or no longer fit the company's "image" they are 
thrown out into the cold, as happens to Randi Jordan. 

In an age where the race for success and the concomitant problems this wild 
scramble for power presents to those who are either caught up in the 
struggle or are trampled by those who charge inexorably forward, this novel 
contains a message of universal importance. Sex, once a loving act of mutual 
tenderness between consenting partners, becomes a game of corporate chess, 
and the pawns, as unlikely as it may seem, are all of us. 

We welcome Mr. Chase's candid portrayal of the dilemmas faced by a large 
segment of our society. Because he has chosen characters with whom most of 
us can identify, we are also grateful for the sympathy and compassion of his 
presentation. 

-The Publishers 

 CHAPTER ONE 

"There is no fourteenth floor, Miss," The short elevator boy cast a leering 
glance at the petite, shapely brunette stepping into the lift. 

Jill Marlin looked from the acned face of the boy to the row of elevator 
buttons on the aluminum-corrugated wall of the elevator. Soft Musak was 
pumped through a ventilation slot behind the bellboy, and seemed to resound 
from the top of his blue Phillip Morris cap. 

"I want to go to the fourteenth floor," she repeated, shifting her. hands 
nervously from her pocketbook to her small luggage case. 

She was glad she'd brought all her things in the elevator with her, as she'd 
heard so many stories about thefts in New York. Besides, she would have felt 
almost naked without the two suitcases she'd been traveling with by bus and 
plane all day. Now, as the obscene little bellboy appraised her full, firm 
breasts while he tried to joke with her, she felt a sudden desire to break 
into a hot flush of tears. 

"Ain't you new in this building, Miss?" the boy said matter-of-factly as the 
elevator began its ascent. 

"This is my first day in New York." She was still out of breath. 

"You need any pointers, you know the fella to come to. I know this goddamn 
city like the back of my hand." 

"Thank you, but I think I'll do just fine on my own," she nervously replied, 
trying to pull as far across the small rising cubicle as possible, still 
feeling the lewdly searching glance of the boy's eyes burning up and down 
her body. 

"That's what they all say," the lift slowed down and the doors opened and 
closed again. It was the fifth floor; they still had nine more to go. The 
boy dropped his eyes from the provocatively jutting twin peaks of her 
breasts to Jill's miniskirted thighs. "It ain't too long until most chicks 
get to feeling lonely, and then ol' slim Jimmy," he laughed hoarsely, "goes 
into action!" 

A heavy weight seemed to drop into Jill's tensed, tight little belly. 
Suddenly, it was the fourteenth floor and she was stepping from the 
elevator, wondering if she should tip the boy, but he was following her down 
the hall, mumbling beneath his breath. 

"You living in with Randi?" he dropped her bags at the end of the hall, 
turning to her. 

"Femme Magazine arranged this place for me. I'm supposed to have a 
roommate." She waited anxiously for him to unlock the door. 

"That's Randi, all right," he fumbled in his pocket for a master-set of 
keys. "She's a winner, a real goddamn winner." 

He flung the door open and moved ahead of the petite brunette into the 
living room. 

"It's a lovely apartment," Jill said, relieved, though she hadn't actually 
looked around. 

"If ya don't mind... " the bellboy stood across from her, his eyes taking in 
the lush curves of her youthfully voluptuous body, "I gotta go. Normally, I 
don't do no porter work." 

Jill was dropping her handbag to the couch and then raising the drawn blinds 
to let some light from the park into the modernistically-furnished living 
room. 

"I said," the small uniformed figure came up behind her, "normally I don't 
do no porter work!" 

She turned, jerking back as she inadvertently bumped into the slight figure 
whose face came within short eye level distance of her firm cantalouped 
breasts. 

"I suppose you want a tip. That's what you're waiting for, isn't it?" she 
said, abstracted for a moment. 

"I get a buck-fifty an hour. That don't include favors," he said smugly. 

"How much do you usually get?" 

"I take anything. I ain't particular," he shrugged. 

Jill fumbled in her purse and found a quarter. She gave it to the boy and 
waited for him to depart, but he just stood there, his limpid brown eyes 
glued to her curvaceous young body. "You know what that gets me in New 
York?" he looked down at the coin in his hand. "It might pay for half a cup 
of coffee!" 

She fished another quarter from her handbag. "This should be enough. I 
haven't even started work yet. I really don't have much money," she smiled 
courteously. 

"You ever met Randi?" the boy slouched against the door. 

"No. Is she nice?" Jill fidgeted uncomfortably, waiting for him to leave. 

"That ain't the proper description," he grinned lecherously. "She's a real 
swinger. When Randi's not working she'll either be down at the singles' bars 
on Third Avenue, or up here having herself a time." 

"How do you know all this?" 

The boy thrust his thumbs into his lapel. 

"Word gets around. I got a sharp eye for details. You notice a lot when you 
work the elevators." Jill's head ached and her body was yearning for a cool, 
soothing bath, but for some reason the boy wouldn't go. She wanted to tell 
him to leave, but her reserved, mid-western temperament just wouldn't permit 
her to be quite that rude. He stood slackly by the door, making a quick 
reappraisal of her body, and then glanced across the wide carpeted living 
room to the window overlooking Central Park. 

"You and Randi should get along real well. She'll teach ya things ya 
couldn't learn any place else," he said in a lewd, insinuating voice. 

Jill dropped to the sofa across the room from him. "Would it be too much to 
ask you to leave?" she said weakly. "I'm really bushed from the plane ride!" 

"At your service," he saluted, and turned into the hallway. 

Jill breathed a sigh of relief, but suddenly, he was at the open door again. 
"If there's anything ya need, just give me a call. Ask for Jimmy, all the 
broads know me by my first name." 

The attractive brunette smiled limply as he pirouetted around and went 
whistling tunelessly down the hall. She rose from the couch and closed the 
door, feeling a rush of cool relaxation flow through her at last. The trip 
from Minneapolis had been trying, with three connecting flights and buses 
she'd taken. It was her first real venture away from her mid-western home, 
and the anxiety she'd felt at the outset of her journey had worn off into 
fatiguing listlessness now that she'd finally reached her destination. 

To make matters worse, throughout the trip she'd been ogled at and 
propositioned by one man after another, until she thought she'd break out 
into a desperate scream just to make those obscene-looking men stop 
bothering her. She'd never been aware how lecherous the world seemed to be. 
It was almost as though there was a plot by the entire male population of 
the United States to seduce her... or, at least, to make her feel humiliated 
by the lust-inciting voluptuousness of her lithe young body. 

As she'd spent most of her adolescence and college years in West Lake, 
Minnesota, she really wasn't prepared for the sudden change of going to New 
York to begin a job as a secretary for a Manhattan woman's magazine. Yet, 
she knew she had no choice other than to make a clean break from the past if 
she were to be more independent from her mother and older brother, who had 
insisted she attend college at the small community school at West Lake. 

Jill smiled to herself as she entered the bathroom and began drawing a tub 
of water. She thought less and less of her brother, Franky, and her mother 
as the hours elapsed since they'd seen her off at the airport. She had an 
exciting job beginning tomorrow morning and a new roommate to meet within 
the hour. 

The girl slipped quickly from her clothes and set them on a dressing table 
by the tub, then turned to the full length bathroom mirror and let her eyes 
fall on the reflected image of her lovely young body. 

The fluorescent bathroom light reflected against her creamily smooth 
complexion and glowed in the girl's cascading blue-black hair that framed 
her pretty heart-shaped face. The soft light shone on her nipples and seemed 
to catch and dance on the smoothly uplifting orbs of her large full breasts. 

Jill turned to the side, casting an admiring glance at her voluptuous 
profile. She looked down to her tautly smooth stomach and the girlish arc of 
her slender hourglass waist, her eyes resting on her flaring hips, then 
tracing a casual path across her long curving thighs down to slim, 
well-formed calves that tapered to thin, delicate ankles. She stood poised 
like this for a moment, her classically sculpted young woman's body catching 
the soft pink reflection of bathroom tile in the mirror and exuding a 
luxuriant glow of good health and youthfully ripe female sexuality all its 
own. 

Jill blushed and turned from the mirror, then padded barefoot to the tub. 

The bath was half-filled, and she sat down on its edge and lit a cigarette 
from the pack she'd left on the dressing table. Sometimes she felt uneasy 
and somewhat disturbed about her good looks and wished that she had not been 
endowed with such a lushly ripened body; it just didn't match up with her 
reserved personality. Her cool slate-blue eyes did match, she thought, yet 
even then she had been told they too were beautiful and that her dainty, 
almost classical Greek nose and full ripe mouth with its lower lips 
protruding slightly in an almost perpetual little girl pout added to the 
sensuously teasing picture that had caused her so much trouble on the flight 
this afternoon. 

She hoped it wouldn't create problems for her at Stewart Publications, 
although she felt a tantalizing little shudder when she thought of the 
vicarious fun she might have in showing herself off the first day in the 
office. She knew what made a difference to men and in college had shyly come 
to realize that a show of smooth white thigh or a flirtatious smile to a 
professor wouldn't hurt in getting the A or B she desired. She wondered now 
if office work would require the same subtly compromising attitudes from 
her. Dropping with a slight splash into the deliciously cool water, and 
looking through the shimmering suds she had made with bubble bath, the 
rose-tipped nipples of her breasts almost seemed to answer Jill's question. 

She slid down on the curving tile-bottomed tub, her head resting on the 
porcelain-smooth siding, and raised her legs so that the "vee" up between 
her thighs was exposed, black and silky, through the sudsy water. Her hand 
wandered of its own accord over the gently uplifted breasts, down across her 
submerged, white little belly to the softness of her pubic mound; her 
fingers pressed at it for a teasing moment, circling in a smooth oval over 
the hair-lined cuntal lips, and then slid down to caress her firm full 
thighs. 

It was something she'd learned to do to relax herself at college, and 
although she'd known there was nothing wrong with touching her vagina to 
achieve sensual satisfaction, she still had some puritanical hang-ups about 
it. It was better than losing her virginity, she guessed, but even that 
seemed doubtful to Jill Marlin now... times were changing quickly, and she 
knew fewer and fewer girls her age who hadn't parted with their virginity 
with an enthusiasm that was almost shocking to the restrained young girl. 

It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to make love to her former boy friend she'd 
left behind in West Lake... there was certainly more to it than that. 
Perhaps, because of her judicious, clear-headed nature, she'd held off when 
a totally passionate response to Bill Sorensen had been what was called for. 

As she ran the washcloth over the smooth curves of her body, her mind 
wandered back over the ups and downs of their relationship. Often in 
compromise she would let him reach under her sweater, unfasten her brassiere 
and massage her exposed breasts while they were petting in the living room 
of her mother's darkened house. Once, after her brother and mother had gone 
out for the evening, Bill had caressed her breasts into a warmly tingling 
hardness, had taken one of her nipples in his mouth and sucked. The gentle 
licking of his tongue around it had nearly driven her crazy, and the girl 
had hardly noticed when his hand slipped under her skirt and begun moving up 
between the cream-like whiteness of her thighs. 

She recalled now how she had frozen, her hands clenched down against his 
stone-like chest at that moment. There were just some things she couldn't 
permit Bill to do until she felt prepared to accept some of the more 
animalistic aspects of sex. It was not that she didn't respond. Far from it! 
Jill slid the washcloth up over her hips and then down softly through the 
water, until it covered the raven-black shield of pubic hair spanning in a 
small enticing triangle over the sheath of her vagina. 

She smiled now as she thought of that first passionate night last summer 
with Bill on the living room couch. His hands kept stroking at her, roving 
the full length of her lush young body over the smooth plane of her belly 
and down to the panty covered softness of her pussy hair. It had felt just 
the way her fingers caressing gently at her cuntal mound felt now, but she 
had squirmed, trying to pull away from his relentlessly searching hand, 
though it had been useless. 

Finally, Bill had wormed his outstretched middle finger beneath the tight 
elastic leg band of her panties and found her warmly moist vaginal slit. His 
searching finger had caused a heated tingling sensation she had never 
experienced before, and she had pushed her buttocks down on the couch in an 
effort to escape, but that seemed to have driven Bill on further. 

Even now the memory of that night, innocent as it seemed in reflection, sent 
chills of quivering pleasure mixed with an odd repugnance through her spine. 
She had protested, but he'd paid no attention to her; and she recalled the 
metallic sound of his zipper being released and the sudden sensation of his 
hotly throbbing penis against her naked thigh. 

That had been the first time she had ever experienced the touch of a man's 
cock and it had momentarily alarmed her... still alarmed her when she 
thought about it, as there had been few times during this summer when she 
and Bill had been so close. She had pulled away, but then his hands had 
rushed to her own, thrusting them around his massively pulsating flesh and 
forcing them to pull up and down on the long thick shaft. Then his finger 
had inserted itself part way in her moistly quivering cunt, and he had been 
encouraged by the warm wetness that dampened the dark shading of pubic hair 
around her slightly swollen cuntal lips. 

In an instant he had pulled down his slacks, and she recalled now the huge 
profile of his erect cock seen for the first time in the moonlight seeping 
through the living room windows. She remembered how he had risen over her 
and gently but firmly pulled her vainly resisting young thighs apart, then 
thrust the blunted, lust-swollen head beside the partially open leg band of 
her panties until the heatedly pulsating tip rested on the outer flanges of 
her pussy. He had pressed her fingers around his hardened shaft again; 
without thinking, she had adjusted her panties so that her hand fit entirely 
around the rigidly growing rod of hot flesh and she guided it up toward her 
moistly quivering little vaginal opening... 

Jill swirled the washcloth around her cuntal split, splashing water in 
gentle waves against her thighs as she remembered him digging his single 
outstretched finger into her vagina while his long thick cock lay close 
beside, and she recalled how she had lurched back in sudden fear when he 
stretched the fragile ring of her still intact hymen. He had been hunched up 
halfway on top of her, and then he had suddenly tried to roll completely 
over her. But she had clamped her thighs tightly together, trapping his 
rigid shaft of flesh between them, as the thick male organ had inadvertently 
slipped from the warmly moistened threshold of her pussy. Bill eagerly 
pushed forward again, struggling to get the lust-swollen tip into the 
opening of her wetly cringing cunt. Just as he had managed to reinsert the 
head under the leg band of her panties, she felt the hotly pulsating penis 
begin to throb spasmodically out of control. Then she had felt a hot wetness 
flood over her already matted pubic hair and cover her thighs with its thick 
spewing whiteness. 

Jill stopped moving the cloth around her loins now, fearing her excitement 
from these memories of the last days with Bill before the end of the summer. 
It was enough that she'd made up her mind to break up with him; she had 
decided there was no use trying to recapture what had passed between them, 
when what had happened was more like an initiation into womanhood than the 
indelible and as yet unexperienced act of love making itself. 

She stood up in the tub, stepped down onto the soft bath matting in the 
center of the room, and began toweling herself dry. 

Suddenly, she heard a voice. 

"Hello... " the high pitched sound came from the living room. "Jill 
Marlin?... I'm Randi Jordan." 

"Just a moment!" Jill cried, and hurriedly she massaged herself dry and 
stepped into her bathrobe. 

"Take your time, honey. There's no need to rush," the voice was warm and 
friendly, coming now directly outside the door. 

The young brunette stood before the full length mirror and quickly brushed 
out her hair over her smooth sloping shoulders and tightened the belt around 
her waist, adjusting the front of it to fit snugly across the jutting 
contours of her breasts. Jill was understandably nervous at meeting the girl 
she'd be living with and working with for the next few months, and she 
wished somehow she'd waited to take her bath until after Randi had arrived. 

She opened the bathroom door and went into the adjoining living room. 

Randi stood at the center of the white-carpeted room, a cigarette in hand, 
her long platinum-blonde hair flowing in a silvery halo of whiteness over 
her back. 

"Hello, roommate," the girl smiled brightly. "I'm sorry if I interrupted 
your bath." 

"It's all right; I was just relaxing. It was a tiring trip," Jill said, 
drawing her hands across the front of her robe. 

"A drink should help unwind you," the blonde said, moving briskly across the 
living room to a liquor cabinet beside the low-set leather padded couch. 

"That would be nice," Jill said, dropping into a form-fitting vinyl chair 
behind Randi. 

"I suppose you know most of the junk about Femme Magazine," the tall, 
voluptuously well-proportioned blonde said, removing a decanter of Scotch 
from the small bar. 

"I received a letter from Mr. Johnson. He said the magazine is a woman's 
information outlet," Jill said. 

"Exactly," Randi turned slightly from the bar. "We're mainly interested in 
promoting women's consumer items... or, bluntly speaking, advertising for 
the women's market. Occasionally we'll throw in an interesting article on 
Women's Lib or something, but we're pretty heavy on the promotion angle." 

Randi poured two jiggers of Scotch into tumblers she'd set out on a tray and 
clinked some ice cubes into the glasses. The girl was a few years older than 
Jill, and her tall, ripely matured body possessed a self-assurance and 
smooth feminine grace that Jill found almost threatening. And yet, there was 
an outgoing warmth to her personality that offset the brazen, sex-kittenish 
quality of her movements. Although the young brunette felt nervous at their 
first encounter, Randi had obviously mastered the sophisticated pleasantries 
that one acquired after living in New York. There was a sensual ease about 
her that Jill had rarely seen in the college girls she knew back in 
Minnesota. 

"We won't talk about the job now," Randi said, coming up beside Jill and 
handing her a drink. "There'll be enough of that during the coming week." 

Randi sat down on the arm rest of the couch facing the pretty young brunette 
and looked at her. She appraised Jill's body in the chair in front of her as 
though she were evaluating a new object of furniture that had been suddenly 
thrust into her living room. But then her expression softened. She smiled 
and drew on her drink. "How was the plane trip?" 

"Just ghastly," Jill sighed, relieved to have the silence broken. "I was 
never more aware of how many lecherous men there are in the world. I must 
have had at least a dozen propositions between Minneapolis and New York." 

"You're a pretty girl," Randi's eyes danced over Jill's long lithe legs. 

"I didn't mean that," Jill defended, "not that I'm pretty. I think they 
would have attempted it with anyone who looked the least vulnerable." 

"Perhaps that's part of your charm," the blonde slid one hand down her 
snugly fitting summer sweater to her smooth tightly skirted thigh. "And 
being vulnerable, as you say, can get you into a helluva lot of trouble in 
New York." 

Jill sipped on her drink. "I know. I met the elevator boy on the way up to 
the apartment." 

"Jimmy! He's a joke. He's absolutely harmless," Randi cried. "It's those 
cool operators you've got to watch for. They'll make you feel completely at 
ease one moment, and the next they'll have their hand down your dress!" 

A tiny shudder raced down the length of Jill's spine. There was something 
cheap and vaguely dime-storish about Randi Jordan which had burst out 
suddenly, but then was buried beneath her glittering surface charm. Her 
wide-set hazel-colored eyes narrowed and then grew large, tracing a 
suggestive path across the robe pulled tautly over Jill Marlin's full 
rounded breasts. 

"I wouldn't let these things bother you," she smiled softly. "Living in New 
York is more fun than it's trouble. I'll show you the ropes. You can learn a 
few things from me," Randi said, retrieving Jill's glass. "I'll make us two 
more of these." 

Jill looked around the spacious living room, accustoming herself to her new 
surroundings. The magazine had certainly set the place up in fine style, the 
young dark-haired girl thought. Beside the plush low-set sofa was a stereo 
set modeled out of expensive-looking oak panels with two large speakers 
radiating in an oval design from either side. The room was furnished in a 
mixture of modern styles, the vinyl butterfly chairs, and the lush white 
carpeting contrasting with the bright primary color abstract paintings hung 
on the wall above the couch. The large ceiling length windows looked out on 
the gathering twilight of Central Park, beyond which Jill could see the 
glittering lights of Manhattan shining like emerald stars in the distance. 

"Here's to us," Randi Jordan raised her drink and handed the brunette her 
refill, "and to your new career in New York!" 

Jill drank, feeling the warm soothing substance bum pleasantly down her 
throat. "I'd hardly call working as a secretary a career," she laughed. 

"That's the way most of the girls I know got into the business," Randi did a 
small turn on the floor in front of her. "It's the best angle I can think 
of. You have the opportunity to test yourself and see whether you like the 
world of business or not. There are lots of distasteful things about the rat 
race, you know." 

"I don't understand," Jill sat up in her chair. "In every outfit, even a 
woman's magazine, there are men to deal with. Some nice, some not so nice. 
But you be sure all of them are after the same thing." 

Jill's face crimsoned over. "Are they that open about it?" 

"In our office you'll run into some real ass chasers!" Randi Jordan walked 
in a small half-circle in front of the younger girl, "but I don't think 
you'll have much trouble if you let them know where you stand right off the 
bat." In spite of herself, Jill was beginning to like her new roommate. As 
they talked she found the racy language Randi used was more a part of her 
relaxed style than something that revealed a moral flaw in her nature. They 
had another drink, and chatted about themselves. Jill talked about her 
interest in literature which had begun years ago in high school, and of her 
interest to do something "creative" in writing or publishing. Randi shared 
some of her own personal experiences with the brunette from Minnesota. 

"Somehow, I got sidetracked," the blonde said from the sensuously reclining 
position she'd gotten into on the couch. "It happened imperceptibly, I 
guess. I know I've changed. 

When I first came to New York I was filled with the same ambitions you 
have." 

"What happened?" 

"I don't know. I still have the ambition, but now I'm frankly hunting for a 
husband. The literary part of it is secondary." 

Jill laughed, and brushed a jet-black strand of hair from across her cheek. 
"I think I'd better be turning in. After all, tomorrow is my first day on 
the job." 

Randi stood up. "My God, I haven't even shown you your room. I suppose you 
thought you were going to sleep on the carpet." 

"I assumed there was something more to the apartment," Jill laughed. 

Randi Jordan led the way down a darkened hallway extending from the far side 
of the living room past two closed doors and then switched on a light. 

"Voila, the bedroom," she smiled, pushing the door open wide to let Jill 
past. 

"It's lovely," the curvaceous blonde exclaimed. The room was pleasantly 
decorated with a large king sized double bed, two chairs and a writing 
table. Above the bed hung another brightly colored abstract painting. 

"I hope you don't mind my eccentric tastes in art," the Jordan girl smiled, 
moving toward the door. "The masterpieces are relics from an affair I had 
with a painter two years ago. I hear he's doing quite well now. I saw an 
exhibit of his advertised in the Times only a month ago." 

"I like it, but I really can't say I understand it," Jill shrugged. 

"Darling," Randy smiled as she closed the door halfway and stepped into the 
hall, "I don't even know if the artist knew what the hell he was doing. But 
that's an old story. See you in the morning." 

Jill smiled, dropping onto the soft mattress as Randi pushed the door behind 
her and said good night. 

Without switching off the light, Jill lay down in the center of the large 
double bed and closed her eyes for a moment. She remembered she'd left her 
luggage in the living room and made a mental note to retrieve the suitcases. 
But overpowering exhaustion suddenly overcame her, more profound now after 
the drinks she'd consumed with Randi, and within minutes she drifted into a 
welcome sleep. 

It was some time after midnight she was awakened by sounds coming from the 
hallway. She'd been sleeping deeply and had thought at first it was a dream, 
but it came again, jarring her to alertness. She drew up in bed to a sitting 
position and listened. 

Something was wrong in the adjoining room. Muffled noises were echoing 
through the wall and through the door to her bedroom, sounding at once 
high-pitched, then lower, almost pleading and groaning. She sat still on the 
bed, listening. She didn't want to make a fool out of herself if nothing was 
wrong. It was possible that Randi was just having a nightmare, or she might 
be watching a late night TV horror movie. The sounds certainly had a strange 
spooky aspect to them that she couldn't quite picture with a complimentary 
action. There was silence for a moment, and then another noise, this time of 
movement. It sounded as though something were being thrown bodily on a bed, 
but she couldn't be certain. 

She slipped from the bed and walked to the door, pressing her ear tight 
against it to see if she could hear anything. The noises were still muffled 
and, quietly, she opened her bedroom door, flicking out the ceiling light as 
she turned the knob so she wouldn't call attention to herself. 

There was the unmistakable sound of movement floating through the stillness. 
She thought she could hear whimpering, but still it was impossible to tell. 
Jill Marlin hesitated for a moment, thinking that if there was something 
terribly wrong certainly Randi would scream. Her hand froze to the knob, but 
with a strong effort she forced herself to open the door completely and 
stepped into the darkness of the hall. 

A long low moan was suddenly discernible coming directly from the adjoining 
bedroom. Jill moved quietly past the threshold of her own room until she 
stood directly in front of the next chamber. There were still strange noises 
coming from the door without letup, their intensity increasing with each 
passing moment. She pushed against Randi's door, feeling it give a little 
against her gentle pressure and the noises through the opening became more 
clear to her senses. She could discern the sounds of heavy breathing and the 
staccato squeaking of bedsprings punctuated by animal-like grunts and moans 
of pain and pleasure. A thin crack of light rushed into the hallway as she 
inched open the door a quarter inch at a time. The sudden illumination 
blinded her and she could not see for a moment, but the sounds continued 
unabated by her silent and unknown intrusion. 

The young brunette's eyes adjusted to the intensity of the narrow path of 
'light Streaming into her face, and the figures splayed out on Randi's bed 
came into clear view. 

Her heart suddenly stopped beating, and then after a split second it felt as 
though it had leapt into her throat! 

It was Randi and a man was on top of her! 

The foot of the bed was pointed right at the door so that she could see the 
man's thick, long white penis disappearing and reappearing with each hard 
cruel thrust he made into the blonde girl. Randi's legs were stretched open 
wide on either side of his wildly plunging body and periodically would kick 
up high in the air and then fold around his driving buttocks, her ankles 
locking tightly behind his thighs, pulling him into her with all her 
strength. 

Jill jerked back against the threshold of the door, feeling the blood 
draining from her head, fighting to retain her balance and keep from falling 
backward. Never in her entire life had she seen anything so depraved looking 
as this. Even that night with Bill, the darkness had partially hidden a 
complete view of his stiff throbbing penis; but now, with the unknown man 
pumping obscenely into the blonde girl, there was no way to escape the lewd 
sight. She wondered how a woman could let a man do such a cruel thing to 
her, but Randi seemed to be enjoying it. 

In the dim bedroom light coming through the opened door, Jill could make out 
the narrow hair-lined split of the girl's vagina opening around the man's 
enormous hardness like a love-starved mouth. As his wetly glistening shaft 
slid down to the spasmodically contracting lips of Randi's cunt, Jill could 
see the fleshy foreskin on the cock and the bottom of its bulbously round 
head pausing for a teasing moment only to slip back in through the tight 
little vaginal lips once more. 

Jill stood transfixed, unable to take her eyes from the strange spectacle of 
love-making in front of her. Mingled with her repugnance she could feel a 
forbidden fascination tingling through her young trembling body. Never in 
all her years had she thought she'd have the opportunity to watch something 
like this going on. Despite her initial revulsion, she found herself 
wondering if it would feel good having something as large and fleshy as that 
skewering into her young virginal pussy. 

Jill could see the muscles standing out like velvet cables on Randi's smooth 
inner thighs, and then her legs lifting higher, the long white columns 
spiraling up the man's back. His hands were cupping around her pumping white 
buttocks with a savage strength that cut red bloodless lines into the smooth 
curving resiliency of Randi's flesh. He squeezed the firm rounded moons 
together, forcing the walls of her tightly quivering cunt closer around the 
thickness of his rigidly thrusting penis. Jill strained her eyes and could 
see the soft curls of sparse pussy hair grazing tantalizingly against the 
lust-swollen penis with each in and out stroke. 

Randi's nakedly upraised buttocks were grinding faster now, and the groans 
and mewls of pleasure were becoming more desperate as the glazed 
half-comprehending eyes of the brunette stayed glued hypnotically on the 
lewd obscene coupling taking place on the bed. Randi's wild, demonic upward 
thrusts were met with equal fury by the man, whose face, turning to the side 
for a moment, was distorted beyond recognition. 

"OYESSSSSSS, Sam fuck me, ram your big wonderful cock into my pussy," Randi 
moaned up into the sandy-haired man's face. 

Jill wondered what kind of relationship the man had with the blonde girl. 
Was it her boy friend? Had she merely picked him up off the street after 
Jill had gone to bed? She tried to fix in her mind a description of his 
passion-crimsoned face, but the loud smack of belly against belly resounding 
through the room like tiny distant clasps of thunder distracted her and 
brought her attention back to the wanton motions of their lewdly writhing 
loins below. Randi's legs curled and uncurled in wild ecstatic spasms around 
the man's pumping buttocks, pulling him down into her like a constrictor 
snake sapping strength from its victim. 

"Fuck me back, that's right Randi," the man intoned above the girl. 

"Yesssss, Sam, I love it, I'm fucking you back just the way you wanted." 

Jill stumbled into the darkness. She made her way dizzily through the 
darkened hallway and slipped into her bedroom again. Without closing her 
door she dropped onto her bed, the sounds of sexual intercourse still 
echoing through the corridor into her dazed mind. Her body tingled 
unwillingly from the effects of watching them. The girl could feel a 
rippling wave of pulsating sensation course through the tips of her breasts 
down into her thighs, and she timidly touched one hand to her straining 
right breast, feeling the small pointed nipple harden beneath her gently 
squeezing fingers. A teasing wave of pleasurable warmth quivered out across 
the aureoles of both breasts as her hands commenced to roam of their own 
accord over the fleshy curves of her youthfully aroused body. 

Watching Randi and the young man a moment before had gotten Jill Marlin more 
excited than she had realized, and, though she still felt a repugnance for 
the animal-like lewdness of the act of love-making itself, the temptation to 
caress herself up between the legs got the better of her. As though in a 
dream, her hands began to massage the straining whiteness of her breasts, 
trapping gently the trembling little nipples between her fingers, kneading 
and pulling them until it felt as though she would rip them loose from the 
sensuously quivering mounds. 

God, she didn't know what had gotten hold of her. Whatever it was, it didn't 
really matter, she thought. Before Randi had come into the apartment, she'd 
wanted to finger herself like this, to still the tension that had been 
building within her eager young body all afternoon. Now, with her roommate 
doing lewd obscene things to a man in the next room, she felt liberated from 
her earlier misgivings. The light from the city shone through the partially 
drawn curtains, illuminating her body as she watched it tremble under the 
ministrations of her own fingers. 

Her hands burrowed down her abdomen and groped at the sparse, softly curling 
jet-black pubic hair up between her firm young thighs. She slowly spread her 
legs and watched as the dark blush covering her genitals became silkily 
apparent in the dim half-light of her new bedroom. She could feel her own 
moistly dilating slit palpitating now against the tips of her fingers that 
drew the narrow furrow open, exposing the fleshy lips of her hotly pulsating 
cunt to the cool air around her hands. 

Groaning, she thrust her middle finger into her heatedly moistened cuntal 
mouth, sensing the open flanges of her cunt part slightly as though to 
permit her free entry. Her mind raced wildly over the vision of the man 
fucking Randi as she had watched. She could still hear the smack of flesh 
against naked flesh, and the low mewling sounds of passion erupting from the 
blonde's throat, and she recalled the length and thickness of the man's 
glistening cock as it thrust in and out of Randi's hungrily sucking cunt. 

"Ooooh, oh, oh," she heard the sharp cries, signaling the girl's approaching 
release from the next bedroom. 

The fire in her loins burned more intensely than ever, demanding more to 
feed its lewd hunger. She wormed in another finger, widening her legs 
further apart, then in a low self-surrendering groan drew her legs widely 
apart and upraised her moving buttocks off the mattress. She looked down at 
herself to see her lewdly writhing form with one hand working on the 
stiffening little nipple of her left breast through the parted robe while 
the other fucked rhythmically in and out of her moistly glistening vagina, 
imitating the thrust and counter thrust of a long hard cock ravishing her 
cunt. The vision of her own voluptuously swaying body, the blue robe parted 
to expose the flat white plane of her belly and the soft darkened "vee" of 
her pussy hair, sent renewed tingles of salacious pleasure through her 
trembling cuntal walls. 

Jill Marlin's mind went rampant as she gave in completely to herself. She 
heard the heave of bedsprings from the adjoining room accompanied by a deep, 
suspirant groan, and suddenly her mind did a strange thing: she imagined 
herself as Randi, and envisioned her own finger-impaled cunt filled with the 
hot, plunging whiteness of the man's cock that now screwed so furiously into 
her new roommate's wildly clasping pussy. Electric tingles of daring 
pleasure raced through her nerves as she pictured herself under the pounding 
body of the stranger, and a painful surge of lust-drenching sensation swept 
through her white little belly when she realized that the depraved scene in 
the next room was actually something she had wanted desperately for herself 
for longer than she could remember. 

"God, oh Christ, fuck me, screw my cunt, fuck it, FUCK MEEEEEEE!" she heard 
Randi's voice sear the air in demonic frenzy. 

Jill's face contorted as she felt it coming -- tiny fiery fingers of 
pleasure leaping through her warmly clasping and unclasping vaginal walls -- 
and her whole body vibrated in the first throes of orgasm. 

"Arrrrrg, Jesus," the man's voice echoed through the door. "I'm cumming, 
CUMMING!" 

The brunette's moistly quivering pussy grew wetter still, the white hot lust 
juices gushing from around her obscenely rummaging fingers and stickily 
covering her hand. She could feel it running in warm slippery rivulets down 
the inside of her trembling thighs to her bending knees. 

She stayed in a position with her legs splayed out wide and her robe thrown 
open for awhile, enjoying the last flutterings of dying pleasure that 
coursed through her moistly palpitating cunt. Finally, the last throes 
subsided and slowly she withdrew her fingers from her warmly quivering 
vaginal passage before resting her warm fleshed buttocks down on the 
mattress beneath them, her ripe young body satiated and her mind empty of 
all thoughts. She lay there completely still, her hands resting over her 
damp thighs and the robe still pulled up and to the side of her narrow 
waist. 

She didn't stir when the male figure moved from the adjoining room and 
appeared at her open door, nor did she hear Randi come up alongside him. 

"She's asleep," the man whispered. 

"I could have sworn I saw her standing at the door," Randi said. 

"It won't hurt her. She probably liked what she saw." 

"Still," the young blonde woman said, "I don't like the idea of breaking her 
in so quickly." 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Jill Marlin had mixed feelings about beginning her first day in New York. 
She was neither a visitor nor a native of the city, and when she recalled 
the events of the night before and remembered how she had fingered herself 
to orgasm as Randi made love to the stranger in the adjoining room, she felt 
a strong desire to leave. But she couldn't turn back now that she'd 
committed herself to sharing the apartment and was expected to be at the 
magazine office within the hour. 

It was seven-thirty, and she had less than half an hour to dress and have 
breakfast with Randi before they took the Seventh Avenue subway downtown. 
She pulled on a short light blue summer dress which she knew would expose 
the smooth cream-like whiteness of her thighs to the best advantage, and 
stood for a moment surveying herself in front of the dressing table mirror. 
Despite the restless night she'd spent, her tanned face looked composed in 
the reflected glow of sunlight coming through the curtains. 

But there was an edginess to her eyes that seemed keen and sharp, the pupils 
appearing like slate-blue pin-points in the glare. 

"You like your eggs and toast burnt, or merely well-done?" Randi was 
standing in the hall outside her door. 

"Don't worry about making anything," Jill smiled and turned from the mirror. 
"I'll have some cereal and that'll be it." 

The two girls chatted amiably during a brief breakfast, and soon Jill felt 
the nervousness she'd experienced upon awakening vanish. Randi looked 
predictably tired, and for the first time the young brunette noticed tiny 
crow's feet lines spanning almost imperceptibly beneath the blonde's 
hazel-colored eyes. 

No mention was made of the unknown visitor of last night, and Jill refrained 
from asking about him. As the two young, pretty girls walked the few blocks 
from their 63rd Street apartment building overlooking Central Park to the 
subway, a pleasant giddiness enveloped the curvaceous brunette. The 
September sky was a bright eggshell blue mirroring her cheerful mood, and 
the normally darkened facades of apartment buildings were enlivened by the 
sight of Lincoln Center, standing in clean whitewashed sunlight across from 
the subway stop. 

"This is the part that hurts," Randi laughed as they pushed into a packed 
IRT Express train. 

Randi was jostled back away from Jill by the pressing crowd and the brunette 
was thrust sideways behind the closing doors by two teenage boys. She could 
feel their breath grazing against her neck and smooth bare arms, and she 
struggled forward when one pressed his knee against the firm resiliency of 
her barely covered upper thigh. 

She pushed back, and then the other boy began to rest his thin adolescent 
form heatedly against her own young trembling body. She thought at once of 
Jimmy, the elevator boy, and wondered if all the men in New York were like 
the boys she'd encountered during her first day in the city. 

"I feel it getting hard, Frank," one boy turned to the other, sliding closer 
against her thigh until she sensed a hot pulsating thickness wedged 
obscenely just below the "vee" of her loins. 

"I got one a mile long," the fat boy wheezed, thrusting her painfully from 
beside the door as he pushed his groin sharply against her own. 

Across the car she saw Randi signaling toward the door. Jill pivoted around, 
unwedging herself from the lewd obscene contact of the two teenage boys. 

Abruptly the train came to a halt as the crowd surged around her, drawing 
Jill's body along in an inexorable human tide she was helpless to fight 
against. She saw Randi's smiling face and long platinum blonde hair bobbing 
in the sea of faces. 

Finally, the two girls were reunited at the top of a flight of stairs 
looking out on the wide expanse of Broadway and 42nd Street. 

"Times Square," Randi said, taking Jill's hand. 

There was a sorrowful bleakness to the scene: Scraps of newspaper blew 
across the pavement, and over the garish theater marquees bright neon lights 
flashed advertisements for sex movies. Standing beneath the luridly blinking 
signs were girls who were obviously prostitutes, some of them even younger 
than Jill, offering up their wares. 

"They start business quite early," Randi laughed, and they turned, making 
their way down 42nd Street in the direction of the Lexington Avenue office. 

Femme Magazine was on the fifteenth floor of a modern glass-walled structure 
that overlooked mid-town Manhattan. The two pretty girls entered early, and 
Randi showed Jill around, pointing out the reception lounge, the main 
editorial office, and the expensively furnished cubicles where the editorial 
assistants worked. The firm occupied the entire fifteenth level of the 
building, and seemed almost intimidating to Jill in its ultra-modern 
plushness. As in Randi's apartment, the walls were hung with abstract 
paintings, and the entire expanse of the central office was carpeted with a 
spongy white rug that seemed to puddle softly around Jill's feet. 

"This is your little hideaway," Randi said, showing Jill a small room 
adjoining the executive office. 

"It hardly looks like the kind of place a secretary would expect to work 
in," Jill said in amazement. 

"The boss, Gary Johnson, likes to have his secretaries live in style. He 
says a secretary is worth three editorial assistants. I actually agree," 
Randi laughed, dropping into an armchair beside Jill's desk. 

The young brunette sat down in front of her desk and looked over the large 
IBM typewriter, then leaned back easily in her swivel chair. "It helps a 
little to know you're being thought of as something more than a workhorse," 
she smiled. 

"Fm really interested in the publishing angle of the job than the 
secretarial part of it." 

"And that's exactly why we hired you," she heard a deep male voice coming 
from outside the door. 

Suddenly, a tall blue-eyed man with a shock of dark chestnut hair came 
smiling in through the door. Randi stood up and introduced Gary Johnson, the 
chief editor, to Jill. 

"You don't need to worry too much about me," Johnson said with a soft laugh. 
"Fm a kind of hatchet man for the big guy in the downtown office. Wilbur 
Kinsby, the publisher, the fella we take out all our pet peeves on." 

Jill smiled and leaned back in her chair. The ruggedly handsome man had a 
relaxed, good-natured air about him that put Jill immediately at ease. 

"I guess Randi's given you a quick rundown on what we're up to at Femme 
Magazine, " he said, settling onto the armrest of the chair where Randi was 
seated. "I thought you might be interested in the job because of your 
college background in journalism." 

Jill smiled. Actually, she had never taken a journalism course in school. As 
Johnson talked, the lithe, attractively dark-haired girl received the 
impression that he and Randi were closer than she had initially thought. And 
yet, there was antagonism between the two that masked itself in veiled 
comments of personal affection the two exchanged. 

"Randi and I have been through all the bullshit at Femme together," Johnson 
said, leaning close to the voluptuously full-breasted blonde and patting her 
gently on the back. "You might say we're the founders of an important event, 
wouldn't you Randi, babes?" 

Randi pulled forward, letting Gary's hand fall awkwardly on the back rest of 
the chair. "Exactly what event are you referring to?" she inquired, turning 
her eyes to Jill. 

"The old Saturday night orgy. Don't tell me you've suddenly forgotten about 
that?" 

"Jill, don't pay any attention to this old lecher! He's the only person I've 
met under forty who might classify as a dirty old man." Johnson looked at 
his watch. "You know, we've been chatting here past coffee break time. I 
haven't shown Jill what I want her to do the first week. I hadn't anything 
special in mind, but you might type up a few articles which have been worked 
up by our staff. That way, you'll get a vague idea what kind of trash we're 
putting out on the market." 

Johnson brought in some finished manuscripts and set them on Jill's desk and 
began pointing out irregularities in the master copy. Randi still hadn't 
left Jill's cubicle, and after a moment he rose from beside Jill, crossed 
the room and said something in a half-whisper to the blonde, who abruptly 
stood up and left the room. 

"Goddamn Randi," he swore as he sat down next to the young secretary. 
"She'll poke her head into everything if you give her the chance. Not that I 
have anything against the chick. She's just too out in the open for my 
tastes." 

Jill edged her chair slightly to the side as she felt Gary Johnson's body 
pressing uncomfortably close against her chair. 

"I don't like starting out your first day with a lot of gossip," Johnson 
spun his yellow pencil around on her desk, "but there are some things you 
should know about Randi. Especially if you're going to be living with her." 

"She's been very nice to me," Jill tried to sound disturbed though not angry 
at the indirect way the older man was trying to attack her new roommate. 
"I'm sure if there are any problems with our relationship, we'll be able to 
work them out." 

"Let's get this straight," he said in a bitter voice. "I'm not spreading 
dirt about Randi. 

We're good friends. She and I have been in this racket together longer than 
I care to remember. But people change, and Randi... she's a different person 
than she was three years ago." 

Jill's stomach was tied in burning knots, and her temples began to pound out 
the first aching throbs of a migraine headache. What had begun as a 
delightful first morning on her job was becoming an intolerable early 
afternoon. Johnson sensed her concern, and he dismissed the subject of 
Randi, returning to the copy on the desk in front of her. 

As they worked together, going over standard punctuation rules used by the 
company and discussing other more or less mundane typographical procedures, 
Jill felt Gary's knee pressing with a strange persistence against her own. 
His hand glided over the typewritten manuscript, pointing out errors to the 
attractive dark-haired girl, while his leg began moving softly back and 
forth from her knee up to the firm smoothness of her thigh beneath the desk. 

"You know, it's just about lunch time," he said finally, dropping his hand 
to her tanned forearm in an affectionate manner. "Whaddya say we go out and 
get a bite to eat?" 

Jill accepted the middle-aged man's invitation with something akin to 
ecstatic relief. He had been getting to damn close, she thought, and now 
that he was standing up from beside her desk she clearly saw a large 
protuberance pressing against the crotch of his pants. The young girl tried 
to look away, but the size of Gary Johnson's erection couldn't be denied by 
anything she might do. Johnson had obviously become aroused by her presence 
while they'd been working closely together, and whatever thoughts he'd had 
about her effectiveness as an employee for the firm were blotted out by his 
lewd interest in her. 

As they descended in the elevator, he didn't seem in the least perturbed by 
the fact that she'd seen him in his obscene, lewdly excited state. She 
wondered if she hadn't been somewhat foolish wearing such a provocatively 
tight dress. As they entered the dimly lit basement restaurant a few blocks 
uptown from the office, a reminder from her rather old-fashioned mother 
reverberated through her mind: "Remember, Jill," the grey-haired woman had 
said, standing over the girl as she'd finished packing for her trip to New 
York, "there really is no such thing as rape. A girl who gets in that way 
receives just what she gets. Men are weak creatures of the flesh. Maybe we 
aren't any different, but it's a woman's advantage not to show too much of 
what she's got. There is only so much a man, even a good one, can take." 

Gary ordered drinks and they settled back in a booth in a remote comer of 
the Italian restaurant. 

"Do you come here often?" Jill asked, leaning across the table as he struck 
a match for her cigarette. 

"I save my visits here for special occasions. When I'm either about to fire 
somebody or give somebody a raise," he chuckled. 

"You don't seem like the firing type," Jill laughed. 

"No, I'll have to admit I'm not," he smiled as their drinks were brought to 
their table. "I haven't canned anybody for years. We get along fairly well 
at the office, even when I'm feeling like a bastard -- which fortunately 
isn't all the time." 

The martinis were especially strong and after a few sips Jill felt the cool 
mixture of gin and vermouth going to her head. She wasn't used to drinking 
in the middle of the day, but she felt funny refusing the mind-dazing 
substance, since she wanted to make a good impression on her boss and didn't 
like the idea of showing, in any way, that she might not fit in. Gary told 
her a little more about the company, and after awhile the conversation 
slipped back, inevitably it almost seemed, to Randi. 

"I don't want you to get me wrong. I really like the girl. We've had our ups 
and downs together, but we happen to work well as a team. I think our basic 
conflict is sexual, the old war between the sexes. There's nothing you can 
do about that," he confided, peering through the candle-lit darkness of the 
restaurant at the demurely pretty brunette. 

"I can't wait for her to show me around town. She's so experienced in this 
city. I'm still fresh from the sticks, and a girl like Randi can be a 
tremendous help to me," she tried to guide the subject gracefully away from 
the gossipy tone he had set back in the office. 

"She'll show you around, all right," he said with a note of sarcasm in his 
voice, "don't worry your pretty young body about that." 

Jill felt a spine-grazing shiver of apprehension slide icicle-like down her 
spine. Gary's leg pressed beneath the table against her own, his knee again 
rocking with stubborn persistence against her thigh. The icicle dropped into 
her stomach, melting there, and she reached for her drink. She remembered 
the sight of his large erection barely concealed beneath his pants in the 
office; then recalled the few pointed comments Randi and he had made to each 
other. 

"You look like you're a thousand miles away," her new boss waved his hand 
slowly back and forth in front of her pretty face. 

"No... I was just thinking," she defended weakly. "I was wondering about a 
lot of things." 

"You'd probably make a good writer," he laughed and finished his drink. 
"Dreamers always do. I remember reading an ad somewhere for a writer's 
school using that approach. If you have daydreams or fantasies, why not put 
your wasted energy to good use? That was the point of the ad; it might have 
been a little hard on those daydreamers who don't have any talent, but 
there's more than a little truth in the idea." 

"I think I'd fall into the no talent category." A kind of false brightness 
came to her face. 

"You know, you're a very pretty girl," he reached across the table and held 
her hand. "I wouldn't want anything to stop you from getting what you want 
out of this job. You're smart too, and brains and good looks don't often go 
together, especially in the business world." 

"That's very... nice, very thoughtful of you," she said, drawing her hand 
from his and sitting up with an awkward straightness in her chair. 

Gary signaled for more drinks, then looked at his watch. "Would you believe 
it's three o'clock? I'm afraid our luncheon is going to be an all-afternoon 
affair." 

"Maybe we should go back to the office and just have some sandwiches," she 
said, realizing with a blush that it was not her prerogative to suggest they 
leave. 

"Gino is a little slow today, but he's used to me taking my time. What good 
is our time if we're always in a mad rush? I'm willing to make a day of it 
with you. There's no reason to be caged up in that office when we can talk 
just as well over drinks." 

Gary didn't seem aware that she might be in the least hungry, but evidently 
the alcohol he consumed had tempered his appetite. It did the opposite with 
her, hollowing out a gnawing pit of emptiness in her stomach, making her 
drink more than she knew she should. After she had finished her second 
martini, things that had once bothered her took on a softer, less 
threatening aspect. She even let her boss press his leg and touch his hand 
against her soft firmly contoured thigh occasionally, interpreting the 
gesture as coming more from a desire to be reassuring and pleasant than from 
any lewd intentions on his part. 

Still though, from moment to moment she found herself drawing away from him, 
pulling back into her soft-cushioned chair as though a central part of 
herself was cautioning her to beware of the older man smiling at her from 
across the table. Finally, their lunch arrived and Jill ate ravenously. The 
antipasto and lasagna were especially good, and after the meal the coffee 
and brandy put her into a mellow mood. 

"This is some first day on the job!" she said in a soft husky voice. "I'd 
never imagined a secretary could be wined and dined like this!" 

"Jill," Gary's eyes narrowed, "I don't think of you as just a secretary. 
First you're a woman. I hope you don't mind my saying that." 

"No-no, I--I, of course... I don't mind," tiny sparks of confusion went 
through her. 

"We're having a party, a kind of company thing at the end of the week." His 
eyes dropped to the full, softly shaded roundness of her breasts. "I wanted 
to tell you about it before, but I forgot. Would you like to go?" 

The girl paused over her coffee, musing over the handsome masculine presence 
across from her who neither announced his intentions openly to her, nor 
showed the least restraint in explaining himself through seductive gestures 
rather than words. "Of course I'd like to go," she discovered herself 
responding, a thin membrane of will power severing itself from the back of 
her mind, only to reassert itself a moment afterward. "I don't actually know 
any of these people. Do you think I'd fit in?" 

"Goddamn it, Jill," he laughed gruffly, "that's the farm girl in you coming 
out. Of course you'll fit in! By the way, I wouldn't mention our discussion 
about Randi to her. I just wanted you to be careful of the girl. She's 
living at high speed, and it wouldn't do you any good getting too goddamn 
cozy with her." 

They left the restaurant and returned to the firm for a half hour before 
Johnson closed shop for the afternoon. 

On the way home in the subway, Jill and Randi didn't talk, nor did the 
voluptuous blonde girl show her characteristic bright enthusiasm when the 
two girls settled down for drinks before supper in their spacious 63rd 
Street apartment overlooking Central Park. Dusk came early on that late 
September evening, the sky over the tops of distant buildings on the east 
side of Manhattan shading from violet to a deep purple and then turning 
velvety black. 

Jill thought of what Gary Johnson had said about her roommate, and wondered 
whether she hadn't been too nice to him, even though he'd made some rather 
vicious attacks against the character of the sexy young blonde. Looking 
across the room now at Randi, she couldn't help admiring the gentle slope of 
the girl's large melony breasts, and the smooth sweep of young white thighs 
that were encased seductively in a pair of tight-fitting summer shorts. 

"You have a good day?" Randi finally said, looking up from her drink. 

"Just fine," Jill's voice was tense. "I got a little drunk with Gary, 
though. I was kind of surprised about the lunch." 

"That's Gary's way of asserting his authority," Randi wrinkled her slightly 
turned-up nose in disapproval. "He likes to impress his secretaries. I'd be 
careful of him, if I were you. His intentions aren't altogether honorable." 

"He mentioned something about a party this weekend," Jill stood up from the 
armchair and went into the kitchen. "I wonder if I ought to go?" 

"Please do!" Randi said brightly from the living room. "You'll see the line 
up of characters in action, right on down from the publisher to the other 
secretaries." 

Jill removed some hamburger from the refrigerator and began shaping the meat 
into small patties, setting them in a large frying pan on top of the stove. 
It was clear to her, from what Randi had said, that the pretty blonde had it 
out for Gary Johnson, just as their boss was equally ill-disposed toward 
Jill's roommate. One thing the innocently attractive girl from Minnesota did 
not want was to be caught in the crossfire between the two of them; but she 
had a feeling that the war of sexes, and the bitter retribution that would 
effect all those who might unknowingly take sides in the affair had already 
begun. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Nothing could have been more surprising to Jill Marlin during that first 
week at Femme Magazine than meeting the man she had seen making love to her 
roommate that first night in the Manhattan apartment. Sam Borden was a 
thickly set man in his early thirties who worked in the office adjoining 
Randi's cubicle. 

When Jill had been introduced to him, a shock of recognition reverberated 
ominously through her youthful body. His blunt, prize-fighter's features 
seemed to light up that Tuesday morning while over coffee in the office 
lounge Randi and he, seated together on a couch directly across from the 
young brunette, began to talk in low, barely audible tones; his eyes kept 
flicking from the blonde to the full cantalouped mounds of Jill's high-set 
breasts. She wondered if he had recognized her, but then dismissed the 
thought as impossible. Both had been too engrossed in love-making to have 
noticed her two nights before in front of Randi's bedroom door. 

Jill looked up at the stockily-built man standing over her, recalling the 
sight of his large massively erect cock plunging into her roommate's moistly 
clasping vagina. "I... I guess the job takes a lot out of you. It must be 
hard to find time to write," she struggled hard not to blush. 

Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "You're right. At first 
you think about it, and then the thought gets less and less important. It's 
a crying shame so many of us get caught up in the rat race, but you gotta 
eat to live!" 

Jill stood up from her chair and faced the window. White puffs of cloud 
scudded across the tops of skyscrapers on the horizon, forming an elusive, 
misty crown over the city. "I always thought I'd be able to learn how to 
write, working with other writers." She could feel Sam Borden's gaze fall 
brazenly against the smoothly uplifting orbs of her breasts as she spoke. 

Sam came to the window. "Honey," he said with a slight drawl in his voice, 
"you learn one thing while you're in New York, and maybe it's worth 
forgetting all the other frigging writing experience for it. You find out 
how to survive." 

Randi made a humming sound as she refilled her cup from the electric coffee 
pot set on a ceramic table in the center of the room. "You and Gary are 
alike in one respect," she said, her buttocks waggling provocatively beneath 
her salaciously tight-fitting slacks as she approached Jill and Sam standing 
by the window. "Neither of you can stomach the idea of anybody else making 
it. You want to drag everyone else down to your own level regardless of 
whether they want to be down there with you or not." 

"Sweet fucking Jesus!" Sam whistled. "What the hell prompted that?" 

Randi set her cup on the window ledge. "I'm getting awfully tired hearing 
the same sob story from you two guys," she said, looking steadily at the 
broad shouldered man. "For two years it's been the same thing. Your 
philosophy turns pretty rancid, Sam Borden, especially when I know you're 
thinking about nothing but getting into this sweet young thing's pants!" 

"Don't pay any attention to her, baby." He looked unabashedly at the ripely 
large spheres of Jill's breasts. "Randi's just afraid if I put the make on 
you, she'll have to start hunting around for another man." 

"Please don't drag me into your personal conflicts," Jill felt the stocky 
man and his girl friend pushing against her from both sides. "I really don't 
like it." 

"That's what happens around the office." Randi rested an assertive hand on 
the brunette's shoulder. "The new guy always gets involved. The only way you 
can fight against it is to let everyone know where you stand right off the 
bat. I'm proud of you, Jill. It takes a lot of guts to do that." 

The young brunette returned to her cubicle and began to cry. She recalled 
her conversation with Gary Johnson yesterday, and wondered if her initial 
impulse to quit the job before she became embroiled in the office squabble 
hadn't been the intelligent thing to do. 

But the remainder of the week was relatively pleasant, and there weren't as 
many confrontations with either Gary or Sam, although she was aware of the 
searing hungry lewdness of their glances when they met in the hallway or 
lounge. The party that Saturday night was going to be an informal gathering, 
but as the week came to a close she found herself thinking about it more and 
more. 

The evening of the party Randi and Jill stood in the living room of their 
63rd Street apartment, having drinks before they dressed for the gathering 
later that night. Jill was dressed in a halter and a small half-slip that 
accentuated the sensually swelling arcs of her breasts and hips, while Randi 
was clothed in a pair of tightly fitting white panties and a sheer strapless 
brassiere. 

"You should get an excellent glimpse of office politics tonight," Randi 
smiled over her gin and tonic. 

"It would be nice to talk to some people outside the confines of the 
magazine office." 

"I'm afraid Sam and Gary like to mix business with pleasure," Randi said. 
"They may try to make a pass at you and promise a promotion if you put out 
for them. It's not all that pleasant, but it is interesting." 

Jill smiled. "I think I can handle myself. After a week working with Gary 
and Sam I'll be able to take anything." 

Randi sprung from the couch and bent down, touching her fingertips to her 
toes, then stretching backwards athletically. Jill's eyes flickered over the 
tall, slim blonde's body, noting how the sensuously smooth curves of her 
legs, thighs, and buttocks seemed to merge one into the other in a 
remarkable aesthetic composition of lithe female grace. 

"You haven't met our renowned publisher yet," Randi set her drink on the 
small paneled bar behind her. "Wilbur Kinsby's the man to watch out for. 
Urbane, witty, and full of spunk even though he's in his sixties. In a way 
he's more of a man than either Sam or Gary. Do you remember what Gary said 
about being Kinsby's hatchet man?" 

Jill nodded. 

"Well, that wasn't far from the truth. Kinsby stays in the background, while 
Gary does the dirty work, so to speak. Just watch him tonight." 

Jill dressed quickly for the party, feeling a forbidden tingle of 
anticipation about meeting the head of the company, and watching the other 
employees in action. The gin and tonic she'd had was already going to her 
head, but she didn't realize that the softly glowing sensation racing 
through the tips of her gently upthrusting breasts was due to its effects. 

Kinsby had rented out a fashionable west side apartment for the gathering. 
If the offices of Femme Magazine were notable for their plushness, the flat 
over-looking the Hudson River and George Washington Bridge was a model of 
luxury and wealth far beyond Jill Marlin's most extravagant dreams. 

By the time the two young roommates entered the spacious living room, the 
festivities were already in full swing. White-coated waiters moved from 
table to table dispensing drinks, while a small band played soft music from 
an alcove adjoining the high-ceilinged room. Beside the expansive fireplace 
Jill recognized the tall, imposing form of Gary Johnson standing next to a 
slim, flame-haired young woman. 

Randi led Jill across the large salon to the bar where a waiter with bushy 
eyebrows was listening to a short dark-haired young man. 

"I don't care if ya can't make a gin fizz or not," the man said in a New 
York accent, "at least ya should know what the hell a Crimson Angel is!" 

The young man turned away, his face darkened with exasperation. The 
bartender shrugged and gazed across the marble-topped table at Jill and 
Randi. 

"Two martinis," Randi said in a husky voice. 

"I don't know if I should drink any more," Jill brushed softly against 
Randi's arm. "I was stupid to have that gin and tonic back at the 
apartment." 

"You'll be a fool not to," Randi laughed brightly, lifting the two martini 
glasses from the tray the bartender set in front of them. "I know I'll need 
more than a few to make the night go smoothly." 

Jill shrugged and sipped at the drink Randi gave her with concealed 
satisfaction. She had never cared too much for alcohol, but the nervousness 
she felt this evening made it almost a necessity. Besides, she deserved to 
have a little fun after the difficult week she'd put in at the office. 

"We just might have enough luck to meet Kinsby tonight," Randi said as the 
two girls sat down on a couch facing the fireplace, "but usually he absents 
himself from his parties." 

"That's strange," Jill said, looking across the room at the well-dressed 
couples who had begun dancing to the mellow tones of the band playing from 
the alcove. "I've never heard of someone not going to his own party." 

Randi leaned softly against Jill's bare shoulder. "Not really so strange," 
the platinum blonde's eyes twinkled. "He's actually everywhere. You can 
almost feel his presence." 

"Don't be silly," Jill laughed, her gaze following the tall handsome figure 
of Gary Johnson who had left the redhead and was approaching the bar. "How 
could Mr. Kinsby do that!" 

"He's got intercom sets, you know, closed circuit TV cameras hidden in all 
the oddest places. If you look carefully behind that potted plant," she 
nodded toward a large earthen pot with an exotic looking flower extending 
several large jungle-like tendrils up against the pine-paneled wall, "you 
can see what I mean." 

"I'd rather not!" Jill laughed nervously and sipped on her drink. 

"Well, we look right pretty tonight!" a hoarse male voice broke out from 
beside them. 

Sam Borden, already slightly drunk, dropped down on the arm rest beside 
Randi. 

"And you look rather smashed," Randi dropped her hand casually on top of 
Sam's knee. 

"You don't like?" the dark-haired man smiled at Jill. 

"To the contrary." Randi ran her hand gently up Sam's thigh. "A little booze 
brings out the best in you." 

"You wanna dance?" the short stocky man stood up from the arm rest of the 
couch. 

"That's what I'm here for." Randi rose into Borden's arms, winking at Jill 
who moved somewhat restlessly back against the cushion as her roommate and 
the garrulous man walked to the dance floor. 

The music grew resonant and mellower still, the lead saxophone breaking into 
a familiar song, and Jill found herself humming quietly along with the soft 
ballad. On the carpet in front of her Randi and Sam were dancing close, 
Borden's hands gripping in a tight hug around the small of the young woman's 
back. The couple moved in a slow rhythmic time to the music, their bodies 
pressing in a lewdly provocative manner against each other. Randi coursed 
her hands over Sam's sides and then sent her fingers down to his hips where 
she cradled the firmness of the older man's swaying buttocks in the cups of 
her hands. 

Slowly, Randi responded to the soft sensuous rhythm of the music by grinding 
her pelvis against Sam's groin. Jill began to feel uneasy as the couple 
continued to gyrate obscenely in front of her. They were oblivious to the 
fact that they were being watched, as they had been the first night Jill had 
spent in her new apartment, and they arched their backs and hips in a 
salacious posture of copulation. But the other couples, some of whom Jill 
recognized as copy boys and office girls from the firm, seemed equally 
indifferent to the lewdness of their embrace. 

"Interesting, aren't they?" Gary Johnson's voice suddenly distracted Jill 
from her thoughts. The tall chestnut-haired man appeared in front of her, 
holding a drink and a cigarette. 

"I had no idea there were so many people working for the company. Where did 
they all come from?" she said as her boss sat down in an armchair beside the 
couch. 

"Half of them work at the downtown office," he said, resting his drink on 
the coffee table in front of her. "The other half are either crashers or 
friends of Kinsby. I don't know most of them, but that makes things more 
exciting." 

Jill wore a light cotton sleeveless dress that was tightly shaped around the 
softly mounded orbs of her breasts and dropped from their full firm 
roundness in an "A" line to the breath-taking arcs of her hips. She sat up 
comfortably adjusting the short hemline over her shapely thighs, trying to 
appear modest yet bemused by Johnson's stare at the provocative lines of her 
young body. "It's fun seeing people in a social situation after meeting them 
in the office all week. They seem prettier, happier." She set her glass on 
the wrought iron table next to Gary's drink. 

"There is a difference," he smiled. "Not only qualitatively, but 
quantitatively. At Kinsby's parties, everybody is a lot gayer and more open 
with each other. By the time the evening's over," he nodded slowly, 
"there'll be quite a few new friendships made." 

"You were so busy last week," Jill looked at the large framed man who pulled 
his chair closer to her, "I hadn't time to thank you for the delightful 
lunch on Monday." 

"It was my pleasure," his gray eyes twinkled. "I wanted to talk to you about 
our conversation about Randi, but a few important things came up. You 
haven't mentioned anything to her, have you?" 

"I've forgotten whatever it was you'd said," she answered, narrowing her 
eyes. 

"Tonight you'll have a chance to watch her in action. She's a real hellion," 
he laughed, "and I have a feeling she's taking old brother Sam for a ride." 

Out of the comer of her eye Jill caught a glimpse of Randi and Sam, dancing 
closer now if that was at all possible. Sam's arms were extended down to the 
small of the blonde's back and his palms were cupped lasciviously over the 
tight rounded moons of the girl's sensually swaying buttocks. 

"Let's dance," Johnson said, rising abruptly from his chair. 

Suddenly, as though in a dream, Jill was swept into Gary's arms and led 
gracefully to the center of the room. He had taken Jill by surprise when he 
curled her warmly into his arms, making certain he could feel the sharp tips 
of her full breasts pushing tautly into his chest. In the last few moments 
she had felt he had his eye on her, and she'd tried to ignore it, but she'd 
somehow felt his eyes almost penetrating through even when she wasn't 
looking at him. Gary Johnson was certainly an attractive man, Jill mused as 
they began rocking softly from side to side to the music. But she wasn't 
interested in establishing any intimate relationship with men in New York... 
at least not yet. 

Jill tried to pull back, but Johnson's hand tightening on her back held her 
close. She had never experienced a problem like this before, and she wasn't 
certain exactly how to handle it. If she forced her way out of his arms, she 
would insult the man, but God only knew what would happen if they kept up 
their dancing like this. 

"Baby, there's nothing in the world to be afraid of," he breathed warmly 
against her cheek. "I'm not all that dangerous." 

Jill felt her face flush slightly as he pushed forward, pushing his groin 
against her so that the hard little mound of her cunt was rubbing against 
the top of his thigh. It was then the inexperienced young girl became aware 
of her right thigh making direct contact with something hard and 
protuberant. Breathing wetly into her ear, he ground his loins slowly and 
methodically up and down against her taut little belly. 

"Good Lord, do you always dance so close?" Jill's voice was tremulous as she 
tried to force herself slightly away from him. 

"It's kind of a tradition," he said almost gleefully, "like lunch last 
Monday. It's how people get to know each other." 

"Some tradition," Jill managed to laugh. 

"You like?" 

"Not especially," she struggled to remain cool. 

"I think it's... uh... intriguing. I'm wondering what you'll do next. Will 
you make a scene when I make my next move, or will you keep up the pretense 
of not knowing what I'm doing." He gave a sharp tug against the smooth plane 
of her back. 

Jill swallowed hard. She was so shocked by Gary Johnson's sudden lewd 
interest in her that the words just wouldn't come. He had been flirtatious 
at the beginning of the week, but that was a lot different than trying to 
seduce her right in the center of the company party. She wondered whether 
their discussion of Randi didn't have something to do with it. There was a 
vengeful quality in the way he pressed wantonly close to her, as though he 
were demonstrating his male prowess to the throng gathered on the dance 
floor and seated at the tables around the room. 

"I'm a very, very responsive guy," he said, "and I can be won over pretty 
easily. You remember our discussion at the beginning of the week?" 

"Yes... but what does that have to do -- Her words were swallowed as she 
realized Johnson's intentions, and knew that her own reaction should be 
gauged in terms of her future at the company. 

"I think you get the idea." He swung the hardness of his groin strongly 
against her abdomen, grinding his rapidly stiffening penis more insistently 
into the smooth resiliency of her flesh. "You know goddamn well, it feels 
good. Go ahead, say it does." 

"If this is an example of office politics, I want nothing to do with it," 
Jill suddenly tensed back from him as she spoke. 

Gary wedged his pelvis closer to hers and inched one of his hands down to 
the soft hollow just above her buttocks. "Sexual politics, you might say. I 
can make an eloquent case for myself if you want." 

"You've been eloquent enough, I'm afraid," she shuddered, hardening her 
resistance against him as his muscular body seemed to surge around her 
petite, girlish frame. 

The couples around were oblivious to the lewd position Gary had forced her 
into. Sam and Randi, a few feet away from them, were swaying back and forth, 
not moving from their rocking stance to the music, their thighs and buttocks 
rotating perceptibly in semblance of intercourse to the full tones of the 
saxophone and trumpet whose harmonic melody submerged the now dimly-lit room 
in a soothing curtain of sound. 

"This is a difficult situation," she sighed. "I mean, I don't want to lose 
my job, but I'm not used to being propositioned like this." 

"Forget about the offer," Gary said, resting his hand on her softly 
quivering ass-cheeks. "Pretend we're just friends, maybe lovers, if you 
like." 

The music stopped and with a tremble of relief Jill broke from her tall 
boss' arms. 

"But we're not lovers," Jill protested in a quiet voice. 

Gary led her to the bar and ordered Jill another drink. "Just think about 
it. You have nothing to lose if you want me. However," he smiled at the 
bartender and handed the girl her third martini, "there are unforeseen 
consequences if you refuse." 

"That's certainly a blunt way of putting it," she remarked as they settled 
on a divan in a darkened comer of the room. 

Her mind raced quickly over the alternatives Johnson had presented her with, 
noting that his actions confirmed with what Randi had predicted would happen 
when they'd entered the publisher's apartment. She was already a little high 
from the drinks she'd had at home and the martinis she'd consumed at the 
party, and the alcohol had taken the edge off things. The subject of her job 
and his proposition dropped gracefully from their conversation. As they 
drank and talked, and as Gary Johnson again became the witty, urbane New 
Yorker rather than the blatantly lecherous blackmailer he'd seemed on the 
dance floor, she dismissed her earlier fears as a little premature, or at 
least unnecessary. After all, she was capable of handling him if he got too 
intimate with her, and she supposed it was good for them to be open and 
sincere with each other. 

By eleven o'clock the party was going at full swing. Old faces disappeared 
and new ones took their places in the expansive, luxuriously furnished 
living room. Jill noticed couples leaving and entering through a door that 
led to the rear of the apartment, and Gary, who had taken on the status of 
her date for the evening, pointed out to her that the couples were going to 
the back bedroom. 

"Just like that? Isn't it a little bold of them?" she said in an astonished 
voice. 

"You'll get used to it," he said heavily. "It's not so unusual in New York. 
The publishing world carries on half of its business in bed." 

"I've been looking for Mr. Kinsby. Randi said he rarely shows up at his own 
parties." She shifted her leg away from him as he dropped his hand softly 
against her knee. 

"Wilber's here." She could see him smiling through the half darkness. "In 
fact, I can introduce you to him if you like." 

Without protesting, Jill permitted herself to be led through the rear 
corridor to a large darkened room at the end of the hall. Through the 
obscure lighting she could make out the forms of couples reclining on divans 
and against cushions on the floor. Low groaning sounds could be heard, 
echoing the accompanying obscene wet sluicing sounds of flesh striking flesh 
throughout the chamber. 

"This is one place everyone escapes to." He put his arm around Jill's waist, 
drawing her close to his side as they entered the room. 

A quick appraisal of the room and the scene sent a shock of burgeoning fear 
through Jill's girlishly ripe body. Some of the figures appeared to be 
naked, and though she couldn't see them clearly, they were obviously engaged 
in various acts of sexual intercourse with one another. She flushed with 
anger and hot tears suddenly brimmed in her eyes. Gary had tricked her! She 
should have known it, but the several drinks she'd had throughout the 
evening had seriously impaired her judgement. 

"I want out of here, right now!" she said with more strength than she 
believed she contained. 

"Just watch from here," Johnson said hoarsely. "We don't have to do 
anything." 

. His hand curled around her back, bringing her close to the muscular 
hardness of his outer thighs and the side of his chest. Her will to resist 
him and leave the depraved scene dissolved momentarily as her gaze swept 
across the chamber. None of the people were recognizable in the darkness, 
yet what they were doing was clear enough to anyone with eyes to see. The 
bodies moved slowly back and forth, the cream-like whiteness of breasts and 
thighs half-shaded and half-illuminated by an infra-red light that filtered 
from the ceiling. A woman at the center of the room was bent over a man's 
outstretched loins and was raising and lowering her head over his raised 
thighs. Looking closer, Jill could see a white fleshy hardness extending 
into the girl's widely ovalled mouth. 

Jill had heard about oral sex before, but never in her life had she imagined 
she would get such a glimpse of the obscene act. A numbing fear rose in her 
body as she watched the woman's head bobbing up and down over the man's 
lower abdomen, her lips clasped tightly around his long thick penis. The 
man's cock stood hard and rigid, silhouetted in the soft red light, and Jill 
could see slight tuffs of pubic hair protruding around the edge of its thick 
base. Her eyes, now accustoming themselves to the dim light, focused on the 
details of the young woman's body kneeling over the man. Her breasts dangled 
lewdly over the tight sinews of the man's taut stomach and brushed sensually 
against his hair-covered belly as she raised and lowered her sucking mouth 
up and down over his virile hardness. 

Jill felt her balance and equilibrium grow shaky, and she leaned against her 
boss for support. At the same time, Gary Johnson tightened his arm around 
Jill's lower back, while his other hand rose and cupped the fullness of her 
rapidly rising and falling breast. 

"Let's sit down," Johnson slurred. 

"No, I want to go home. This is enough for one evening," she whimpered, 
feeling the sharp pressure of his fingers digging harshly into her slender 
waist. 

They didn't move. It was as though the moment had been extended in time and 
she was caught inside it; try as she might, her fear and shock had sealed 
her feet as if with suction cups to the floor. In front of them on the 
carpet Jill could see the woman circling her hand around the base of the 
man's vigorously upstanding cock as she sucked it in rhythm to her mouth 
sliding up and down on the wet glistening shaft. Jill saw the lean-bodied 
man flex his buttocks and bend his head, his contorted face focused on the 
wantonly exciting sight of the top of the girl's head bobbing up and down 
over the flat plane of his belly. Jill knew it must have been all the more 
stimulating to be able to watch her labor, to see her devouring the long 
length of his hardness, and to hear her obscene mewls of gurgling pleasure 
purr softly from between her working lips. 

The girl, who Jill suddenly recognized as the redhead Gary had been talking 
with earlier in the living room, seemed to sense the man's mounting lust and 
began to suck perceptibly harder, drawing her teeth and letting them dig 
gently into the thick resisting flesh as she pulled up. The girl reached 
under his buttocks, an ass-cheek in each palm, drawing his loins up to her 
face as far as she could. Now the nearly bursting cock was plunging in 
almost full length with each powerful stroke, and the rotation of his 
uplifted loins sent his sperm-laden balls careening off her chin. Jill was 
positive the redhead would choke on the massive pole of flesh, but her 
maddening sucking continued on and on. 

Jill's entire body was weakening and losing its control through the effects 
of her shock and the stimulation of alcohol. She could feel Gary's hand 
stroking gently at the full tip of her painfully sensitive breast, yet she 
didn't pull away. They were standing now at the threshold to the room, one 
of his arms curving around her small back while the other kneaded her proud 
young breast with rhythmic contractions of his palm. 

The tall men drew Jill gently into his arms, running his hand from her 
breast across the fullness of her hips and then back again along her sides 
between their bodies to the quivering mounds again. Then he pressed his 
wetly parted lips on her mouth and wormed the warm moistness of his tongue 
between her teeth. The pleasurable sensations she'd felt when he'd first 
touched her seemed to surge forth now without restraint, and suddenly she 
found herself passionately kissing him back, her hands slipping to his 
buttocks as though with a mind of their own to grasp them flutteringly for a 
moment, and then hold them tighter. His hand slid down her back and seized 
one of her full firm ass-cheeks, drawing its roundness into his palms and 
pressing inward so that her wetly throbbing pussy was pressed against the 
hard bulge in his pants. 

"We -- we shouldn't be doing this, Mr. Johnson," she breathed against the 
hardness of his chest. 

"Yes, Miss Marlin," he groaned, attempting a sarcasm that sounded forced, 
"we might muss or wrinkle our clothes!" 

Jill gazed back at the couple lying on the carpet a few yards away from 
them. Sharp gurgling sounds were being emitted from the red-haired woman's 
throat, while the man broke out into panting sighs that grew louder and more 
brittle in intensity as he approached his wild searing climax. The man's 
tensed buttocks raised and lowered furiously off the carpet as his balls 
slapped with lewd obscene force up against the subserviently kneeling girl's 
chin. Jill could see the redhead's hand slip down his muscularly straining 
thigh to cup the sperm-inflated sac of his ballooning testicles and draw 
them up against the swelling base of his cock. 

Suddenly there was an intense intake of air, and a long wailing outburst of 
breath. 

"Jesus FUCKIN' CHRIST!" the man expostulated, curving his torso up and 
seizing the girl's flaming hair in his hands, thrusting her moving head down 
over the length of his long hard pulsating flesh. 

"MMrnmmmmmmm," the woman mewled, her eyes bulging as she sucked in the 
entire long hard length of his thrusting cock. 

The man's chin fell to his chest and he watched her suck him like a starving 
child being fed a candy cane. "Cummmmmmming," he bellowed, upthrusting 
vigorously into the girl's working mouth while his buttocks danced in a lewd 
gyration of orgasming desire a few inches off the soft lush carpet. 

Jill turned away, too ashamed to watch the last agonizing movements of the 
two bodies before her. 

As she turned to Johnson, she saw another couple from the bordering couches 
slip nakedly to the floor. The new actors in the almost ritualistic drama 
commenced at once to fondle and lick at one another's heatedly aroused 
bodies, and the woman lay down and spread her legs, drawing the rather 
stockily built man's head up between her widespread thighs. 

"Take a good look at the new participants," Johnson said. "Do you recognized 
your roommate?" 

The wildness of recognition darted in a sympathetic erotic shudder through 
Jill's loins. She couldn't watch any more, she had to get out of here before 
something more serious might happen to her. "I've already seen this 
particular performance, or a variation on it," she said with more wit than 
she thought herself capable of alluding to the act of intercourse she'd 
witnessed in the adjoining bedroom at the apartment Monday night. 

"Then, I suggest we stroll down to the next room for a chat." The tall 
gray-eyed man held her dainty chin in his hand and kissed her gently on the 
mouth. 

* * * 

If Gary Johnson was a sophisticated New York character who oozed charm from 
every pore, Sam Borden was in many ways his boss' polar opposite. Chunky and 
rough hewn around the edges, he was neither as articulate as his superior, 
nor did he seem as intelligent. 

Jill watched the man and woman seated across from her, the slanting rays of 
the late morning sun shimmering through the halo of Randi's platinum hair. 
Her long, lithe legs tapering down from the curve of her hips contrasted 
with Sam's short stocky frame, and Jill compared the two of them in a moment 
of unconscious reflection, amused at the contrast they made with each other. 

"Sam's in the same boat as I am," Randi came over to Jill and stood by the 
lounge window. "We're both copy editors. But he's got ambitions to be a 
novelist, while I'd just as soon take home my paycheck and forget about 
literature after the job is over." 

"Christ," Sam Borden guffawed, coming up behind the seductively attractive 
platinum-haired girl and giving her a lascivious pat on her smooth rounded 
buttocks, "She makes it sound like I'm some sort of intellectual dilettante. 
I haven't put a serious word to paper for six years, much less thought about 
it." 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

There are certain decisions in one's life that don't lend themselves readily 
to explanation. When the passions are involved in the decision making 
process, and when something is held over those lusts of the body so that the 
subject has no choice but to submit to his or her emotions, a peculiar thing 
happens. Jill realized this as she half stumbled down the darkened hallway 
at Gary Johnson's side, even though she tried not to think about it. In so 
many words he had told her that her job was at stake and her future 
promotions at Femme Magazine depended on how she behaved with him tonight. 
She had no overriding interest in keeping her secretarial position at the 
company, but an inexplicable part of her mind rationalized to her that it 
did matter. It was almost as if she wanted to give herself to her tall, 
ruggedly handsome boss and was using the as yet unstated threat as an excuse 
for giving in to him. 

As they slipped into a bedroom alongside the orgiastic chamber where Jill 
had last seen Randi and Sam's naked bodies moving on the carpeted floor, 
Johnson flicked on an overhead light. 

"You wanted to see Wilbur Kinsby," he laughed evilly, and pointed to a 
painting overhanging a large double bed in the center of the room. "Well, 
there he is!" 

Jill looked at the painting of a rather fat, red-faced man, then turned 
away. "Is this some kind of a joke?" her voice wavered. 

"It's about as close as any of us can get to Kinsby. None of us have much to 
do with him, although we know he's here, somewhere," Johnson said 
mysteriously. 

Jill slowly inched back toward the door, her temptation of a few moments 
before to give herself to Gary Johnson suddenly seeming totally absurd. 
"I... I'm going now. I've had about as much as a person can take of all 
this," she choked, her hand outstretched behind her to grasp the doorknob. 

"I'm afraid that won't be possible," he sneered, moving swiftly behind her 
and wrenching her hand from the door. 

Jill moaned and raised her head, her eyes tear-glazed. She'd been a fool to 
be taken in by the man's enticements throughout the evening, and yet 
thinking about it quickly she knew she hadn't really been forced or 
seductively pushed into the situation against her will. It was just the 
combination of the alcohol she'd consumed and witnessing the obscene 
proceedings in the next room, plus Johnson's veiled threats that had 
contributed to what was happening now. 

She struggled to get past him to the door, but his hand came down hard on 
the smoothness of her shoulder and held her fast. "Please let me go," she 
tried to sound reasonable. "I don't want anything more to do with you." 

"Jill, be quiet," Johnson's eyes narrowed as he spun her around to face him. 
She could feel his hot breath grazing on her neck, and then she saw one of 
his hands drop from her bare sloping shoulder to the pear-shaped roundness 
of her breast. "Relax and enjoy what I'm going to do to you. It's sort of a 
ritual every girl goes through. Even Randi's done it!" 

Jill stared wildly at his alcohol flushed face and pulled back helplessly 
from the greedy devouring glance he shot at her. "You mean... Randi... you, 
and she...?" 

"Exactly!" he laughed. "That might explain our little conflict. But since 
I've broken the girl in she's changed, quite perceptibly, I might add." 

Jill lurched backward, but his free hand gripped her neck, sending a sharp 
shooting pain down her upper back, reaffirming the fact that she was no 
match for him physically. When she tried with one last desperate effort to 
pull away, his hand clenched with a painful contraction against the 
searingly pulsating tip of her breast... her vision dimmed momentarily, and 
then she was lifted up from the floor and seemed to be floating in mid-air 
across the room, then falling or being dropped down like a light fluttering 
feather onto the incredible softness of the huge double bed. She spilled out 
on the mattress, her legs and arms akimbo, muttering feverish pleas for him 
to release her; but then he was settled down beside her quivering young 
body, resting back on the palms of his hands. 

"Oh God," Jill sobbed and sat up weakly on the bed. "What do you want me to 
do? Just what is all this about?" 

Again his hand came down to knead her frantically quivering breast, this 
time capturing her erect little nipple between his thumb and forefinger and 
tweaking it with such force that she moaned in pained protest. 

"Don't ask questions," he said with an evil tenderness. "Everything will be 
clear to you as time goes on. Right now, just relax." 

She jerked forward on the side of the bed as Johnson's hand let go of her 
breast and tore at the front buttons of her open necked summer dress, 
tearing it down to her waist. His gray-blue eyes lit on her half-exposed 
nakedness, his breath coming quickly as he looked down to where her 
minidress had pulled up over her gently curving thighs. 

The gray-eyed man chuckled. "For three years I've wanted a woman like you. 
It's not easy to find one without spending a helluva lot of time, but when 
you sent your snap-shot along with the application form, I knew we had a 
goddamn beauty." 

Gary moved his hand down the side of her dress, playing for a moment at the 
hem, then slid up the remaining material all the way up to her hips. For a 
moment Jill felt like screaming, but then she realized it would do no 
good... practically everyone at the party was naked... they would think her 
a fool! There was nothing she could do but endure the large framed man's 
pawing of her voluptuous young body, and hope he'd suddenly lost interest. 

But he didn't. 

Her hands clutched at his fingers, trying to pry them loose from the grasp 
he now had on the softness of her inner thighs. "Oh no, stop... please... 
stop!" Jill moaned, but the chief editor ignored her pleas, continuing his 
obscene exploration until his fingers were caressing her fearfully cringing 
cuntal mound through the little white bikini panties. 

"Now... baby, please open your legs," Johnson whispered lewdly, trying to 
insert his outstretched middle finger under the tight elastic leg band of 
her panties. 

The horrified girl sat rigidly on the side of the bed. She was unable to 
comprehend that this vile person was the same man who only a few hours ago 
was warning her of the evil influence of her roommate. It seemed odd that 
he'd done that, but with his confession that he'd once made love to the 
platinum-haired girl, the realization that Randi might have something 
against the senior editor and that his complaints about her might be founded 
on a personal grudge focused with startling clarity in her mind. 

"Godddd!" she cried out, pulling away when she felt his fingers brutally 
digging into the sensitive flesh of her inner thighs. He squeezed again, 
sending a razor-sharp slice of pain rippling up her spine. Jill opened her 
legs a little and felt him loosen his grip. 

"More!" Johnson commanded. "Wider!" 

One of his hands gripped her shoulder and pushed her back so that the 
quivering young girl lay flat on the wide double bed, her dress raised 
completely up over her panties and her long, lithe legs splayed out far 
apart. He shifted his weight downward, now planting his hand over the smooth 
white nylon covering her loins. 

Jill jerked up from the impact of his touch, but the vise-like grip of his 
hand now encircling her neck was too great. She fell back, jerking slightly 
once more when she felt his talon-like fingers dig into the soft pliant 
flesh of her buttocks. Then, groaning lewdly deep in his thrust, he yanked 
at the tight elastic waistband of her panties. The elastic snapped and 
almost before the terrified young girl realized what was happening, her 
panties were pulled down to her ankles in one vicious tug, exposing the 
entire secret area of her loins to the panting older man's lewd gaze. 

"Oh, God, no, " she gasped at her own nakedness, trying to cover the softly 
curling black pubic hair between her legs with her hands. But it was 
useless. She felt her panties fall from her feet onto the floor, but when 
she reached out over the bed, trying to retrieve them, Johnson caught the 
top of her dress in his fingers, pulling the flared opening completely apart 
and tugging the dress from her back to drop it with her panties onto the 
floor. 

"You make it so much harder, honey, than it really has to be," he said in a 
thin, sharp voice. 

"It's not everyday I get raped," she snapped back at him, showing more spunk 
than the tall chestnut-haired man thought she had. 

"Touche," Johnson said, "but it doesn't have to be like this," he repeated 
as she rolled her head away so that she wouldn't be forced to look at his 
passion-strained face. 

Jill knew she had to give in. If it weren't for the fact that an orgy was 
going on in the next room, she supposed she would have been able to 
extricate herself from the situation, but now her protesting screams would 
mean absolutely nothing. 

His hands coursed up her trembling young thighs, resting teasingly just 
below her raven-black pussy hair for an instant before they caressed the 
moistly waiting lips of her cunt. She shuddered at his touch, but he 
continued circling his fingers over her blushing pink pussy, spreading the 
wetly pulsating lips wide to expose her clitoris and bringing out the tiny 
pleasure center to thrusting erection. 

Jill forced herself to remain still, knowing that she had to accept this 
despicable rape. She wanted to get it over with as soon as possible and it 
would be foolish of her to struggle against him, since he seemed to enjoy 
prolonging the painful process as long as he could. 

"Now are you ready to cooperate, or do you think kicking around like this is 
going to take the place of me fucking you?" Johnson rasped in a 
liquor-slurred voice, his fingers continuing their maddening assault, 
caressing her warmly throbbing pussy. She tried to stifle a throaty mewl as 
her love-starved loins involuntarily moved with his finger. She tried to 
force herself to lie still and not react to the slowly building sensations 
that rippled out from her vaginal area... but she couldn't! 

"Yessss... yessss... Miss Marlin," Johnson hissed, moving closer and 
straddling her legs as his hands worked over her hotly quivering cunt. 
"Now... reach in and take out my cock." 

A low shudder of unexpected lust passed through Jill's struggling belly at 
his demand. She clenched her teeth tightly, fighting with all her strength 
at her unwanted sensuality, yet her will seemed to crumble as he coursed his 
hand over the smooth fleshy folds guarding the entrance to her virginal 
vagina. She could feel soft ripples of electric pleasure quivering in her 
hardening nipples beneath her brassiere, and she sensed the muscles in her 
full firm thighs relax. She rose toward Johnson, stretching out one hand to 
obediently stroke the outline of the large protuberance that bulged along 
his left flank. 

"Dammmmmmmn!" he groaned and pivoted his groin closer to her fingers that 
deftly pulled at his belt. He wiggled forward, his stomach heaving against 
her belly, so that the zipper of his slacks was within easy grasp. She 
gripped the metal clasp of his pants, and slid it down slowly. The large 
bulge of his underpants sprang out instantly, bulging with the obscene 
thrust of his eagerly throbbing cock. 

Despite her revulsion, Jill Marlin moved her hands greedily inside the white 
clasp of the man's shorts, immediately gripping her hands I around the warm 
pulsating penis that seemed to leap up into the glove-fitting warmth of her 
hand. She squeezed, tentatively at first, and pulled with her other hand at 
the band of his underwear, tugging his shorts and slacks down till they 
clung to Johnson's knees. The entire long length of his thick blue-veined 
cock stood out only a few inches from her eyes, the head swollen angrily and 
it's skin stretched so tightly that it seemed to shine. Her whole reaction 
was inexplicable and incomparable to anything she'd ever felt before. Her 
closeness to his throbbing virility under the bright lights of the bedroom 
gave her a complete view of the thick rod of male flesh in sharp detail, 
making the experience of seeing her boy friend's cock in the dim light of 
her family living room last summer seem pale and inconsequential by 
comparison. 

"Let's take off our clothes now, honey," Johnson said, kissing her hungrily 
again. "There's no use messing around any longer." 

Without waiting for his aroused brunette secretary to respond, and with his 
cock still thrust into her virginal hand, Gary undid the remaining buttons 
on her dress and unclasped her brassiere, exposing her proud young breasts 
to his obscene gaze. He let the brassiere drop carelessly to the floor, 
still fastening his gaze on her goose-bumped little nipples. 

The ceiling whirled above Jill's head until it was blotted out by Johnson's 
leering face moving over hers, his mocking eyes laughing at her glazed look 
of defeat and hopeless acceptance of her position. He kicked his pants to 
the floor and began a slow grinding motion with his pelvis against her 
nakedly upturned loins, rubbing the blunt head of his cock against her 
warmly moistened cuntal lips. The monstrous blood-engorged head traced a 
tantalizing hot path of hungering need up and down the length of her wetly 
glistening slit, probing gently against it until the moist pussy lips parted 
and the sensitive under ridge of his fleshy hardness fit snugly within her 
warm cuntal furrow. 

He ground slowly and steadily against her, causing a warm glowing sensation 
that tingled salaciously from the bud of her quivering little clitoris down 
through the swollen vaginal lips and into her warmly dilating cuntal 
passage. The thought that she had already given in, that she had not shown 
much of a fight against the man who panted over her, raced through her mind, 
her resistance had been partially broken down earlier that evening by the 
alcohol and the lust-inciting view of the participants in the orgy, but she 
now realized that she had decided to do this even before she'd accompanied 
Johnson into the bedroom. She had known that his suggestion that they meet 
Wilbur Kinsby, the enigmatic publisher, had been a ruse to get her in 
here... and perhaps, even before that, last week at lunch with Gary Johnson, 
she'd been planning unconsciously to permit herself to be seduced by him. 

As the pleasure continued to mount in electric spasms around the muscular 
man's patient probings at her warmly moist vaginal opening, she began to 
rationalize away the need for more struggle against him. Yes, she had known 
before she had even felt his thick pulsating penis through his trousers that 
she would give in. All she needed was some kind of spark to reignite the 
fire that had begun two months ago in her quiet Mid-western home when her 
boy friend had come to premature orgasm and covered her eagerly quivering 
thighs with his too-impatient sperm. But now the desire was more than a 
symbolic need to lose her virginity: It was real, alive with eager lust 
flames that licked furiously through her virginal loins. But still... her 
conscious mind fought against the torment of his hotly teasing probes, 
fighting against surrender to it, although knowing he was only moments away 
from total victory. 

"Nooo, nooo, please," she groaned beneath the face that pressed obscenely 
against her tear-stained cheeks, her hips suddenly betraying her resisting 
unconscious mind. Her softly fleshed buttocks moved in small circles, hardly 
perceptible at first, but rotating in slight undulating rhythm to the 
sluicing motion of his cock that rummaged over her hotly palpitating groin. 
The hair on his legs played against the tender backs of the upraised columns 
of her thighs, expanding the lewdly exciting sensation that burned in her 
loins and seared the tingling nerve endings of her ripe young pussy. 

Almost reverently then, she lifted her knees up and around the older man's 
strained calves. Her heels hooked behind his knees and with a low moan of 
animal hunger her arms snaked around his neck, pulling his lips wetly down 
against hers. He jammed his tongue into her mouth and she sucked voraciously 
on it, soft mewling sounds escaping through the warmly sucking juncture of 
her lips. She undulated her hungering pussy mound in a few impatient thrusts 
against his hot pulsating hardness, trying to draw it into her wetly waiting 
cunt at once. 

"Ooooh," she pled below him, sucking up against his lips as his tongue took 
complete mastery of her mouth. 

Johnson used the large rubbery head of his thick cock to part her softly 
curling pussy hairs, meeting only a slight resistance at the hot searing 
entrance to her passage. Pausing for a moment, he nuzzled his lust-swollen 
tip around in a throbbing semi-circle until her tight little cuntal mouth 
suddenly gave and his virile hardness sluiced warmly inside her virginal 
cunt. 

"Aaaiiieee! God... stop, you're hurting me!" She jerked and screamed as he 
painfully ruptured at her seal and symbol of virginity, feeling her hymen 
ripping like tissue paper with his next merciless thrust through the tight 
passage. The sensation was sharp and more agonizing emotionally than she had 
expected the loss of her innocence to be... the vicious way her virginity 
was being taken from her did not match with her childhood vision of what had 
once been a cherished, almost religious moment of mutual ecstasy between her 
and her partner. 

Her mind was split between revulsion and a kind of pleasurable wonder at the 
way his hotly throbbing cock felt as it wormed its way through the tight 
clasping folds of her painfully stretched cunt. Deep, deep he plunged in 
wildly jerking movements coming from the pit of his loins with a sudden 
animal-like fury that matched the gritting man's lust-contorted appearance. 
Jill groaned, her lips opening and closing spasmodically and her tongue 
running lightly over her pain-tightened lips. 

"Ooooh, yessss," he moaned as his cum-filled balls slapped against her 
defenselessly upturned buttocks, her tight little pussy opening wetly for 
him as the impact of his thrust drove her trembling young thighs even wider 
apart. 

The length and thickness of Johnson's huge throbbing cock was even greater 
than Jill had imagined when she had first plucked it from his shorts, and it 
seemed now to fill her vaginal cavity completely, brimming out at its base 
from her clinging pussy Ups and forcing her tightly fitting passage wider 
than she thought was humanly possible. She gurgled up at him, suddenly 
wanting to be fucked to the point of being hurt... a strange desire, she 
thought, for the first time doing it... she wanted to feel every ounce of 
her innocent womanhood being subjugated to the cruel impaling thrusts of the 
man she'd known for scarcely a week. It was as though in giving herself to 
him she was erasing a past that had always been an embarrassment to her. She 
wanted to leap into the future, to become a complete woman... and in a 
grotesque way she connected her defilement with a blind, mindless plunge 
into the forbidden pleasure that now awaited her as an adult. It was all an 
insane jumble in her mind, and she hardly cared at this point what motivated 
her to give herself like a whore to the gray-eyed man who fucked so 
thrillingly into the tight clasping portals of her femaledom. 

Something had snapped inside her. 

She found herself crooning lewd obscenities into Johnson's ear, at the same 
time feeling a delicious relief, as though the years of puritanical 
repression had damned up a flood of lewdness deep inside her. She murmured 
words like shit and fuck and cunt and others that she had made up herself 
from the wealth of slavish lust that had lain dormant for so many years 
beyond her facade of normalcy and middle-class respectability. 

"Oh shit, fuck me you bastard, screw me, you fucking bastard," she screamed, 
deliberately digging her nails into his rhythmically pumping buttocks. 

Johnson gloated above her, knowing that he had ignited her fire... and that 
he could put it out. 

He pivoted up on his knees and elbows above her crazily thrashing body, 
permitting her tight little cunt to suck up and down the pulsating length of 
his rock-hard shaft at will. 

"Oh yes, fuck me like that, do it, do it!" she repeated hoarsely, her voice 
rising an octave in delight. 

Johnson slipped his hands under her quivering young ass-cheeks, cupping one 
in each hand. The shamelessly aroused secretary flexed and unflexed her 
buttocks beneath his fingers, and he jerked her harder up to his loins, 
feeling her pull her thighs back a little more, the moistly flowering 
opening of her pussy dilating and clasping around his racing cock with each 
cruel thrust and withdrawal he made into her. 

Johnson was surprised at the hot responsiveness of the young virgin. She'd 
been resistant at first, but when the little bitch got going, there was no 
stopping her. From the first day she'd stepped into his office, he'd wanted 
to get into her hot little pants. As he squeezed and fondled the naked 
rounded globes, he recalled how Jill Marlin had looked on Monday with her 
miniskirt exposing her firm young thighs and the full points of her breasts 
dancing seductively as he had walked beside her down Lexington Avenue to the 
restaurant. 

Slowly and methodically, he slid one hand toward the tight little aperture 
of her anus, resting his extended finger on the sweat- dampened flesh of her 
puckering anal opening. He felt her soft warm buttocks tense up beneath his 
hands when he poked at the moistly unprotected crevice and then felt her 
push back, voluntarily impaling herself on his outstretched finger. With a 
sudden stab he pushed into it, feeling the soft rubbery flesh yielding 
before his attack. 

"Aaaaaggghhh!" she squealed up at him, wiggling her smoothly pumping 
ass-cheeks around in his cupping hands. 

He thrust forward with his hips, driving his rock-hard cock deep in her 
wetly throbbing pussy and groaned in satisfaction as she came down hard with 
her buttocks, completing the outrageous attack against her defenseless 
rectum herself. 

The lewdly grinning man had lodged his finger all the way up to the second 
knuckle within his new secretary's tiny rubbery anus. He wormed it around, 
curling the fingertip so that he could feel the ridge of his own cock 
through the thin membrane that separated the two passages. The defenseless 
young woman rotated her buttocks tentatively on the shaft, gasps of 
pain-pleasure bubbling from her lips as she jerked up and down with her 
hotly palpitating cunt on the thick fleshy stalk of his cock that continued 
fucking incessantly into her. The coinciding rhythms of the dual invasion 
pinioned her tightly so that each thrust and counterthrust of her wantonly 
writhing buttocks seemed to send her naked young torso into buffeting spasms 
of lust-incited fury, her long brunette hair spilling in a wild dark tangle 
over the pillow and her legs snaking lewdly around his gyrating thighs. 

"Oooooh, yes, stick your finger up my ass like that, Gary, fuck me, yeeees, 
fuck me," she commanded in a voice that was almost incoherent with desire. 

She moved one hand close between the hot convacity of their loins and pushed 
her fingers below until they came to rest on the sac of his sperm-inflated 
balls. They felt soft and velvety, and beneath their fleshy folds she could 
feel the contours of his testicles resting gently against the tips of her 
fingers. She squeezed lightly and ever so softly, caressing the delicate 
ridge between them and moving slowly upwards toward the base of his cock 
that sprang up from the thick coarse hair of his loins like a hammer handle. 
She could feel his own hand with its finger in her anus barely a half inch 
from where her own fingers rested and from moment to moment the two hands 
brushed each other as they continued their erotic pillaging of one another's 
secret parts. 

"Jeeesssssus," the older man moaned when she reached down again and gripped 
the balloon-like sac of his testicles more firmly in her hand. He increased 
the strength of his thrusts, driven on by her gentle ministrations, ramming 
the entire length of his pile-driving cock all the way into the deepest 
hidden recesses of her cunt. She could feel the blunt rubbery head strike 
against her cervix as it completed its long smooth stroke. He pulled his 
lust-hardened cock out more slowly than he had driven it in, and the soft 
moist ridges of her pussy gripped his hardness as though reluctant to let it 
go. 

"Oooooh, God, oh so good, so goooood," she groaned as though in anguish, her 
fiery vaginal depths hot and moistening rapidly in her pleasure, while the 
rubbery channel of her rectum was filled now with two of his fingers that 
continued fucking her from behind. 

Johnson pulled back his head so that he could watch the voluptuous 
small-framed girl's face. It was something her boss couldn't miss, the 
sudden humiliating surrender of her whole being to him who had tom her 
virginity from her in a forced rape-seduction she'd been powerless to fight 
against. A few short hours ago she'd been as pure and virginal as the snow 
that probably covered her small Mid-western hometown at Christmas time, and 
now she was writhing and twisting like a mindless whore beneath him, unable 
to control at all her wild desire to be fucked by his hotly plunging cock 
and sodomized by his fingers. Yes, it was lewd, it was depraved, and he 
couldn't help feeling a strange sense of vengeful power sweep over him. The 
feeling was intensified when he thought of how he would be able to 
manipulate the girl after he was through with her for the night. The power 
that he had lost over Randi, who had now grown too goddamn sophisticated for 
him and had taken up with Sam Borden, was his once more, and it made what he 
was doing to this naive girl trembling in the throes of near-orgasm seem all 
the more delicious and brutally satisfying. 

"Oooh, oh, deeper, harder, fuck me, fuck me," she begged, gasping as though 
she were close to death. Wet smacking sounds reverberated through the 
luxuriously furnished bedroom, echoing back to Jill's consciousness as 
though she were confronting the horrified vision of her second self. In a 
dim part of her mind she was aware of the complete depravity of the scene. 
She knew that in the next room people were doing lewd obscene things to each 
other... knew also that giving herself to Gary Johnson was equivalent to 
whoring her body in order to save her job, even though that job wasn't as 
important as the act which would temporarily salvage it. As she peered up 
into Johnson's face, it seemed as though the portrait of Wilbur Kinsby 
hanging from the wall winked at her. She turned her face away from it, 
feeling more naked than she actually was, and gave herself completely to the 
man who fucked into her like a wild stallion. 

Her sensual young body was slick with moisture. The area above her eagerly 
quivering breasts was wet with perspiration, and the sloping area of her 
pussy mound was hot with the mingled lust-juices that seemed to spill out in 
an unending flow from her moistly dilating vagina. With each loud slap of 
his balls on the wet crevice of her ass she could feel more of her excited 
secretions pulse out, combining into a sense-picture in her mind with every 
lewd detail of his obscene pummeling body: The double shaft of his two 
fingers worming inside her tightly stretched rectum merged also with the 
incessant jerking of his hotly growing cock until the two skewering shafts 
became one impaling sword up on which she writhed like a stuck squealing 
pig. 

"Oh shit, Gary, do it! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she chanted into his 
lust-contorted face. She was nearing orgasm and swung her thighs up higher 
and wound them around his back, waving her wantonly writhing buttocks in 
uncontrolled abandon from side to side and spiraling her cunt up and down 
crazily on his thick ramming cock. 

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming," she suddenly cried, locking her ankles in a 
death grip high up on his laboring back. Her nakedly convulsing body shook 
and arched high as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled Johnson's 
face close to her own. 

She felt the muscles of her groin expand and contract, her hotly pulsating 
cuntal lips grasping around his hard-driving cock as a hot flood of orgasmic 
fluid flowed down the wide-split crevice of her ass to inundate his 
sperm-filled balls and his fingers thrust into her frantically puckering 
anus. 

The wildness of the naked young brunette's orgasm started an aching pressure 
in Johnson's loins, and suddenly he felt his cum-filled balls explode. He 
pulled his fingers from her rectum and dug his hands into the soft flesh of 
her wildly rotating buttocks and drew her nakedly thrashing body up in 
mid-air as great gasps of passion began spewing from his own throat. 

"Oh, Christ, oh!" his voice cracked, and his lips contorted and face flushed 
as his climax ripped through him. His strokes increased to their peak of 
fury; his pelvis smacked like a flat board against her eagerly upthrust 
belly as the first spurt of his geysering hot cum shot out from the head of 
his cock and exploded deep down into the liquid depths of her vanquished 
pussy. 

The two of them pulled slowly away from each other. Moments later, their 
limbs still entwined, Jill finally became aware of where she was and 
suddenly she felt the full weight of her lewdly abandoned actions upon her. 
She stood up from the large double bed and began gathering her clothing that 
had been strewn carelessly onto the floor. 

"You did just fine, honey," Gary Johnson looked languidly across at the girl 
whose voluptuous profile reflected back at him from a mirror over the 
bureau. 

"You think so?" she dropped her eyes coldly onto his flushed body lying 
outstretched on the bed. 

There was a strange new quality in her voice that Johnson hadn't noticed 
before, and he drew himself up against the headboard of the bed. 

"I'm glad." She spun around, her large melony breasts quivering as she 
dipped to the floor to pick up her panties that had slipped from her hands. 
"I think Mr. Kinsby approves as well." She gazed at the large portrait 
hanging above the bed. 

Gary Johnson was unable to see the small droplets of tears forming on Jill's 
brimming eyelids, nor from his perspective across the room could he make out 
her sudden rash of goose-pimples that rushed around the fully ripened orbs 
of her breasts and shot down the smooth naked length of her back into her 
violated loins. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Through the last days of September and early October Jill Marlin worked late 
each day at Femme Magazine, typing additional manuscripts and editing extra 
copy. There was no earthly reason she had to do this, but it made her day 
pass quickly and helped her forget her troubles. 

On weekends she'd leave the apartment early in the morning and spend most of 
her day exploring New York. The long walks up and down the criss-crossing 
avenues and side streets were inevitably accompanied by thoughts the pretty 
young brunette had tried to escape by leaving the apartment. Had she been a 
terrible fool in letting Gary Johnson make love to her that fateful night at 
the company party? During the three weeks since it had happened she'd 
managed to establish a rather cool and distant relationship with the senior 
editor and his staff, and it almost seemed as though Gary had forgotten the 
incident. 

It was doubtful that he'd given the encounter much importance, Jill thought; 
he was probably used to things of that order happening to him, but to her 
the obscene act of submission and her subsequent pleasure that had been 
impossible to conceal represented a dramatic turning point in her life. She 
had changed incalculably, and had grown somewhat bitter. She supposed, in 
the long run, the long-awaited surrender of her virginity was a good thing, 
though she wished it could have happened in a gentler, more loving manner. 
In subtle ways the reactions of people around her had changed too. The 
following week after the party Randi and Sam had avoided her glances, and 
she guessed that they had known she'd given herself to her boss, if not 
through supposition then by hearing it from Gary himself. 

Now, as she entered Central Park, the autumn sunlight filtering through the 
red and gold colored leaves and the relative quiet of the afternoon 
transformed the disturbing quality of her thoughts into tranquil musings. 
Leaving the apartment this morning, she'd seen Randi standing in her robe 
with a cigarette and a cup of coffee, peering abstractly out the window. The 
voluptuous blonde, seeing Jill, had hunched up her shoulders as though a 
sudden draft had blown across the room. The gesture seemed to shun Jill, to 
brand her as an outcast, but then her roommate had said in her soft melodic 
voice, "Why don't we have lunch in the park this afternoon. Around two 
o'clock. I've something important to talk to you about." 

There had been a strange tone to the girl's short, clipped phrase which had 
steeled the petite dark-haired young woman, perhaps unnecessarily, to their 
meeting which was to take place in a few minutes here at the shaded juncture 
of two paths and a row of hedges that gave onto the edge of the park. Jill 
didn't know why the two of them couldn't talk about whatever Randi had in 
mind in the apartment, but the older girl liked little intrigues and 
frequently played a guessing game. 

There was one thing Jill had tried to force out of her mind that had 
occurred a few nights after that party, and maybe the meeting of today had 
something to do with this. On Monday night of the following week, Randi had 
complained of a backache and a splitting migraine, and had asked Jill to 
give her a back-rub. It seemed, at the time, a reasonable enough request, 
and the small-framed girl had come alongside Randi on her large double bed 
and begun rubbing and kneading at the firm smoothness of the blonde's 
nakedly exposed back, massaging the taut contours of flesh along her 
rib-cage on down to the tapering narrowness of her voluptuous roommate's 
waist. 

Lighting a cigarette, Jill now recalled how warm Randi's smoothly arching 
back had felt, and remembered how the girl's well-proportioned body had 
begun undulating to the tender ministrations of her working fingers. "God, 
Jill, that really feels good," Randi had turned and smiled pleasurably. 
"Move your hand on down to my ass... yesssss, like that, just squeeze it a 
little and make it feel relaxed." 

Jill, dressed in her flimsy white nightgown, had slid her hands down the 
naked white curve of Randi's warmly fleshed buttocks, squeezing and 
massaging the ripe full moons in her hands until a warm tingling sensation 
began to race uncontrollably through her own young body. 

"That's enough," Randy had suddenly turned over, facing her. Jill's eyes 
tried to avoid the gently uplifting spheres of her roommate's large 
pink-nippled breasts, but the gesture of shyness called attention to itself. 
"Let me do it to you, honey," Randi had said. "There's nothing to be afraid 
of. We're not lesbians!" 

Jill had laughed nervously, feeling her own body commanding her to submit to 
the same thing she'd been doing to Randi. She'd pulled off her transparent 
negligee, dropping it at the foot of the bed and lay face-down beside the 
blonde. She had felt a warning shudder pass through her at the girl's touch, 
but soon relaxed as her soothing hands began coursing with tender erotic 
strokes over the smooth upstanding ridges of her spine, down -- as her own 
hands had coursed -- to the firm raised cheeks of her ass. 

"Mmmmmm," Jill had sighed, feeling the relief her girl friend had promised. 

Soon the sensations of relaxation were changing perceptibly into gently 
building little tingles of pleasure. Unconsciously, Jill had rubbed the 
silken hair-covered mound of her hungering young pussy into the mattress as 
the magic hands had continued to move up and down the small of her back and 
over the firmly rounded curvatures of her buttocks. She had known, she 
recalled now, that what they were doing was going past the stage of physical 
therapy and entering the limbo of sensuality beyond which there was the 
deliciously forbidden promise of sexual pleasure. Yet she permitted Randi's 
hands to continue on in teasingly insistent strokes over the lush nakedness 
of her buttocks and down for an obscenely threatening moment over the sleek, 
hairless flesh of her inner thighs. Jill had shifted onto her side, and 
suddenly Randi's hand stroked up her back and across her arm to the full 
quivering mound of her left breast, pausing to taunt her warmly tingling 
nipple into hardness with a knowing feminine touch. Then she trailed down 
her ribs tantalizingly as Jill shifted her position until they were facing 
each other. 

In overwhelming disbelief, Jill had stared wide-eyed at the voluptuously 
curving body of the girl whose intimate touches were exciting beyond 
anything she believed at that moment a man could offer her... experienced 
touches, educated by a woman's intuition, and informed by a feminine desire 
to have those soft lewd caresses reciprocated in kind. 

"Maybe we should stop," Jill had protested while Randi's lushly naked body 
seemed to tremble as it pressed with a salacious and provocative tightness 
against her own. 

"We're not doing anything wrong!" Randi had chided softly, her lips parting 
only to emit the words, then moistening from a suggestive swirl of her 
tongue that seemed a lewd invitation to kiss her openly on the mouth. But 
Jill didn't; she had risen from the bed, her confidence in herself badly 
shaken, and had trudged silently down the hall to her own bedroom. 

Nothing had been said about the incident, but Jill knew there was a residue 
of feeling about what had occurred that lingered erotically between the two 
of them. Now she looked at her watch and saw that it was after two, and 
Randi still hadn't shown up. She sat back against the park bench, letting a 
cool breeze through the foliage flow caressingly against her back. Her 
thoughts of Randi and her friendship with the girl slowly merged with vague 
questions in her mind about what she planned to do with her job; but as 
always she couldn't bring herself to confront the problem. She knew she had 
to make a decision soon, yet as the days slipped by she had postponed it, as 
though the very act of thinking about it would bring back the painful 
recollection of her lewd shameful submission to Gary Johnson. 

Speaking of Gary Johnson, Jill's eyes and mind slipped from abstraction into 
the reality of a man's tall form walking down the path beneath the trees 
toward her. It was the senior editor of the magazine and he was alone. 
Jill's mind suddenly became a jumble of unanswered questions. She felt her 
stomach tighten and her long tapering legs tremble in a premonition that 
also registered in a sudden quickening of her heartbeat. 

"I know you've been expecting Randi," Johnson said as he approached her. 

"You caught me thinking about you," Jill looked up at his handsome 
sun-covered face. 

"That must have been exciting." He dropped down on the wooden park bench 
beside her. 

"Not really, just confusing. Probably just coincidental," she said. 

"Randi couldn't come. I was at the apartment while Sam and she were there, 
and couldn't help overhearing her talking to Sam," he said. 

"Just what is all this about?" 

"I warned Randi if she bothered you about anything I'd have her job. I know 
I pushed you a little too far at the company party, and I figured you'd had 
it." 

"To tell you the truth, I have," she said, turning toward him, "but what 
does this have to do with you being here and Randi not showing up. 

"I happened to eavesdrop on an interesting conversation... Randi and Sam 
knew about us... the two of them got wind about what we were doing at 
Kinsby's party, and Randi's threatening to tell the boss about it." 

"Surely what we did was no worse than what was going on in the next room," 
Jill said, recalling the scene in the large orgiastic chamber adjoining the 
bedroom they'd gone into that night. 

"Yeah, but there are company rules about stuff like that." He paused and lit 
a cigarette. "Anything goes at Kinsby's brawls as long as everybody is 
properly initiated into the club. Everybody's got to be willing to 
participate." 

"I can hardly say I was willing," she said, and then in a faltering tone 
added, "I suppose she's got some kind of little scheme worked out." 

"Exactly," he said with an uneasy shift of his weight closer to her. "But 
there's nothing much she can do now. I've got her in a position where she'd 
be crazy if she said anything to Kinsby. Absolutely crazy." 

"You mean her job? What difference would it make if he knew?" she said 
rather angrily, resenting the fact that she'd bothered to stay on at the 
magazine after the night of the party. 

"I hope Kinsby trusts my word over Randi's. That's the only thing I can hope 
for." 

Jill stood up. "I think I'll go home. This whole thing leaves a sour taste 
in my mouth." 

"Mine, too." He rose from the bench. "Mind if I walk you back to the 
apartment?" 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Sam and Randi had hidden themselves in the bathroom when they heard Jill and 
her boss' voices out in the hall. Randi, grappling for the light switch in 
the dark, bumped awkwardly against the short thickly built man, and he 
stepped on her right foot. There was a loud smack as the girl lost her 
balance and fell crashing against the side of the tub. 

"Damnit, Sam, how can you be so clumsy?" she raised her voice painfully at 
him through the darkness. 

He helped the girl up off the floor. "Better leave the light off. We want to 
get some good pictures of this. It would destroy everything if the girl sees 
us," he whispered. 

"I wonder if Gary knows what he's doing. It's going to be hard getting her 
going the way she was at Kinsby's again." 

"I wouldn't worry about it," Sam Borden lowered his voice. "Let's just hope 
we don't mess up." 

Randi sat down on the edge of the tub, making out the dim silhouette of the 
man standing by the sink. "It depends on a lot of things," she said, trying 
to make herself comfortable on the porcelain-topped siding of the bath. 
"Open the door a crack and see what they're doing." 

Sam slipped the door gently from the jamb, and gradually wedged it open 
until a centimeter of light shone into the bathroom. Then he closed it 
again. "He's making her a drink." 

"I wonder how many it's going to take?" Randi said with exasperation. 

"If you hadn't been so goddamned left-handed at the party we might have 
gotten the pictures then," Sam sighed, and crouched down on the floor. 

"It was you who got plastered, if I recall," Randi hissed across at him. 

"Honey," he reached across the narrow tiled floor and patted her leg, "you 
can't take pictures without film. You were the one who forgot to load the 
fucking camera." 

"Open the door and see what they're doing," Randi said. 

A crack of light shot into the room and then it was dark again. "He must 
have made a pass at her," Sam turned to the girl sitting on the edge of the 
tub. "She's crying. He's doing okay, though. They're on the couch. Gary's 
got his arm around her and he's kissing her neck." 

"How delightful," Randi said. "Has he got her blouse off yet?" 

"Christ!" He inched the door open wider. "He's running his goddamn hand over 
her tits and she's not doing anything." 

"Does she like it?" Randi asked anxiously. "Like I said, she's not doing 
anything. But she looks excited. She's got this funny habit of trying to 
pull away from him, but each time she does it, he pushes down against her on 
the sofa." Randi could hear a low moaning sound coming through the door. 
"What's happening now?" 

"He just kissed her." Sam turned to her in the darkness and then peered 
through the crack. "Now she's kissing him back. It's definitely not rape 
this time. Man, this would make a great movie!" 

"With you as star producer and director!" Randi laughed quietly. 

"You're wrong, baby." Sam didn't turn from the door. "Wilbur Kinsby's the 
impresario of this production." 

"I hope he's dam well satisfied with the work we do for him," Randi said. 

"Now he's taking off her blouse," Sam said hoarsely. "He's got it off and 
he's unsnapped her brassiere, he paused and swallowed. "Christ, what a pair 
of knockers she's got. Man, would I like to get my hands on those!" 

"Hold your horses," Randy said softly. "What's happening now?" 

"He's licking and sucking her tits." 

Randi felt a tingling warmth rush feather-like through her loins. She could 
imagine her brunette roommate's full sensuous breasts cupped warmly in Gary 
Johnson's hands, could almost feel the way the chief editor's fingers felt 
coursing over the nakedly full mounds. She raised her hands to her own 
lushly ripe breasts and squeezed one of her nipples through her sweater with 
thumb and forefinger. "What's happening now?" she asked excitedly. 

"Jesus!" Sam leaned closer against the door. "What's happening?" 

"He's still sucking her tits." 

"Does she like it?" 

"Well, she's not too disturbed about it. Gary's got a hard-on that won't 
quit. You can see it through his pants." 

"God, I've got to see!" Randi stood from the tub and came alongside her boy 
friend. 

Randi's eyes took time adjusting to the sudden glare coming from the crack, 
but gradually her eyes focused on the nakedly rounded mounds of Jill's 
breasts that seemed to be shimmering in and out of the older man's hands. It 
was extraordinary, but the girl's hand had slipped down to Gary's thigh, and 
she was running her palm softly up and down his straining pants' leg. 

"Incredible!" Sam whistled beneath his breath. 

"Like magic," Randi said. "Should I get the camera?" 

"No, wait. There's more yet." 

If Jill had given in almost willingly this time, it was because she'd begun 
to feel, during the brief hour she'd spent with Gary this afternoon, an 
inexplicable attachment to the man. After surrendering her virginity to him, 
she had an insatiable need to feel wanted and not shunned by him, and now 
that he'd told her of Randi and Sam's blackmailing scheme, in a vague, 
undefined way she felt a sense of solidarity with Gary Johnson that each of 
his warm caresses was transforming into the burgeoning physically charged 
sensation of lust. There was no fear this time when he'd removed her blouse 
and brassiere and begun sucking and kneading her quiveringly aroused 
breasts, nor did she freeze as she'd done before when he asked her to reach 
down and touch his stiffly throbbing cock. 

They peeled off their clothes from their bodies quickly, leaving Gary in his 
shorts and Jill dressed only in her seductively sheer white panties. The 
young brunette's hands trailed down his chest and, as she looked over his 
large muscular torso reclining below her full-length on the couch, she 
experienced a sudden overwhelming sense of joy, knowing this time she 
needn't struggle from him, that now she would be the one to do things to him 
while he lay back lewdly to receive her. 

"Christ, your hands feel good," he grinned warmly up at the lust-incited 
girl seated beside him on the couch. 

"And your body feels delicious, too!" she said, circling her fingers over 
the slight paunch of his otherwise muscularly taut stomach. Her hands came 
down to the waistband of his underpants and with a deft delicate thrust of 
her thumbs beneath the tight elastic clasp she tugged them slowly down, 
pushing one hand beneath his buttocks to pull the shorts all the way to his 
knees. 

He kicked them onto the floor. 

"Now it's my turn," she said with a little grin, "to rape you!" 

"Jesus, you've changed. What prompted this?" he groaned as she trailed her 
lips across the sensitive skin of his stomach while her hands suddenly 
reached and clasped tightly around his lust-stiffened shaft of cock, then 
scraped lightly down its entire length, causing its head to rear up in a 
flicking movement. 

"I've been thinking. I have nothing to lose now that we've already... 
fucked," she said bravely and began stroking him up and down in a slow 
tormenting movement that caused his cock to begin pulsating painfully in 
eagerness. 

The voluptuous brunette rose up on her knees on the edge of the living room 
couch and hovered nakedly over him on all fours, her face a few scant inches 
from the massively throbbing head of his penis. She held it tightly between 
both hands, stroking it between the flat of her palms in a teasing up and 
down motion that caused his loins to undulate in time to the maddening 
rhythm. 

"When you make a decision, you really go all out," he gasped as she 
continued to stroke wantonly up and down on his impatiently pulsing penis. 

"I'm a little uncomfortable hanging on the edge of the couch like this," she 
murmured down at him. "Why don't we get down on the floor?" 

She pried up his buttocks and quickly he pushed off the cushions, 
half-falling and half-spilling from the couch. She came down beside him, but 
not before she had peeled her flimsy little panties down over her thighs and 
dropped them on top of the pile of his clothes on the lush-carpeted floor. 
Then she resumed her kneeling position above his loins. 

A moment later, her head dropped slowly toward his eagerly pulsing hardness. 
Suddenly Jill's tongue flicked forward, the tip boring teasingly into the 
tiny glans opening at the end. 

Gary sucked in his breath as he felt the searing contact of her wetly parted 
lips slowly embrace his entire lust-swollen cock-head. Tingling chills ran 
down the back of his spine, and he groaned, thrusting his hips slightly 
upward. She moved her warmly salivating mouth further down, and he could 
feel her lips tightening like an elastic band just below the head, trapping 
it completely inside the warm wet cavern of her mouth. 

"Christ, where in the hell did you learn that?" he moaned, raising his neck 
so that he could see her devilishly pretty face working over his hardness. 
The view of her cheeks puffed out over the upper length of his long fleshy 
staff increased the delicious sucking sensation a thousandfold. He groaned 
at the sight of her sucking so hungrily on his cock, her lips ovalling wetly 
over his trunk-like shaft and her cheeks bulging from the size of his 
blood-inflated head. 

She massaged the soft resilient flesh of his testicles with one hand and 
stroked the base of his cock between thumb and forefinger with the other as 
she began to suck and bob her head rhythmically up and down. He could feel 
her tongue twirling maddeningly at the apex of the withdrawal, then swirl 
and flutter beneath the heart-shaped curve of the head as she sucked in on 
the withdrawal. He tightened and flexed his buttocks, his head raised, 
watching the black silkiness of her hair rise and fall softly on his belly 
while she bobbed her head up and down below him. 

The building pleasure of her soft warm mouth working slavishly below and the 
constant fondling of his cum-filled balls sent a churning swirl of heat 
boiling through his lower extremities -- a heat that found its utmost 
intensity just below the hotly throbbing head of his cock. 

Jill could feel his reaction and began to suck his massive thickness a 
little harder, the tips of her teeth digging gently into the rubbery 
resisting flesh, leaving small white trails where they had scraped the blood 
from beneath the surface of the skin. She put her whole self into her 
sucking, loving every inch of his long thick hardness. And this is the first 
time I've ever done it, she thought, yet it seems so natural, as if I'd 
sucked on him before. How did it happen? What makes it so easy for me to 
draw my lips around his wonderfully warm penis and suck and suck and suck... 
Her thoughts trailed off as she moved from her position next to his 
straining thigh without disengaging her tightly compressed lips from his 
cock and subserviently kneeled on all fours between his open legs, 
instinctively sensing that he enjoyed watching her mouth as it slid up and 
down over his wetly glistening penis. Then she pressed in more closely to 
his thighs, playing with her fingers beneath the velvety sac of his 
testicles just below the soft skin of his anus, sucking rapidly up and down 
at the same time. 

"Ohhhh, yeah, baby suck, shit, suck my cock!" he grunted as the voluptuous 
brunette continued her lewd sucking below him, her body beginning to glisten 
from the tiny droplets of sexually excited sweat forming over her skin. He 
dropped his head to the pillow, groaning deeply, and tried to blot out the 
fact that in a moment Randi and Sam would be in the room, snapping pictures. 
He wanted to have a go at this achingly pretty brunette at least one more 
time without it being interrupted. But he didn't feel sorry for what would 
happen to her in a few short minutes. He was out for himself, and if the 
nefarious Wilbur Kinsby wanted the photographs for his own depraved ends, 
well, he'd damn well get them... 

"Un hunh, suck it, come on, baby, suck my cock," he hissed, half at the girl 
above him and half at the image he had in his mind of Sam and Randi, who 
were probably excited beyond control by watching from the bathroom as the 
naked girl worked her virginal young mouth over his painfully throbbing 
cock. Within his balls he felt a pressure and tightness that responded to 
the moistly clasping warmness of her expanding and contracting cheeks. His 
penis felt as if it would explode any moment like the bursting of a giant 
lead-filled balloon; it stiffened achingly with each successive stroke of 
her talented lips, and he shoved his loins hard up against her contorted 
face, hearing her protesting gurgle that went unheeded in his quest for the 
final end of this torture that was building and shrieking for its spasmodic 
release from his semen-inflated testicles. 

And then it came! 

His wildly throbbing penis began a sudden jerking motion and spewed with a 
vengeance the hot jets of cum deep into her greedily gulping throat. Jill 
groaned as she continued sucking, and her Adam's apple bobbed in rapid 
rhythm, voraciously swallowing the hot gushing sperm squirting into her 
mouth. She pursed her lips in a tight elastic ring around the jerking shaft, 
swirling her tongue around the pulsating head as he kept up his powerful 
ejaculation. 

"Fuck... damnit, keep on sucking," he coughed as he clamped his hands on her 
face, ramming his thick exploding cock convulsively farther, deeper and 
deeper until he felt its hotly erupting head touch the very back of her 
dilating throat. 

Jill didn't see the flash of the Polaroid camera as she brought Gary Johnson 
to his wildly orgasming climax. Her mind was fixed only on bringing pleasure 
to the sweat-soaked thrashing male body beneath her on the carpet as Sam and 
Randi entered the living room. 

Sam aimed the camera from behind the couch at an oblique angle, catching her 
face midway down the wildly jerking shaft. In another instant he was beside 
her, snapping away, and reinserting new flashbulbs into the expensive land 
camera. All told, he'd gotten about ten shots of her -- most of them good, 
he thought -- before the gradually deflating shaft slipped from Jill's 
mouth. As she continued licking and sucking on the moist rubbery penis, 
Randi came up beside Sam. 

"Let's do it this way, Sam," she said, planting her hand firmly on his erect 
cock beneath his pants. "I'm really turned on!" 

Borden needed no urging. He dropped his shirt to the floor and then pulled 
down his slacks, exposing the monstrous fleshy shaft of his cock which he 
began jerking lewdly back and forth in his clasping hand. 

Jill turned languidly from her chestnut-haired boss and swayed back, gasping 
as she saw Sam. "You!" she exclaimed, looking from the short stocky man to 
Randi and back to Johnson lying on the floor. 

"Just relax," Randi commanded, pulling off her sweater to reveal the nakedly 
quivering mounds of her breasts to Jill's startled gaze. "We're going to 
fuck together. Won't that be fun!" 

Jill scrambled to her feet, but without waiting a moment longer Sam Borden 
was upon her. The short stocky man thrust her voluptuous young body to the 
floor, pushing down on her shoulder so that she lay out directly in front of 
Johnson. 

"It was all made up," Jill shrieked at Johnson. "You rotten bastard! You 
planned all this! You don't even like me! You just want to use me!" 

"It's time we put some sense into you," Randi crouched down nakedly on the 
carpet just above her head. The provocatively sexy blonde stroked Jill's 
long flowing hair, making soft cooing noises. "Remember when I gave you that 
back rub? Didn't it feel good? Remember, honey?" 

"Get away from me! All of you, get out!" Jill screamed, thrashing back and 
kicking her long tapering legs up at Johnson who jumped to his feet. 

"This is my house, and I dare you to tell me to leave," Randi looked 
furiously down at her. 

Desperately, Jill struggled against Borden's hands now pressing into the 
sloping area above her breasts and her smooth sloping shoulders. Her heart 
pounded in anger and humiliation, realizing suddenly that Randi and the 
short stocky man had watched her sucking on Johnson's cock. 

"Move her onto her side, I want to do this up back," Borden said, sliding 
down beside the struggling Jill as Randi knelt next to the frightened 
brunette and tipped Jill onto her side. The brunette secretary kicked and 
writhed her body helplessly, but the obscene strength of the young woman and 
two men were too much for her. 

Through her daze, she felt Borden's fingers sink into the softly curving 
flesh of her buttocks and draw her quivering ass-cheeks apart. She tried to 
keep them tightly clenched together, but she wasn't able to as he applied 
the full force of his strength. Her legs fell open and she shivered as a 
cool rush of air coursed over the delicately sweating crevice of her exposed 
and vulnerable behind. 

The wildly trembling young secretary could hear him suck in his breath as 
the tiny puckered ring of her defenseless little anus came into view, and 
she flexed tightly at the inner sinews of her rear passage in a desperate 
effort to prevent the cruel penetration she knew was coming. Her whole body 
stiffened as Sam's hand sank directly into the crevice and his outstretched 
middle finger began probing gently at the fearfully puckering anal opening. 

She jumped as the finger mercilessly pushed forward and sank with a sharp 
rasping pain as far as the first knuckle. The short stocky man didn't stop 
there, and without giving her a moment to adjust to the strange unnatural 
presence shoved the finger steadily deeper to the second knuckle. 

His nail caught in the soft rubbery flesh lining of the tightly resisting 
walls, sending a momentary harshly biting pain through her. She groaned and 
slithered from her side onto her stomach a few inches up the carpet toward 
Randi. But the effort to escape was useless. 

"Oh, don't, please don't. You're hurting me," she moaned hoarsely. 

"Sorry about this, baby," she heard Gary Johnson's voice coming from the 
couch. Looking up from her prone position, she could see him sitting on the 
edge of the long divan, signs of a new erection stiffening his long thick 
cock that he held lewdly in one of his hands. 

Tears of shame and humiliation began to stream down her cheeks as she 
realized that she was about to be obscenely sodomized by this man she barely 
knew. Added to what she had just done to Gary -- naively thinking that 
sucking his penis was a gesture of affection and tenderness between them 
when all it meant to the older man was a means to this depraved end -- the 
young brunette felt suddenly whorish. The last shreds of her virtue were 
about to be expunged from her... there would be nothing left to retain of 
her former self except memories... memories that were now as indistinct as 
the murmuring sound of traffic coming from several floors below on the 
street. 

The knowledge that she had willingly gotten into this situation had now 
weakened Jill's resistance to the point where she found it impossible to 
keep struggling. Her body was growing delirious, and her strength was 
draining fast. There was a solution, but she had avoided it in the first 
startling moments, and that was to give in. To let the three of them do what 
they wished... and to drink in the final dregs of her degradation. Above her 
Jill could see Randi, kneeling a few inches from her face, running an 
extended middle finger up and down the exposed, pinkly glistening slit of 
her own vagina as the blonde watched Borden fondle and prod lasciviously at 
Jill's frantically quivering buttocks. The sight repulsed and fascinated the 
girl... she unconsciously let the whole of her backside go limp, a separate 
sinister part of her mind urging her to let herself be used as Borden 
desired. 

She steeled herself to avoid pain. This was the ultimate in humiliation, she 
sobbed, feeling the short stocky man's fingers digging cruelly into her rear 
passage, widening and expanding it mercilessly as he twisted and turned the 
two thick fingers in the tight narrow hole preparing it for his coming 
assault. A slight "swooshing" sound of air accompanied the withdrawal and 
increased the feeling of utter shame and degradation. She allowed Borden to 
force her legs wide with his knees, but flushed deeply as she imagined the 
leering expressions flickering over the hard cruel faces of the two men and 
the woman hovering around her while they peered at her nakedly defenseless 
little anus that Borden would violate brutally in the next few minutes. She 
jerked again when he leaned forward to drop a large drop of spittle from his 
lips to moisten and lubricate his entry. 

"Kneel up!" he suddenly commanded in a crude harsh voice, totally confident 
of his obscene power over her. 

As he had expected, she complied without hesitation, jerking her hips up to 
a kneeling position, causing her ripely swaying breasts to dance beneath her 
naked torso. Her buttocks were high in the air, completely defenseless 
against the obscene anal assault about to begin. Her tightly clenched anus 
puckered in fear and helplessness. 

Sam knelt up behind her and placed his open hands on her cringing 
ass-cheeks, drawing them firmly apart. The length of his hot throbbing cock 
slid up and down the saliva-lubricated crevice, teasing her obscenely, and 
his penis seemed to grow to even greater size from the lewd contact. He 
levered himself up on his arms and pressed slightly with his hips for a 
moment, nudging his rock-hard cock straight into the little opening between 
her tightly clenched buttocks. It was so huge! She could never take that up 
inside her rectum without ripping her belly in half! Before she could jerk 
away the short stocky man's hands dug quickly into her shoulders, pressing 
them hard and flat down against the carpet. She could feel his hairy thighs 
pressing closer, and the probing of his enormous heatedly searching cock 
into her moist puckered anus increased. It felt soft and rubbery at first, 
and then it grew into a hard unresisting bluntness like a wedge being shoved 
into her tiny opening. A deep soul-shattering moan escaped from her 
agony-whitened lips at the deep searing pain as the tightly resisting nether 
ring gave before the unyielding pressure and the round head of his cock 
popped inside with a jerk. 

"Aaaaaaaagh," Jill groaned piteously. 

It was too big... it was just too much! The enormous blunt invasion of his 
cock pressed steadily forward, and great waves of pain rippled outward from 
it through every fiber of her being. She groaned in anguish as he thrust 
cruelly onward, filling her backside with his rapidly expanding thickness. 
Time became meaningless and the captive young brunette seemed to be caught 
in an eternity of excruciating agony. Jill was afraid to move for fear of 
bringing more pain to it, and her head bent in tearful submission. Her eyes 
widened as his constantly pressing hardness increased the torture until 
suddenly she felt the coarse hair of his loins smack heavily into the 
softness of her cruelly stretched buttocks. The giant trembling shaft was 
buried to the hilt! 

Johnson, muttering obscenities under his breath, suddenly jumped up. "Turn 
her over, goddamn it!" he fairly shouted, standing away from the couch 
beside Randi, who was still kneeling lewdly on the carpet in front of Jill's 
head. 

The brunette groaned as Sam's stone-hard cock nudged against the farthest 
depths of her stretched anal hole, securing her firmly. Then his hand opened 
under her pain-tautened abdomen and pulling, he dragged her backwards. She 
came to rest, lewdly splayed out with her back against his stomach, her 
squirming young buttocks on his massively throbbing cock like a pig on a 
giant roasting spit. 

Johnson fell onto her defenselessly trapped body immediately. He positioned 
himself between her wide-stretched legs and shoved them harshly even further 
apart. In the next second, he had his huge, impatiently pulsating penis in 
his hand, and, skinning back the thick foreskin, guided it directly into the 
tight clasping channel of her moistly lubricated pussy. 

"Nooooo," she groaned. "You're hurting me!" Her protests ended in a gurgle 
as the grey-eyed man viciously rammed forward with one mighty thrust that 
buried his long hardness deep up into the quivering depths of her belly, 
joining Sam's cock sunk to the hilt in her rectum. She could feel the 
enormous shafts throbbing side by side with only a thin membrane separating 
them. And then, as if by some secret signal, they began fucking into her, 
thrusting up with long hard lunges that threatened to tear her apart. They 
fell into a mutual rhythm, buffeting her cock-stuffed body between them as 
though she were a rag doll. She grunted in pain and tried to tear herself 
from between them, but her muffled groans and whimpers seemed merely to 
incite them to smack their naked bodies against her with rapidly increasing 
force. The impaled young brunette could feel Johnson's cock pulling tiny 
ridges of her clasping vaginal flesh out with the base of his cock as he 
withdrew for another vicious lunge inside, and the same was true of Borden's 
heatedly pulsating penis thrusting in and out of her rectum. 

She screamed and then groaned again, no longer caring about anything except 
to end the pain. But the sound echoed through the room unheeded, until she 
realized that no one was going to help her, and then her piteous pleas 
diminished to a single low whine. There was no one in the world; all that 
existed was the excruciating torture of her anus from the cock behind and 
the large muscularly built man's cruel thrusts from above that shoved her 
even harder down on the invading hot poker of flesh below. 

She quieted momentarily when she felt Randi's hand begin to stroke her long 
black hair. Her whines and whimpers became joined by soft mewls of pleasure 
as the blonde finger-fucked herself in lewd obscene rhythm to the girl's 
depraved impalement. 

And then the impossible happened! Jill had sunk into a dazed half 
unconscious state, her inner sinews relaxing from sheer exhaustion, when she 
found the pain decreasing. She discovered it didn't hurt so much if she 
didn't try to fight it... when she became certain there would be no more 
pain; she actually began to enjoy it. It was a strange kind of masochistic 
joy, brought on by the helplessness of her position and the obscene thought 
of being used by two men at once while her girl friend watched. But that 
didn't seem to be anything to be guilty about after all the pain she had 
suffered. She moved her hips slightly and found that the motion didn't hurt, 
then began a slow undulation with greater force as she gained confidence, 
causing a lewd thrill to course through her entire lower body. She began to 
move backward to meet the upthrust of Borden's long hard cock plunging into 
her from behind, and then rotated upwards again to receive the whole length 
of Gary Johnson's massively heated penis ramming into her voracious vaginal 
cavern. Her buttocks moved in slow sensuous circles between the two men, and 
her voluptuously naked young body began to twist and writhe in a wild 
abandon. 

"Ooooooh," she heard Randi's voice from beside her, "fuck her. Yesssss, 
screw it to her!" 

Randi's brain reeled with lewd delight at the vision of her roommate being 
plundered by two men at once. She had never dreamed that watching another 
woman getting it like this would turn her on as much as it did; the thought 
of making Jill lick her cunt while Gary fucked into her pussy and still 
another battered brutally into her rectum stirred her loins, and the blonde 
worked her finger harder and harder up and down the moistly glistening 
cuntal slit. 

Jill felt her girl friend's hand caressing her sensitively upraised breasts 
as they brushed against Gary's chest as he fucked into her cunt from above. 
She turned her head and peered over his shoulder and saw the blonde's face 
just above her own. 

"Yesssss, Randi. Come, put your vagina next to my mouth," she crooned, 
wrestling the upper part of her body slightly out from between the two men 
and tilting her head eagerly to the side so that her mouth faced directly 
into the blonde "vee" of Randi's loins. 

She wet her lips as her roommate came closer and rolled over on one hip so 
that her warmly perfumed cuntal mound was only inches away. Randi reached 
toward her and clamped her hands harshly on the sides of Jill's head, her 
fingers twisting painfully in the brunette's hair at the same time. She 
sensed her girl friend's excitement and it made her rock her hips that much 
harder between the two men. Oh God, she thought, this was the ultimate in 
pleasure that anyone could experience. All the desires that were repressed 
were now going to be simultaneously fulfilled as she was plundered by the 
three of them at her every orifice. 

But her thoughts were cut off as the palms of Randi's tenderly working hands 
pressed into her cheeks and her head was pulled sideways until her lips 
brushed over the softness of the pubic mound that gyrated in lesbianic 
eagerness against her face. It felt soft, moist and warm from Randi's 
fingering of moments before. Yes, Jill had wanted to kiss Randi down there 
the evening she'd asked her to give her a backrub, and now it would be done, 
completing the strange circle of lust that was both shameful and 
excruciatingly pleasurable. Randi's hands pressed Jill's face warmly into 
her secret feminine parts, and the skewered little brunette could feel the 
tiny erect nerve of her roommate's clitoris brush wantonly against her lips. 

"Mmmmmmmm," she mewled and immediately flicked her tongue from her mouth, 
circling the tip against the moist hair-lined slit. It tasted deliciously 
tangy and warm, like nothing she'd ever experienced before, and Jill 
recalled the sensation of Johnson's cock which had pumped its lewd sperm 
into her mouth as an obscene male counterpart to the tantalizing aroma of 
Randi's pussy. 

The two men below her, excited by the blonde's unexpected participation in 
the group rape of the young secretary, began to increase the force of their 
mighty thrusts into her tightly clasping cunt and rectum. They lunged into 
her with deep strokes, their eyes focused on the third actor in the 
lascivious spectacle of unbridled lust, watching Jill's mouth and tongue 
suck and mewl around the blonde's wildly rotating cunt. To their lust-glazed 
eyes, Randi's pussy seemed to dance over Jill's face, her moist pink pussy 
lips fusing and then parting only to slide once more over her open working 
mouth like a separate being with a salacious mind of its own. 

"Yesssss, Jill honey, lick my cunt, suck it, stick your tongue into my 
pussy," the blonde girl cried hysterically, her hair flashing in a stream of 
silvery-whiteness over Jill's brunette tresses in a lurid contrast of black 
and white. 

Then suddenly, as they watched through lust-dimmed eyes, Randi jerked her 
cunt hard up and down, while Jill thrust her working tongue through the 
moistly clasping lips to the blonde's hot churning vagina. Her eyes rolling 
in sexual delirium, Randi began undulating her roundly plunging buttocks in 
a tight figure "8" pattern, her writhing cunt choking off the girl's 
spasmodic gasps for breath. 

"Shit, suck me, suck me, you fucking cunt!" Randi screamed mindlessly down 
at the totally impaled brunette. 

A low moan of heathen delight erupted from Jill's lips as the blonde's loins 
buffeted furiously against her face, straining her neck backward in a 
quivering bow that had the resilient spring of a rubber band. "Aaaaagh... 
ooohhhhh," Jill coughed at the obscene picture of her self-inflicted 
humiliation. 

"Grooooooobbbbbaaaaaaaool," Randi cried from above, her orgasm flashing 
crimson across her contorted face. Her pussy mound smacked in a frenzy up 
against Jill's wetly sucking lips while her throes of release shook her 
breasts and thighs as though she had been struck by a sudden avenging bolt 
of lightning. 

Jill was close to cumming now too, and she wildly sought out her climax as 
she continued her now uncontrollable gyrations on the two rapidly expanding 
cocks fucking into her. She was going out of her mind now. The thought of 
Randi screwing her pussy into her own helpless, lewdly sucking mouth while 
the men fucked her cunt and rectum was just too much. They felt too good as 
they pumped their hotly throbbing shafts in and out of her young contorting 
belly... she had to cum now! Nothing else would do! 

"Oh! Oh! Oh!" she chanted, her face contorted in an unrecognizable mask of 
wild abandoned passion. 

Borden and Johnson felt her two passages opening around them and warm gushes 
of wet hot liquid flooding around their furiously pistoning cocks. They 
thrust faster, digging deep, deep inside her, feeling the ecstatically 
aroused young brunette jerk between them several times, the muscles of her 
frantically heaving pelvis working and sucking at the two cocks embedded up 
inside her belly as though trying to milk them dry. Her breath came in short 
desperate gasps as she felt them thrust deeply again, their hot twin jets of 
sperm shooting from the tips of their wildly ejaculating cocks into her 
grateful belly. Their juices mingled deep down inside her in a wet pool of 
abandoned passion that Jill never before had known could exist. 

The muscles of her drained exhausted body gave way abruptly, and her limbs 
fell obscenely out to the sides of the sweat-soaked carpet. Jill lay still, 
her naked back flat on Borden's chest, and Johnson's spent body splayed over 
her own. 

Her heart pounded as though it would burst, and she panted deeply for breath 
several moments, sinking into a half-conscious daze of joy and satiation. 
The obscene picture they must have made, the two men and the woman covering 
her sperm-drenched naked body -- arms and legs all entangled -- ran through 
her head and only increased her lewd pleasure. 

She was vaguely aware of Randi standing up, and then felt Johnson shift his 
weight from on top of her. Her eyes focused on tiny pinpoints of light that 
fluttered in the dazed path of her vision up toward the ceiling. 

"Welcome to the club," she heard the blonde's voice from behind her. 

Johnson said something that was inaudible, and she heard Borden groan from 
beneath her. She had the feeling that her mind had been detached from her 
body and was drifting in some indeterminate space above herself, peering 
down at her naked, ravished form, and laughing cruelly at the strange new 
person she'd become. It was a feeling she knew she would experience again 
because she wanted it to happen again. She had no intention of changing. Nor 
could she conceive of giving up something which seemed more valuable than 
the last shreds of her morality... a morality that now seemed more elusive 
than the sounds of traffic floating up from the narrow confines of the New 
York streets below. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

In mid-December Jill was promoted from her secretarial position to an 
assistant editor at Femme Magazine. She knew that her cooperation with 
Johnson and the two other editors had something to do with it, but managed 
to stifle that knowledge and carry on at her job as though there hadn't been 
anything wrong with what she'd been doing at company parties during the past 
few months. Actually, she enjoyed giving herself to men she'd hardly met 
before, even though she knew going to bed with them represented a form of 
prostitution. Her favors were well-received by various businessmen -- and 
occasionally women -- who came to town to transact deals with the magazine 
over advertising copy, and she was appreciated by the management because of 
this. 

She had learned a considerable amount about the magazine publishing 
business, and had become a fair copy editor besides. If she hadn't learned 
as much about the literary side of publishing as she'd originally 
anticipated, she had gained some insight into the human motivations that 
propelled important business transactions and which controlled company 
policy. It all had to do with sex, the elemental bond that was inevitably 
fused to power on a larger scale than she'd ever imagined. 

Whatever remnants of her earlier view of sex as a gentle reverent act 
between two loving partners had been erased by her new hardened view of the 
world. Sex to Jill Marlin was power, and power meant the ability to 
manipulate people as she wished. Randi had learned that and had passed the 
information along to her apprentice in innumerable ways. The voluptuous 
blonde and the petite, devilishly pretty brunette had grown strangely 
similar since Jill had moved into the West 63rd Street apartment. They were 
still poles apart as far as superficial appearances were concerned, but 
Jill's style of dressing, the manner in which she combed her long jet-black 
hair, and the way she carried herself... with a new sexy lilt and swing to 
her buttocks... was bringing the two women inexorably closer together. 

But as their identities merged into two seductive complimentary images of 
sensuous beauty, an inevitable conflict arose between Jill and Randi. Both 
wanted promotion more than the good wishes of the other, and each girl was 
willing to go to any extreme to get it. And so, when Jill received the news 
from Johnson on a cold blustery day in early December that she was being 
promoted to a position equal to Randi's status as assistant editor, the 
blonde was noticeably disturbed. 

"I can't see why he did that after you've only been working for the company 
for three months," Randi said to Jill that evening. They were sitting in the 
living room of their apartment having after dinner drinks, and already the 
alcohol seemed to have gone to the young blonde's head. 

"It shouldn't bother you," Jill replied to her roommate seated across the 
couch from her, "after all, I'm not moving in on your territory." 

"Jealousy has nothing to do with it," Randi gulped on her drink. "I just 
wonder what on earth got into Johnson." 

"Maybe he thinks I can do the job," Jill said, feeling her passions aroused. 

"What job? You mean bedding down with visiting executives or editing copy?" 

"You know what I mean," Jill's face crimsoned. 

"Not really," Randi's eyes flashed. "All I can think of is something that 
had to do with... screwing!" 

"I wouldn't make reckless accusations, if I were you," Jill replied angrily, 
setting her drink on the coffee table. "You've been known to do the same!" 

Randi stood up and began pacing in front of the young brunette. 

"At least I'm competent as an editor," she said bitterly. "All you're good 
for is a quick lay." 

"Perhaps you should be reminded who I learned it from," Jill finished her 
drink. "That kind of thing doesn't come naturally." 

"It did for you," Randi laughed, her voice high pitched now. "I remember the 
first afternoon we all did it together... you, Gary, Sam, and me. You should 
have seen yourself moving that sweet little ass!" 

"God, you're vicious!" Jill cringed back on the couch. 

"I'm only looking out for my own interests," Randi's voice had softened. 
"There's nothing wrong with that." 

"I suppose not." Jill got up from the couch and went to the bar to make 
herself another drink. "But don't bring me into it." 

"I can't help it. I'm scared." Randi came up beside her at the small bar. 
"I'm afraid... God, I'm frightened to death I'll lose my job!" 

"What do you mean 'lose your job'?" Jill turned to her voluptuous roommate. 
"You're doing fine at the company. There's no reason in the world they'd let 
you go." 

"I saw a memorandum on Gary's desk yesterday." Randi's face was pale and her 
voice trembled. "It was from Kinsby. He asked Gary for a complete report on 
my work and a resume on what I've been doing to improve the image of the 
company." 

"That's strange!" Jill refilled her glass with gin and soda. "Why would he 
do that?" 

"You tell me." Randi shrugged. "Do you know Kinsby? Has anybody you know 
ever met Wilbur Kinsby?" 

Jill laughed. "I saw a picture of him once. That first night with Gary at 
the company party." 

"Gary has no idea what he looks like," Randi said in a mocking voice. "All 
he gets from Kinsby are phone calls and memorandums, like the one he 
received yesterday." 

It was, in fact, true that no one at Femme Magazine had been introduced to 
its publisher, nor did anyone have the slightest idea why Wilbur Kinsby 
chose to wield his influence from an Olympian distance rather than working 
directly with his employees. Even Gary Johnson, the chief editor, was in the 
dark as to the publisher's real identity, and communicated with the shadowy 
figure through messages sent to him by Kinsby's personal secretary, Donna 
Wills. 

There were several theories floating around the office explaining Kinsby's 
reasons for remaining anonymous. Some said he had never existed and was 
merely a function of Gary Johnson's bizarre imagination -- that Johnson was 
actually the publisher masquerading as chief editor. Others conjectured 
Kinsby was a composite of several men who were the directors of the company; 
while a few clung to the belief that Wilbur Kinsby had some desperate flaw 
in his past -- or perhaps a disfigured face he was afraid to show to his 
employees for fear of losing his power and influence over their actions. 

That evening a week before Christmas, as she sat with Randi in the living 
room of their New York apartment, it abruptly became clear to Jill that 
Kinsby used his employee's weaknesses -- their sexual hang-ups and their 
unruly ambitions -- to further his own ends. How else could the monthly 
orgies be explained? What other reason for instructing Johnson to have a 
memorandum sent concerning Randi's social contributions to the company? And 
then there was the business of promotions, which Jill had to admit were 
arbitrary rather than based on real merit. If she had been given a new 
editorial position at Femme Magazine, it was true, as Randy had said 
earlier, that it had been granted for her prowess in bed and not because of 
her ability to edit advertising copy. 

Jill said good night to Randi and went into her bedroom, undressed, and lay 
down to sleep. But sleep didn't come, the conversation of moments before 
played back through her mind with all its open fear, accompanied by Randi's 
frenzy. She felt guilty for moving in on her blonde roommate's territory, 
and confused; and she tried to blot out these thoughts by thinking about 
something pleasant, thinking about sex. She recalled the last time she'd 
made love to a man as though trying to enter through the threshold of sleep 
into the warm embrace of a dream... 

Randi and Gary had brought an important executive from a client company up 
to the apartment. After a leisurely dinner, they'd had drinks, turned down 
the lights, and she and the man, an older gentleman with a receding hairline 
and a large bushy mustache, had settled down on the couch. There had been a 
few basic preliminaries... Jill couldn't make love without them... and after 
awhile she had been playing with the man's lust-swollen cock. His name was 
Jimmy Kulik, she recalled now as her hand slipped between her thighs and 
began rubbing gently at her pussy mound. 

She'd unzipped the man's fly and pulled the giant red-fleshed penis from his 
pants and had stroked it openly, lovingly before thrusting his warmly 
throbbing cock into her mouth and starting to suck it. Within moments, the 
four of them -- Gary and Randi, Jill and the executive -- had undressed and 
were sprawled out on the living room floor. Gary had followed Jill's lead 
and had moved his head down between Randi's spread thighs, running his wetly 
quivering tongue up and down between the blonde girl's legs. While Jill had 
sucked on Jimmy's blood-engorged penis, she had watched Gary circle his 
tongue over her roommate's ecstatically writhing pubic mound. The young 
brunette had begun sucking harder when she saw her boss dart his tongue to 
the tiny bud of Randi's erect little clitoris and then plunge the extended 
forefinger of one hand into the open receptacle of her moistly glistening 
cunt. 

Eventually the four of them had moved into Randi's bedroom where they had 
continued their communal love-making. Exclamations of salacious delight had 
echoed through the room, transforming the almost peaceful air of the chamber 
into a sex-charged atmosphere of abandoned squeals and groans, the four 
nakedly twisting bodies writhing closer and closer to one another, until the 
two couples had literally fused into one orgiastic union that jolted them 
all by its intensity. 

Now, as Jill drifted into an erotic sleep, the recollection of sucking on 
the stranger's eagerly throbbing cock while both Randi and Gary did lewd 
things to her moistly pulsating cunt merged into new dream-images. She was 
in a completely white circular room with pillows of bright colors placed 
along the smooth curving walls. From a small opening at the top of a 
glass-domed ceiling a shaft of light, more like a pencil line of 
illumination, shown against her wet glistening pussy mound, bringing warm 
excitations of pleasure throbbing through her impatiently upraised loins. In 
her dream, the young brunette felt as though she were caged. It seemed as if 
the walls of the strange oval structure were pushing against her from all 
sides, pulsating rhythmically with each passionate intake of her breath. 

Suddenly, Jill awoke screaming, her head thrashing violently against the 
bedstead behind her. In the last instant of her dream, she thought she 
recalled someone looking down at her through the hole in the concave 
ceiling. A shadow flickered across her bedroom wall, rising from the floor 
until it was caught and dissolved in the soft gauziness of the window 
curtains. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

During the week before Christmas several dramatic things happened at Femme 
Magazine. When Randi and Jill reported for work on Monday, the young blonde 
was called into Johnson's office for a conference, and three hours later she 
was standing at the threshold to Jill's cubicle with tears brimming in her 
eyes. 

"Fired. They canned me all right." Her fingers jabbed the air and there was 
a strange white incandescence in her face. "Just before Christmas so I could 
spend the holidays looking for another job." 

"I-I don't understand." Jill felt the full impact of her girl friend's 
tragedy fall upon her. "It just happened so suddenly. You had no idea!" 

Randi Jordan daubed small streaks of mascara running with her tears from her 
cheeks. "God's avenging lightning!" she shrugged weakly. "I'm being punished 
for the naughty things I've done over the past three years." 

"That's ridiculous," Jill couldn't help laughing. "You haven't done a thing 
Gary hasn't requested from you in the first place." 

"Johnson says Kinsby thinks I'm obsolete," the girl shook her head slowly 
back and forth. "They're trying out a new image, and they want all their new 
women employees to conform to it. I just don't fit in. It's as simple as 
that." 

That night Jill helped Randi pack and the next day she accompanied the girl 
to a hotel where she would stay until she found a new apartment. Femme 
Magazine had asked the brunette to move out of the company flat by the end 
of the month, but she preferred to leave immediately. There were too many 
unpleasant memories that went with the place which Randi wanted to erase 
and, if possible, begin life in New York fresh, as if she'd never seen Gary 
Johnson or Sam Borden. 

That Tuesday afternoon, when Jill re-entered the magazine office after 
returning from the mid-town hotel where Randi was staying, she found a 
surprise awaiting her. Gary Johnson met the girl in her cubicle and laughed 
as she sat down at her desk. 

"You're moving into Randi's office," he said in a funny, distant voice. 

"What!" she slid back in her swivel chair, knocking an ashtray from her desk 
to the floor. 

"Don't get excited. I didn't want Randi to know you were taking her job. 
Figured there was some tension there already." 

"How did this happen? Why do I deserve this?" she said, unable to conceal 
the joy she felt even though it was at the expense of her former roommate. 

"Another girl's coming into town to take your place. She'll be moving into 
the apartment just before Christmas. I'm sure as hell glad Randi got out 
when she did." 

"Oh," she almost whispered. "That means the new girl will be moving into my 
old job." 

"Exactly." Johnson stood in front of her desk. "I've got some more 
interesting news for you. Kinsby called late yesterday evening. He wants you 
to meet his chauffeur here tonight who will drive you out to Long Island for 
dinner at his place on Sands Point." 

"Why me? That seems strange... " She wrinkled her pretty nose. 

"It sure does," he said, looking past her out the window, "especially since 
none of us has ever met the gentleman." 

"Yes," she gulped. "Very strange." 

"You must have made quite a good impression on him." 

"How?" 

"He's seen you. He's got those goddamn closed circuit TV systems rigged all 
over the place." 

"I'm sure you'll be interested in what he's like. I can't imagine what I'll 
say to him," she said. 

"I don't think you'll have a chance to do too much talking." Johnson turned 
from the desk and went to the door. "Still, I'd like to know what happens." 

It began snowing around four o'clock that afternoon, and by the time Jill 
came down from the office and stood waiting in the vestibule of the 
Lexington Avenue building, the tops of parked cars and the trees surrounding 
the mall were dusted with a light covering of whiteness. The flakes swirled 
and spiraled over the walk, forming a ghostly arc between the towering 
skyscrapers and making the passerby of the pavement appear as apparitions 
scurrying from the protection of one building to another. 

At a few minutes after five o'clock a Cadillac limousine pulled up in front 
of the arcade that led onto the street and Jill hurried from the building 
and slid into the back seat of the car. 

"Miss Marlin, I presume," the driver said in a brisk English accent. 

The Cadillac pulled from the curb and began making its way through dense 
late-afternoon traffic. Snow fell more thickly now, and by the time they 
reached the Queens Mid-town tunnel several inches of the white stuff covered 
the road. They entered the Long Island Expressway and awhile later Jill 
could see the snow was several inches deeper on the suburban lawns bordering 
the white-ribboning highway. They turned off at the Shelter Rock Road exit, 
and twenty minutes later the limousine turned onto a gravel road that led 
into a secluded estate. Here, the snow lay heavily on the overhanging 
branches of tall oaks that rimmed the driveway in a long colonnade, and 
topped the eaves of the imposing Tudor-style mansion at the end of the drive 
like white icing on gingerbread. 

The chauffeur escorted Jill into a high-ceilinged room at the front of the 
house and offered the pretty brunette a seat until Mr. Kinsby chose to see 
her. Within moments, a young woman dressed in a maid's uniform appeared and 
asked the girl what she would have to drink. 

"Mr. Kinsby is anxious that you feel right at home," the woman said, 
bringing Jill a Scotch and soda which she set in a small tray on an end 
table beside the couch. 

"I'll do just fine," Jill replied, trying not to sound nervous. 

"If there's anything you need," the woman said as she disappeared down a 
corridor leading from the spacious room, "don't hesitate to call me." 

The room was elegantly furnished and had high-beamed walls that reminded the 
Marlin girl of a hunting lodge. There was an elk's head mounted above the 
expansive fireplace, and a kind of small balcony encircled one side of the 
room. Everything was arranged with impeccable taste -- from the eighteenth 
century style paintings depicting hunting scenes down to the thick beige 
carpeting and matching crimson divan and armchair. Yet, Jill's general 
impression was one of disappointment; she had been expecting something 
flamboyant and outrageously modern to match the eccentric image in her mind 
of the reclusive publisher. 

"How wonderful you could come this evening," she heard a hoarse male voice 
suddenly from behind her. 

Jill turned on the couch and saw a smallish man standing by the foyer that 
led into the room. He was somewhat stooped over, and he limped faintly as he 
walked to the center of the carpet. There was nothing particularly notable 
about the man. Somewhere in his late fifties or early sixties, he looked 
like an average middle-aged businessman, dressed in a gray suit with 
matching gray tie. Jill tried to superimpose the face she saw with the 
remembered image of the man in the portrait she'd seen the first night with 
Gary at the company party, but she couldn't. There was something so 
completely unremarkable about him - mediocre, she thought -- that 
comparison, whatever it might have been worth, was impossible. 

"I've heard some splendid things about you from Gary Johnson," Wilbur Kinsby 
said, "and I decided it was an absolute must to see you." 

"Thank you," Jill smiled, laughing inside at how meek Wilbur Kinsby seemed. 
How perfectly ordinary! She thought. "I've been anxious to meet you as 
well." 

"I must seem like a mystery man to most of you at the magazine, but my 
business interests are so extensive I have relatively little time. But I do 
have a few moments free for lovely young girls like yourself." 

The young woman servant entered with a new tray of drinks, then moved 
silently across the carpeted floor, only to turn for a moment in front of 
the darkened rectangle of the rear corridor. Her momentary expression was 
waspish, and seemed to take in the entire sweep of the young brunette's 
curvaceous body with a rapid scan of her eyes. 

"That will be all, Janice," Kinsby said, his face darkening. His eyes 
brightened as he turned to Jill. "Well, my dear, I suppose you wonder why 
I've asked you out here. I can imagine your young mind conjecturing away at 
what I've planned for the evening." Jill laughed. She was used to 
entertaining or being entertained by visiting businessmen in New York, so 
the publisher didn't alarm her. She even felt a vague disappointment at his 
subdued, almost restrained manners. She'd traveled a long way during the 
past four months from the shy small town girl she'd been, and had come to 
expect the unexpected, had anticipated something more fantastic than the 
meek little man standing before her this evening. 

After they finished their drinks, the publisher showed her around the 
mansion. Each room was furnished and decorated in a style similar to the 
living room -- somberly, without flourish, as though Kinsby had deliberately 
kept things subdued. The older man still hadn't answered the question he'd 
posed to her concerning the reason he'd invited her out to Long Island, and 
she supposed there was no answer save for the fact that men of his isolated 
nature occasionally felt lonely, sometimes needed companionship. 

"This room is my pride and joy," Kinsby's eyes twinkled as he issued the 
pretty brunette into a small dimly lit chamber. It took Jill a moment to 
adjust her eyes to the lighting, then she saw a strange machine-like 
contraption that was lowered from an upright stand over the bed. 

"What on earth is that?" Jill pointed to the device. 

"That, my dear," a ripple of lewd anticipation heightened the pitch of 
Kinsby's voice, "is why I asked you here this evening." 

"I can't see it properly. It's too dark in here," she said, fascinated by 
the machine. 

"It's the first time anyone has seen it. I had it hand made, especially for 
this occasion," he said mysteriously. 

She sat down on the bed to get a closer look at the contraption, then jerked 
back when she saw the long thick rubber dildo fastened at the end of an 
aluminum arm. 

"I think you get the idea," Kinsby's pupils grew sharp and pointed as he 
surveyed her lush young body sitting on the bed. 

"I've heard about these things, but... " her voice trailed off as she saw 
the evil smile flickering across the publisher's face. 

"But you never thought you would have the opportunity to experience one 
first hand!" 

"Mr. Kinsby," she stood up from the bed, trembling suddenly at the thought 
of being laid out beneath the impaling device, "I think I ought to leave." 

"You're welcome to go any time you wish," Kinsby smiled, his normally 
composed face suddenly contorted with obscene delight at the girl's 
predicament, "but remember your job. Remember it's snowing outside... " His 
eyes narrowed as they feasted on the full voluptuous curves of her breasts 
and the smooth rounded firmness of her buttocks and thighs beneath her tight 
microskirt. 

Jill thought, I'd be a fool to leave now. It would mean everything I've 
worked for... But I don't know what he intends to do with me, nor if I could 
resist him in a struggle... he's small, but that really isn't the point. 

"I always wanted to try out this lovely piece of handiwork on Randi, but I 
grew bored with her," his hand fell lightly on the smoothness of her 
shoulder. 

"Randi... I thought she'd never met you! Jill exclaimed. 

"Oh yes, she's been here. Several times. But I had to let the girl go. She 
just didn't entertain me any longer." 

"And I suppose that's the way you judge most of your employees," she said. 

"More or less." 

Jill turned instinctively toward the door, but something inside her made her 
stop. She felt Wilbur's hand again on her shoulder and she turned around, 
the decision derived from her helplessness now final. 

"All right, I'll let you do it. I'm not willing to lose my job, not yet," 
she said flatly. 

"Then down on the bed," Kinsby grinned lewdly, "we'll begin at once." 

She dropped onto the wide mattress beside her and looked at him. 

"Not like that, my dear," he leered across the taut flatness of her stomach 
to the twin jutting peaks of her breasts, "take off your clothes." Kinsby 
watched as the beautiful young girl pulled off her tight cashmere sweater to 
expose her brassiere-less perfectly rounded breasts. Her warm glowing flesh 
seemed to catch the iridescent glow of the overhead light and reflect it 
back in softer tones. Her nipples were already erect -- whether from fear or 
from exposure to the air, he couldn't tell. Then she slid her tight-fitting 
microskirt down over the ivory smoothness of her buttocks and wriggled 
provocatively from her small white panties, setting all her clothes in a 
neat pile at the foot of the bed. 

Kinsby stood back and took in the entire voluptuously curving length of the 
young brunette's body, studying the luscious contours of it as though he 
were a portrait artist surveying his naked model in mute appreciation. He 
noted the slight bulge of her mound of Venus nestled up softly between her 
legs, the subdued shading of her upraised thighs enunciating the curvature 
of her warm-fleshed legs. He could see the firmly rounded swell of her 
buttocks, and they appeared to him like ripely spherical fruits -- small 
melons, he thought with delight. Perfect, everything was absolutely perfect, 
and he could already feel his mind blazing, his heart pounding like a 
kettledrum in his chest as he adjusted the overhead machine so that the arm 
of the dildo was focused over her young pussy mound. 

"Now, relax," he smiled, "at first it will be slightly painful, but then 
there will be the pleasure -- that should blot out everything." 

Jill peered at the rubber phallus lowering toward her nakedly trembling 
body, noticing that it was sculpted as realistically as any penis she'd ever 
seen -- it was equipped with a huge set of balls that even had realistic 
hair growing on them. She groaned as she took in the entire size of it. 
Suddenly she wished she'd had more to drink; although the two drinks she'd 
had were powerful and had contained a substance that had put her into a 
strangely mellow mood, it just wasn't enough. The huge artificial cock was 
too big; it would rip her completely apart! 

"How do you like it, my dear," he gloated as he manually directed the 
monstrous rubber head to a short distance from her silken-haired cuntal 
mound. 

"Oh, God, please," she whimpered. "I can't take it. I can't take it." 

"Nonsense, my dear. You haven't even tried it!" 

"Oh, no, nooooo," Jill begged as Wilbur walked around the machine. In the 
mirror to the side of the bed she could see him adjusting the horrible 
instrument so that the phallus was directed at a forty-five degree angle 
toward her vaginal opening when he lowered it to a level even with her 
nakedly helpless loins. 

"You'll like it, Jill, I promise you, there will be nothing unpleasant about 
it." 

He took a pitcher from the bedside table, and Jill could see him pouring 
something into the rubber sac dangling from the huge menace of the penis. 
"Warm olive oil, Jill. Just like the hot cum which I can squirt into you any 
time with the control button in my hand. This controls the speed and depth 
of the machine." He held up a small box that looked like a television remote 
control box. It was connected by several long wires to the base of the 
machine. 

"We can make it do anything we want with this," he smiled. "All you have to 
do is ask me when the times comes." 

He dropped his hands to her thighs, rubbing his palms lewdly over the full 
rounded contours of them up to the fleshy hair-lined lips of her fearfully 
quivering young pussy. Her cunt still was not moist, and Jill clenched her 
teeth tightly together in fear that he was going to hurt her. Instead, he 
reached to the small table beside them and dug his fingers into a jar of 
vaseline. He gently swabbed the lubricating jelly the length of her narrow, 
pinkly glistening split, inserting an extended middle finger up into the 
warm clasping fleshiness of her pussy. He rotated the finger around and 
around, swabbing the vaseline deep into her sucking vaginal walls, preparing 
it for the obscene entry of the poised rubber cock on the piston-like shaft 
above. 

"I thought they fucked you more than they apparently have," he smiled down. 
"By the time I had Randi she was much wider than you. But that's good." 

Jill struggled to get up, her fear of her impalement and her humiliation at 
being handled by him this way, driving her in a spasmodic leap from the bed, 
but the flat of Kinsby's hand pushed her down again. She fell back on the 
mattress. 

"That's more like it," the small middle-aged man chuckled, pulling the huge 
waiting phallus forward and down and pressing the giant rubbery head between 
the quivering fleshy lips of her hopelessly exposed vagina until it was 
poised for entry. Jill tried again to struggle forward, but this time the 
publisher slapped his hand viciously across her face. "Down!" he shouted. 

She felt the hard rubber tip of the artificial cock nudging against her 
sensitive vaseline-lubricated cuntal lips, but now she couldn't move! Her 
fear was paralyzing her! Then, momentarily, the machine whirled and the 
penis was a few inches above her cuntal mound; it hung there menacingly. 

Chuckling, Kinsby sank into the soft chair beside the bed. It was located 
just below Jill and the machine so that he could have a perfect view of the 
skewering on her young, helplessly waiting cunt. He held the control box 
tightly in his sweating palms, anxious to begin the depraved ravishment of 
the new young woman working for his magazine. What a delightful new 
playmate! He had watched her for four months now as she progressed from a 
virginal Mid-western farm girl into an accomplished sensuous woman; and 
right about now, he believed, she was ready for the final stage of her loss 
of innocence. Such small trifles gave Wilbur Kinsby pleasure. 

Jill lay in hopeless defection on the bed, feeling waves of shame and 
humiliation wash over her like some evil tide of foreboding. She gritted her 
teeth, steeling herself to the ordeal ahead, at the same time cursing 
herself for her own evil ambition which had led her into the morass of 
sensuality that had as its final crushing blow her subservience to a 
machine. Looking down she could see Wilbur, small and red-faced, smiling 
anxiously from the chair. In the mirror above the bed she could see her own 
lewdly splayed-out body, her flesh appearing more naked than she'd ever 
witnessed it to be before, waiting, as though in sacrifice, to be fucked by 
the inhuman monster poised mechanically over her. 

"Now we begin," he said in a thin, squeaky voice, and switched on a button 
from the remote control box. 

She heard a gentle whirr, and saw the thick long rubbery cock begin lowering 
toward her exposed and upraised vagina. Suddenly, the bed seemed to rise as 
the machine-cock descended. She closed her eyes to ward off the sensation of 
first harsh contact, and a second later felt the head of the rubbery penis 
begin a gentle up and down movement along the warm outer edges of her 
quivering cunt, staying teasingly inside the moistly tight split of her 
pussy seconds before pulling out once again. 

God, oh Goooooood Goooooood, It's human, the penis is alive! 

She was caught unaware by the gentle probing of the machine. She had geared 
her mind to expect something painful and harsh, but this -- God, it was 
different, it was unexpected and subtle and she felt violent shudders 
coursing heatedly along her nerves, their shattering intensity increased a 
hundred times by the rigidity of the position she had fallen into. Her legs 
were splayed out on either side of her in order to ease its entrance and her 
resiliency smooth buttocks uplifted slightly from the bed. Her toes curled 
beneath the tantalizing soft attack and she groaned, crying like a tortured 
saint as she prayed her body would not be hurt -- she feared the pain more 
than the shameful humiliation. 

"You will like this," he said, "I know you inside and out. I have watched 
you for months, though you didn't know it." 

Small beads of perspiration were breaking on his forehead as his goal was in 
sight. Kinsby knew he would break her will eventually, and his eyes were 
alert for every slight, febrile twitch of her body for the first step of her 
weakness. 

Jill sobbed as he increased the speed of the teasing machine. She could feel 
the tips of her ripely full breasts tingling with unwanted pleasure as the 
artificial penis bored with obscene technical accuracy into her rapidly 
moistening vaginal opening, the rush of erotic thrills surging into her 
belly like puffs of steam through a heat conduit. The long urgently pressing 
cock probing at the portal of her young "Nooooo," Jill's resistance ebbed 
with the exquisite maddening pleasure being lavished on her helplessly naked 
form. But she couldn't bring herself to suffer this final indignation, of 
begging him to defile her further, even though she wanted it, even though 
her body demanded the teasing rod to be driven even deeper into her cunt to 
quench the aching hunger that throbbed like licking flames through her 
abdomen. 

"Remember your job, my dear," his voice rose in harmony with the whirring of 
the machine, "remember Randi... " She wanted the beautifully vibrating penis 
to begin moving back and forth, fucking into her, yet she knew now, with a 
shudder of hot recognition, that to ask him to fuck her would signal her 
final whoredom and Kinsby's subjugation of another of his employees to his 
will. 

"Say it, ask me to fuck you," he whispered, his face reddening and his hands 
trembling in expectation in his lap as he stared at the lust-crazed, 
wantonly writhing female who had been an innocent young virgin only four 
months before. 

Jill knew with these last words that the rubbery instrument away. The cords 
on her neck strained out and she flung her long flowing raven-black hair 
from side to side as she felt the rampaging phallus sinking even deeper into 
her hideously stretched vagina, and she fell back hopelessly on her tensed 
shoulder blades. "Stop! Goddddddd, please STOP!" her eyes gaped like 
flashing quarters at Kinsby in the chair. 

But the small grinning man was master and torturer and played on her nakedly 
thrashing body as a harpsichordist would lovingly caress the keyboard of his 
instrument, producing dissonant sounds of pain and harmonic strains of 
pleasure at will; the sonata of passion progressed in a wild surge of sounds 
issuing from the girl's throat and wetly sluicing pussy. She tried to push 
up at the thickly plunging penis, unconsciously wanting more, her hands 
coursing over the rose-tipped nipples of her own hungrily quivering breasts, 
tweaking them now that the love-juices of her cunt had begun to flow moistly 
down her frantically trembling thighs. 

"Tell me, love, tell me what you want," the taunting red face peered down at 
her, moving his chair closer so that he could reach out and caress her 
smoothly squirming young buttocks. 

with as he wished, his for the taking -- but the tyrant publisher in the 
chair wanted more -- he had waited too long to get this little bitch he had 
transformed from the angelic prude she had been into a seductive, erotically 
sensuous woman through the device of the planned seductions made by Gary and 
Randi -- and now, he wanted to watch her final capitulation. 

Through a second sense, Jill fathomed Wilbur Kinsby's thoughts, understood 
in an instant of revelation that it had been the publisher's fateful hand 
that had guided her through the eventful autumn in New York City. The 
pleasurable sensations now erupting with erotic fury through her throbbing 
cock-filled loins communicated this, as though her body had a consciousness 
of its own. My God, Jill thought, what's happening to me? WHAT HAS HAPPENED 
TO ME? I can't help it, I can't help it! 

He flicked the button again, sending more forceful pulsations through the 
artificial penis embedded so thickly in her clasping cuntal depths. 

"Oooooooh," she groaned helplessly. 

Jill tried to arch upward and wedge the away. Kinsby pressed another button 
and a warm jet of hot olive oil spurted from the tip of the spongy head, 
lubricating her heatedly impaled passage. The pain eased momentarily, but 
the lewd penetration increased, and she felt as if someone were levering her 
thighs apart to split her tormented body all the way up to her head. The 
huge unbending cock throbbed on, not going any deeper, but patiently 
expanding the moist warm cuntal flesh clinging tightly against it. The 
obscene semblance of a penis thrust teasingly forward a centimeter, seeming 
to stay at the epicenter of her pussy channel for an eternity, sending 
nerve-tingling flutters of wildly exciting sensation up into her taut 
quivering belly. The pain was gradually passing as the obscene pleasure 
inexorably increased; a fire was burning in her that she couldn't control, 
and in the end it was the very thought of her helplessness that weakened 
her. 

Jill didn't want to feel good, she had no desire for the pain to be 
transformed into pleasure... she merely wanted the cessation of the 
irritation; but the excited tremor of a moan escaped her tortured lips, 
betraying her submission to her tormentor. She was his to do vagina suddenly 
flicked forward on a signal from the box in Kinsby's hand, and the naked 
brunette gasped from the unexpected intrusion spearing hotly into her 
fearfully cringing cunt. She screamed for the publisher to stop, but he 
didn't. Now she could feel her firm full thighs involuntarily parting, her 
tightly resisting pussy somehow resisting less... and less... until the huge 
cock-head bored into the vaseline-lubricated outer lips of her cunt. Her 
moist vaginal mouth felt on fire and she ached from head to toe from the 
cruel position she'd been forced into, but she could only moan for Kinsby's 
mercy. 

But it didn't come. 

"God, wait, no -- you're hurting... meee!" The thick rubbery phallus halted 
momentarily. She heard Wilbur's breath expel in a rapid, sinister wheeze... 
and then... "See," he said, cooing at the outstretched form of the naked 
brunette, "I told you it wouldn't hurt!" 

"But it does, " she groaned, "it's too -- bigggggg!" 

"Let it fuck you. Oh, shit, let it fuck you!" The warmly parting walls of 
her vagina felt as though they were being pulled and stretched publisher had 
designed the machine, had constructed the evil pleasure-giving device to 
overcome his impotency, and in this perverted act of love he became the 
machine! He made it do the things he couldn't; he was sick, as was everyone 
she had met and everything she had done during the past weeks to gain 
prestige at the company -- from sucking on anonymous cocks to lowering 
herself over older women's loins to give them the wild forbidden delights of 
lesbianic pleasure... and now she was paying for it, with the revelation 
that she, like Randi, also was expendable, while the machine would go on and 
on and on... 

"Say it!" Kinsby squealed from beside her. "Oooooohhhhhh, it feels 
gooooood!" 

"Do you want me to stop?" 

"No, goooo onnnnnn!" she mewled, her lips baring back over the gleaming 
whiteness of her teeth. 

"Tell me what you want!" 

"Give it to me, ram that cock into me!" she demanded. 

"No, not like that," he hissed, "you know what I mean." 

"Shit, Christ, fuck me, fuck, fuck, FUCK MY GODDAMN CUNT," the words 
exploded like hot bullets from her mouth. 

Wilbur Kinsby pressed the button with the glee of conquest, sending the 
huge, hotly plunging artificial penis racing up into her liquid clasping 
depths, dragging the soft clinging ridges of her cunt before it like a 
rampaging bulldozer until it was buried more than half a foot deep in her 
wildly pulsating cunt. He stopped it for a moment at the apex where the 
giant, realistic rubbery head throbbed harmoniously against her sensitive 
cervix. 

Jill's mouth opened and closed in unexpected torment, until she gradually 
became accustomed to the fleshy trunk-like shaft embedded deep in her wetly 
clasping pussy. She could feel the huge plastic balls brushing heavily 
against her anus beneath her wide-stretched thighs, and a strange 
masochistic joy rippled ominously through her. Oh God! It was just like 
being fucked by a man, only with this inhuman machine she didn't have to 
worry about hurt feelings or luncheon dates or anything except her own 
pleasure. It was heavenly! Even the pain was erotically pleasurable, and she 
waved her frantically pumping buttocks down against the mattress, bringing 
her full rounded moons up again to suck in the entire length of the plastic 
cock into her shamelessly aroused pussy. 

"Is it good, do you like it?" Kinsby panted, now digging his nails into her 
spasmodically quivering buttocks which were raised in anxious supplication 
from the mattress. 

He throbbed the monstrously thick cock-shaft again. 

"Ooooooo, yessssss, do that, do it again, it's good, soooooo goooooood!" 

"Better than Gary? Better than Sam?" he coughed, slowing the rhythmically 
throbbing cock to hear her final admission of depraved subjugation. 

Jill suddenly moaned at the reminder of the men who had initiated her into 
this sinister debauched situation. She just couldn't bring herself to say it 
now... there were still some vestiges of pride left in her whored young 
body. 

"Do you want me to stop?" he taunted lewdly. 

"No, oh, go on!" 

"Then you say it. Tell me I'm better than all of the fucks you've had, all 
of them!" 

"Ohhhhh, yesssss," she coughed, "you're much better... better than Sam, 
better than Gary or Randi!" 

Kinsby grinned an obscene grin of victory. He had her now. She wanted it 
with every sinew of her tortured being, and by God he was going to give it 
to her. He flicked several switches on the box and the bed started an up and 
down motion, throwing her roundly gyrating buttocks up off the mattress and 
then down again with a lewd obscene thump. The arm connected to the motor 
began a back and forth motion in time to the bed, the long thick cock 
fucking mechanically in and out of her stretched, hotly impaled cunt in 
thrusts that traveled its full length. A moist sluicing sound of intercourse 
resounded through the small room and the lewd slap of the artificial balls 
against her white upturned buttocks joined it melodiously. Wilbur licked his 
lips hungrily as he watched the reddish skin of her tight little vagina draw 
back each time on the outstroke of the large artificial penis, clasping and 
sucking salaciously at the shaft as if it didn't want to come out and then 
disappearing inside again with each powerful forward thrust. 

Jill groaned out her submission to the lewd sensations racing like 
quicksilver through her mechanically-ravished body. Her toes curled tightly 
against the soles of her feet as she was bucked up and down, sucked and 
fucked relentlessly like a helpless slave by the great, rhythmically 
stroking machine. Kinsby held the control box in his hands as he knelt over 
her, coursing the palms of his hands over the sensitive flesh of her 
wantonly writhing young body. 

Jill suddenly felt the rising tide of orgasm beginning deep in her tautly 
quivering little belly. The very hopelessness of her position and the 
debasing ravishment of her body sent rippling fingers of fire dancing 
through the tattered nerve ends of her skin. 

Suddenly she gave a low piteous moan and brought her hands down to press the 
thick, wildly vibrating rubber dildo hard into her belly, screwing her 
gyrating ass-cheeks up tight against the round hard rubber ring that kept it 
from going deeper. She opened her mouth wide and let out a scream of animal 
anguish that signified her approaching orgasm. 

Kinsby could see the clenching and unclenching white cheeks of her ass begin 
a strong hard spasming against the invading cock-shaft as though it were 
vainly trying to nibble at the alien insertion. Small gushes of her 
lust-juices seeped out hotly around the plunging edges of the vibrating 
penis and ran in glistening pearl-like streams down the smooth 
wide-stretched crevice of her buttocks. The tiny puckered anus clenched and 
opened below in the rivuleting moistness of her passion in tempo with the 
final grunts of her soul-rending climax. 

And then the machine came! In wild spurts of hot olive oil, she felt it 
spewing out its load inside her, and she discovered herself screaming, 
"Yes... yes, oh my darling, cum! Cum in me!" 

Gradually the oscillations of the machine subsided. Jill could see Kinsby 
standing up and moving around the room, his formerly impassioned face now 
strangely calm, almost languid... as though he were thoroughly satiated. 

Jill saw her own reflection in the mirror and turned away, dropping her face 
into a pillow. The despair she experienced was complete as the little man 
curtly told her to put on her clothes. As she dressed quietly her mind tried 
to fathom the enormity of the strange act she had just committed, but she 
found it was impossible. 

Kinsby suddenly left the room and she was alone. She finished dressing and 
returned to the living room where the chauffeur was waiting to drive her 
back to New York. 

"Ready, Miss?" the tall uniformed man looked at her. "Is there anything 
wrong, Miss?" 

"No, nothing," she said. 

They walked out through a side entrance to the house into the snow that was 
shimmering brightly beneath a full moon in the cloudless December sky. For a 
moment, as the long black Cadillac limousine pulled out of the driveway onto 
the main road, her mind was clear, and it seemed as though she saw the 
events leading up to tonight in sharp detail, in perspective. Tomorrow or 
the next day, the new girl would be in the office. It wouldn't be long until 
she, too, would be initiated into a way of life that was already becoming 
intolerable to Jill Marlin. 

And there would be others who would follow her, just as Jill had followed 
Randi... while the machine would remain, master of them all. 


THE END
