BSS-744  Every Afternoon
(W.C. Chaplin)


FOREWORD 

To those of you have read Roger Grayson's A "Neighborhood Party, a masterful 
works on the psychology and social dangers of wife swapping, we need give no 
introduction as to our opinion toward him as an author. But to those who 
have not we would like to say that we feel Mr. Grayson has captured the 
tempo of our times relative to intra-marital relations with far more insight 
than any other author of this era. In his previous work, he explored the 
intrinsic reasons, or at least several of the multitude, of why seemingly 
normal happy couples engage in extra-marital sex with the full knowledge and 
consent of the other party. 

Now in his latest novel he delves into the neighborhood prostitution ring. 
The particular incident he chooses here is not necessarily reflective of all 
the circumstances under which this phenomena takes place but is merely one 
flagrant example. In most cases, the husband is unaware of the use to which 
his home is being put during his working hours but here the young housewife 
Sara becomes enmeshed in the bizarre dealings of her neighbor with her 
husband's full knowledge. Though he does not directly participate in her 
initial debauchment of his young wife he does know about it and in effect 
trades her body for advancement in his company. This adds a new dimension to 
the moral Author Grayson attempts to put across: The part that greed plays 
in this world. 

We are going to leave the deeper analysis to the reader this time, which is 
contrary to our usual editorial policy but we feel that Mr. Grayson has done 
such an admirable piece of work that anything we could say about it would 
only lead to redundancy. He speaks with a clear and simple tongue and 
transmits a message that all of us might learn from. 

-THE PUBLISHERS 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Sara Donovan had been in the kitchen fixing canapes and helping Jill with 
more gin and tonics. It had been another hot day and though they usually 
drank very little when they got together, the weather had everyone thirsting 
for something cool. Sara had already had three and was glad Bill wouldn't be 
home that evening, it wouldn't do for her husband to come in and find her so 
tipsy from a bridge game. 

She had welcomed a chance to get away from the living room and keep herself 
busy in the kitchen. Not only was she losing again;... she'd lost so much 
money lately, the conversations at the three tables had returned again to 
what seemed to be the only topic of interest. Sex! 

Maria and Jane had started it again, as usual And because they were at 
different tables, their descriptions of the new positions they'd found 
couldn't help but be overheard by the rest of the players. Sara couldn't 
understand it; each Tuesday those two seemed to be trying to outdo each 
other with stories of some new gymnastic maneuver they'd invented! 

At first, Sara had tried to picture Bill and herself in one of those 
contorted embraces but finally gave up because she was sure it was 
impossible. Now she just tried not to listen, but Maria's strident voice 
proved that too was impossible. 

A few moments ago she could feel her cheeks redden as, not only Maria and 
Jane, but the rest of the girls had started to compare the sizes of their 
husbands' sex organs. 

Blurting something to cover her embarrassment, Sara had hurried to the 
kitchen. As she left the room, Sara was sure she heard her name mentioned as 
one of the girls whispered and the others broke out laughing. 

If they were laughing at her, Sara tried to convince herself that even that 
was better than sitting in there blushing like a complete idiot! 

How could they do that? How could they talk and laugh about something that 
should be so private, so sacred between two married people? 

As Jill left with the tray of gin and tonics, Sara sipped at hers and stayed 
in the kitchen, trying to put off going back into the living room for as 
long as possible. Suddenly, she heard the laughing louden in the other room 
and the kitchen door opened. It was Maria. 

"Sara, darling! What's taking you so long? You're holding up a new hand... 
and besides, the girls are awfully anxious to hear about that lovely husband 
of yours. 

"Wh... What do you mean?" Sara asked tremulously. "What about Bill?... I... 
I don't tinder- stand." 

"Oh, Sara, of course you do. We've all admired that handsome man you've got 
wrapped around your little finger... we just want to know if he's as virile 
as he looks... Come on, I'll give you a hand." Maria picked up one of the 
trays of canapes, and gave Sara a slight nudge toward the living room. 

"Wait!" she couldn't do it... she just couldn't... she didn't want to say 
anything, she didn't even know what to say! "What's the matter, honey?" 
asked Maria, with a little laugh in her voice, as she pushed Sara into a sea 
of expectant faces. 

She felt the blood rush to her face, and the room seemed to spin in dizzying 
circles... she felt so light, so free... and in the distance she could hear 
the tinkle of broken crystal. 

Sara awoke, trying to clear the cobwebs from her befuddled mind, trying to 
quiet the pounding, throbbing hammers in her brain. She was in bed. But how? 
Where? Then, as the clouding haze lifted, she remembered: she'd been walking 
back into the living room, it had been about Bill... they wanted her to talk 
about Bill... but what had happened? Why was she here? Whose bed was it? 

It was dark in the room, but suddenly a shaft of light washed across her 
face. There was someone in the doorway... it was Abby, their hostess! "Sara! 
how are you feeling, honey?" 

"Oh, Abby, what happened? Why am I here?" Abby tenderly placed a cool cloth 
on Sara's forehead. "Don't worry, dear. 

You just fainted... it was probably the heat and the gin. Just lie here for 
a while and relax. 

Bill won't be home this evening, will he?" After Sara had explained that 
Bill would be out of town for several more days, Abby said: "See, honey, 
there's nothing to be concerned about, just stay in here and take a nap; 
I'll wake you in a while." Sara started to thank her, but Abby had already 
stepped back and closed the door. 

As the room darkened again Sara's headache ebbed and she tried to 
reconstruct all that had happened to her that afternoon. She remembered 
playing bridge and losing... Good Grief!... she'd lost almost a hundred 
dollars! And then Maria and Jane had started talking about sex again, about 
their husbands and... that was if! They wanted Sara to tell them about Bill, 
about how he and Sara made love. They were laughing at her, and they wanted 
to know how big Bill's... how big Bill was! 

Even in the solitude of the dimly lit room Sara blushed as she remembered 
her embarrassment... and she knew it wasn't the heat or the drinks that had 
made her faint! 

She hadn't known what to say; they'd all been waiting like rabid vultures 
for her to stutter and stammer... to laugh at her, to tease her because she 
knew so little! 

Tears trickled down her cheeks. Why had she ever joined this awful afternoon 
bridge club? Even Jill, who was her best friend, made fun of her whenever 
she refused to join in on those terrible conversations. She hadn't known it 
would be like this. Why did they have to act that way? They had all seemed 
so nice at first. She'd looked up to them, admired them. They all seemed so 
worldly, so sophisticated! 

It wasn't her fault! Even if she hadn't had any experience with other men; 
she loved Bill, and she loved to go to bed with him! It didn't matter that 
she couldn't talk about wild experiences with hundreds of men... if they 
only knew... They were wrong! They had to be! If they experience what she 
felt when she and Bill made love they wouldn't have to talk about other men! 
They were just jealous... voyeurs! They didn't have anything beautiful 
themselves... those bitches! 

Sara felt better as she wiped the hot tears from her stained face. That was 
it! They were just a bunch of envious old hags! She'd drop out of the Lonely 
Hearts Bridge Club. 

Hah!, Lonely Hearts!... that's what they were, just a lot of bleeding old 
lonely hearts! 

She'd tell Bill, she'd tell him why she dropped out-that she wanted him to 
get a job that would let him come home to her each evening. They'd have 
children. They'd make each other so happy that she'd never feel lonely 
again! And when he came home after work she'd meet him at the door... 
sometimes they wouldn't even wait for dinner- he'd hold her, and she'd take 
his hand and lead him up the stairs to the bedroom. 

Sara's face felt flushed, but it wasn't from embarrassment. She remembered 
the other night, the night before Bill had gone on his trip... and the 
alcohol seemed to intensify the visions that whirled through her mind. 

They'd been out by the pool in the apartment complex, drinking tall cool rum 
collins, and Bill was telling her how wonderful it would be when he got 
promoted. How he'd be home every night to hold her, to make love to her; how 
they'd finally be able to have a child without worrying about the expense. 
They'd both been wearing bathing suits, and hers was a tiny bikini, the one 
he liked so much. 

At twenty-two, Sara knew she had a stunning body and Bill never stopped 
telling her how beautiful it was. They'd sit out by the swimming pool and 
he'd tease her about her high, thrusting breasts or her sleekly curved hips, 
and he delighted in pointing out the envious glances of the other less 
fortunate women or the covetous stares of the men. Sara had never realized 
how much attention she was attracting until he'd told her to take a closer 
look at the men around the pool. Then she'd seen them lying around on their 
stomachs peering under their arms at her, the way they "accidentally" bumped 
against her when she was in the pool... once she had caught Jill's 
husband... she giggled to herself as she remembered... he'd been staring at 
her over the top of a magazine he was so nonchalantly trying to appear 
reading, except that he had it upside down! 

Sara felt a chill race down her back and she drew her legs up and placed her 
hands between her knees like a small child as she remembered Bill taking her 
hand as they talked about making love. He'd dropped a hand on her thigh and 
was lightly tracing tantalizing designs up and down the silken skin with his 
fingertips, raising chill bumps all over her arms and back. Then he'd 
huskily whispered that it seemed to be cooler. Sara knew what he wanted, 
what SHE wanted, and she picked up the glasses and the towels and had to 
restrain herself from running back to their apartment past the other people 
at the pool. She and Bill had tried to walk casually back to their patio, 
but Sara wondered if the others had been able to see her legs trembling. 

Here, in Abby's bedroom, the afternoon heat seemed to have suddenly left the 
room and Sara shivered either from the coolness or from the erotic memory of 
the way she and Bill had made love. 

As Sara groped for the bedspread to pull it down she realized Abby must have 
removed the rest of her clothes earlier when she had laid her on the bed, 
because now Sara was wearing only her soft, wispy bra and panties. Yes, 
there they were on the chair, with the dress neatly folded. She pulled back 
the covers and as she slid underneath her body jerked with the sudden 
chilling shock of the crisp, cold sheets. Shivering, waiting for the bed to 
warm up, Sara huddled under the covers with her trembling hands clasped 
between her knees. 

While the warmth slowly returned to her body, Sara's thoughts were once 
again on Bill and the other afternoon. 

They had raced up the stairs laughing and Bill had caught her from behind. 
He'd grabbed the bottom of her bathing suit and as she twisted to get away 
from him he pulled it to her knees. With her legs trapped by the tiny bikini 
bottom she'd fallen at the top of the stairs and he landed laughingly on top 
of her. She kicked the suit off her ankles and tried unsuccessfully to get 
away from him. But he picked her up as if she were light as a feather and 
carried her, squealing and with arms and legs flailing helplessly, to the 
bedroom. 

Sara's eyes clouded and she felt a quiver of delight as she remembered how 
he had tossed her on the king-sized bed and slowly and teasingly removed the 
top of her bikini... she could almost feel his hands now... lacing their way 
lightly across her heaving breasts, across her sensitive erectile nipples 
and tantalizingly down the gentle curve of her stomach to the arching mound 
of soft, silken blonde hair between her legs. 

Huddled under the covers, still hazy from the alcohol, and immersed in the 
erotic fantasy of the other afternoon, Sara forgot the disturbing events 
earlier in the day and felt a calming peacefulness sweep over her. Her body 
tingled all over and she gently scratched her sharp fingernails across the 
prickling surface of her skin. She itched maddeningly under the restraining 
confines of her bra and panties, and she straightened out and reached behind 
her to undo the tiny hooks of the wispy black lace bra. As it fell free her 
breasts seemed to enlarge and her nipples grew unbelievably hard and erect. 

Her fingernails sent quivering chills through her body as her hands lightly 
traced their way to the elastic band of her flimsy nylon panties. She had to 
take them off! She itched everywhere that she was covered by clothing, but 
it felt so good to tease herself by removing them slowly. 

In the dark quietness of the room it was easy for her to pretend that Bill's 
hands, and not hers were caressing her aching body. Bill's hands that had 
hooked their thumbs in the matching black lace panties and were easing them 
down over her curved, straining thighs! 

As she brought her knees up to pull the briefs from her ankles, Sara was 
lost in the fanciful dream that Bill really was in bed with her... she could 
feel his hands... feel him touching her. 

God, she felt hot! When she kicked the panties somewhere beneath the covers 
she could feel his fingertips moving caressingly back up her legs, 
stopping-then continuing across the painfully sensitive golden skin, 
achingly over the backs of her legs, around to the soft, baby-smoothness of 
the insides of her arching thighs. 

She'd never felt his hands touch her so tenderly before! As if his 
fingertips knew just exactly where she wanted them to go! She could feel 
them brush ever so lightly across the sparse curled hair, and then back into 
the gentle crease on either side of her soft, honey-colored mound-the almost 
imperceptible lien that was formed by the juncture of her sleekly rounded 
thighs and the sudden rising arch of her pubis. 

She wanted to feel them inside her! She wanted his fingertips to scratch, to 
tantalize the thrusting bud of her clitoris-to part the moistened lips of 
her longing, lusting vagina... to venture hesitantly, then probingly into 
her very being. 

But they seemed to have some perverse will of their own! She wanted to cry 
out, to plead with Bill to keep his hands there, to beg him not to move... 
to reach inside her with his fingers!-But only a gasping moan came from her 
lips as she felt the torturing hands exploring upwards. 

Her mind screamed in agonized pleasure as teasing fingernails scratched 
their way across her heaving belly, lightly up and down the goose-pimpled 
flesh over her ribs. Her breasts! She wanted him to fondle her breasts! Why 
wouldn't he obey? Suddenly, as if in answer to her desires, a wave of pain 
and ecstasy jolted through her body as her nipples were twisted and pinched 
brutally. Then, in contrition, an apology for the hurt they had caused-his 
hands held her whole breasts softly and tenderly until the pain subsided. 

Sara threw back the covers, and her breath came in fiery gasps as she arched 
her back to the cool air. She spread her thighs and with her knees bent she 
raised her buttocks completely off the bed. Still holding her breasts with 
both hands, she thrust her belly and aching loins forward and outward, 
feeling the quick coolness as the perspiration on her thighs and tightened 
buttocks evaporated. 

The beautiful young blonde on the bed was totally under the spell of her 
sexual reverie. 

She believed, no, she knew her husband was there. Longing for her. And she 
was reaching out for him with her hungering loins... waiting for him to come 
inside her. 

Sara fell back on the bed. Her hands left her breasts, and she reached down 
between her thighs. Her straining, trembling fingers spread the throbbing 
lips of her vagina as wide as they would go, and she plunged two of them 
deeply into the pulsing furnace. 

Shadows danced across her ivory breasts as they rose and fell with her 
tortured breathing, and she thrust her fingers faster and faster in and out 
of her hot, hungry cunt. 

She scraped her fingernails ruthlessly across the hard, erectile button of 
her clitoris and waves of pain and pleasure swept through her, almost 
causing her to scream in lust and ecstasy. Her hands moved faster and more 
brutally, flashes of light exploded behind her closed eyes as she felt the 
boiling raging pressure building up inside her. 

A wild, fiery flame of fire was burning far down in her quivering belly and 
it drove her churning body on and on in its hungering quest for the 
delicious sensation building and building in every pore of her glistening 
body. 

And then it came! 

The muscles in her straining thighs contracted violently and she cried out 
wildly thinking the end was there but the driving, rhythmic thrusting of her 
fingers set off another explosion of delight that she never in her wildest 
dreams thought was possible. Her buttocks rotated frantically against the 
sheets beneath her like a helpless ship caught on the vicious waves of a 
raging storm. She arched her back, driving her head buffeting against the 
pillow, her hair spread like a golden fan, her full, quivering breasts 
trembling and swirling in jerking circles as she quickened her movements to 
meet the mounting urgency she could feel pulsating so deep inside her 
quivering belly. 

Now! Her legs jerked uncontrollably and a great tongue of erotic fire leaped 
up inside her and exploded in a volcanic eruption of climactic orgasm. 

Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! Aaaaaaahhh! she moaned, her head turning from side to side, 
her hair beating the pillow like a golden whip. The muscles of her hips and 
belly contracted in rolling waves of spasm until finally, weak and 
exhausted, she fell limply back onto the bed. 

It was almost two hours later that Sara was awakened by the gentle touch of 
Abby's hand on her shoulder. "Sara, dear, you must have had a terrible 
dream! Look at these sheets, they're soaking wet! Why don't you take a quick 
shower? I'll lay out some fresh towels in the bathroom and afterwards we'll 
meet in the den." 

As Abby quietly closed the door Sara slowly eased herself out of bed and 
turned on the lamp by the bed. The sudden light set off the insistent 
throbbing of her headache again and she had to grab a chair for support when 
she felt the weakness in her legs. 

A few moments later, under the stinging cold spray of the shower she felt 
her headache ebbing, and at the same time, felt a flush of shame spreading 
through her as she remembered how blatantly she had played With herself. 

She hadn't meant to! But the alcohol and the lewd words the women had used 
had driven her on! God! It had felt so much like Bill was there with her! So 
much like his hands! 

She increased the force of the spray, adding more hot water, and tried to 
scrub the stickiness from her body... she felt so unclean. Finally, the soap 
and the hot water made her feel better and she stepped from the shower into 
the steaminess of the bathroom. 

Wrapping herself in one of the huge towels Abby had laid out for her, Sara 
hurried back to the bedroom and dressed. 

Reflecting for a minute before she went downstairs, she could feel the tears 
welling up in her eyes. Why had she come today? It had been so horrible... 
they'd all laughed at her- and she had lost even more money. How could she 
have been so stupid? Bill was working so hard to save money so they could 
afford a child and she was losing it all at a stupid bridge game! 

She heard Abby calling her from the foot of the stairs and hurriedly brushed 
the tears from her cheeks and closed the door behind her. 

"Sara, go ahead into the den-I'll bring in the coffee." Sara leaned back on 
the couch in the walnut-panelled den and reached absently for one of the 
brandy snifters that had been set out on a small tray on the coffee table. 
God, she needed something to soothe her shattered nerves. It had been 
warmed, and the first sip sent a soothing stream of liquid heat down her 
throat and into her stomach. She sat there listlessly, rolling the amber 
cognac around in the glass between two hands, not even noticing the tears 
that the full-bodied fumes were once again bringing to her eyes. 

"Sara, dear, are you crying?" Her hostesses voice surprised her thoughts. 
"Oh, it must be the heated brandy. I thought it would go well with the 
coffee and it does taste so much better when it's been warmed." 

"What?... Oh, Abby... I... I guess I was crying. I feel so terrible!" Abby 
set down another tray with small demi-tasse cups, a silver coffee pot, and 
several little finger sandwiches, then consolingly put a plump arm around 
the younger girl's shoulder. "There... there... don't cry, dear. Here, dry 
your eyes. There's nothing to cry about, you just had a rough afternoon," 
Abby said with an understanding tone to her voice. "Have a little more 
brandy." 

Sara had already drained the snifter without really even tasting it, and she 
shakily held it out while Abby refilled it. Then, without warning, tears 
flowed in torrents from her eyes and she sobbed uncontrollably. "Oh, Abby... 
what can I do? It's not just this afternoon. It's the money! I've lost so 
much money!" 

A strange quirked little smile appeared at the corners of Abby's mouth and 
then vanished as quickly as it had come. 

"Sshhh... honey, don't cry... you'll win it back. Everyone has streaks when 
they'll lose for a while. Don't worry, you'll start winning, and no one will 
be able to stop you." 

"But A-abby... " Sara interrupted, "I keep losing... I have to keep getting 
money from you to pay my debts. How am I ever going to be able to pay you 
back?" 

Sara's shoulders shook convulsively, and she buried her head in both hands 
trying to stem the flow of tears streaming down her face. 

Abby patted her tenderly and handed her the glass of brandy. "Here, sip 
this... it'll make you feel better and I'm certain we can work something 
out." 

The two of them seated on the curved couch in the richly furnished den 
looked almost like mother and daughter from a distance. The young girl, even 
with a tear-stained face and disarrayed honey-blonde hair, had light golden 
skin and was almost unbelievably beautiful. She was tall and slender but her 
figure was strikingly formed, with long graceful legs and full womanly 
breasts. Abby Baines was not quite as tall and the tell-tale signs of middle 
age were discernable if one looked close enough, but it was easy to see that 
at one time she would have easily rivaled the younger girl in beauty. She 
had gained, perhaps, a little too much weight but the exquisitely tailored 
clothing she always wore usually hid that fact from the men that admired her 
distinctive and aristocratic attractiveness. 

It was only when you came closer and compared the almost child-like innocent 
aura that surrounded Sara Donovan with hard coldness of the older woman. And 
now, with the girl silently weeping on her shoulder Abby Baines sat, seeming 
to console her, but with an expression of indifferent contempt lining her 
lips. 

The warming glow of the cognac had made Sara feel considerably better, she 
could feel it spreading soothingly through her whole body and she made no 
objection when Abby reached to pour her a third glass. 

"There, child... I've always found a little brandy and coffee can get rid of 
most problems," Abby said gently. 

Once the tears had cleared away, the younger girl leaned back and relaxed a 
little. "Thank you so much, I don't know what I would have done without your 
help," Sara said throatily. 

Abby had been so kind to her. She was the undisputed social leader of the 
small town of Monterey and Sara had been pleased and astonished when she had 
been invited to meet with her exclusive circle and to join them fervor 
Tuesday when they played bridge. Even though Sara knew she had probably been 
asked only because Bill had recently been transferred and now worked for 
Winston Baines, Abby's husband. 

At first, Sara had been a little awed by Abby Baines, the statuesque Jill 
Adams, and the others -but they had all been so receptive and anxious to put 
her at ease that her discomfort lasted only a short time. The Tuesday bridge 
parties were usually very entertaining, particularly at first, and because 
Sara had always been considered an almost exceptional bridge player she had 
had no qualms when Abby had suggested one day that they liven up the games 
by betting small amounts on the games. As a matter of fact, she was secretly 
delighted because she felt sure she could win, and the extra money would 
come in so handy. Besides, she couldn't really have backed out anyway; with 
Bill working for Abby's husband, Sara knew she could help him considerably 
by making a good impression on Abby. 

But, things had been going so badly! For over three months she had been 
losing consistently, and if it hadn't been for Abby herself she would have 
been in a terrible spot! 

After the third week when Sara had already lost almost a hundred dollars 
Abby must have noticed the worried look in her eyes and when the games ended 
she quietly called her aside. 

"Sara, dear-when the losses were totaled up you seemed to be a little 
distressed... can I help in any way?" Sara, rather than telling the truth 
(that she really couldn't afford to play at these stakes) had told her but 
of pride that it wasn't really the money so much, instead that she was 
worried about facing Bill with her losses. Abby had laughed in agreement, 
made some remark about men never having to account for their gambling losses 
and how rough it was for a lonely wife to have a little fun... and then had 
offered to advance any money that Sara needed. Initially, Sara had protested 
loudly until Abby had insisted, telling her that she wouldn't miss the money 
anyway, that she'd grown to like Sara so much that she couldn't bear the 
thought of her dropping out of the club just because of some paltry gambling 
debt, and mostly because Sara could easily pay her back when she started to 
win. 

Finally, Sara had acquiesced, and since that time Abby had been slipping her 
money on the side to cover any of her losses. It was so quietly and 
graciously done that Sara didn't even have any idea how much money she had 
borrowed from Abby. She knew it must be a considerable amount because her 
luck hadn't changed at all, it had even gotten worse, and she lost quite a 
bit every week. 

There had been many times when she had thought about dropping out of the 
club, but that wouldn't have worked. At least while she was playing she had 
a chance of winning some of the money back so that she could repay Abby, but 
if she quit she'd have no way to pay her back and she could imagine what 
that would do to Bill's career with Mr. Baines company if Abby decided to 
complain... though she knew Abby was too nice to do that. 

And now, sitting on the couch with Abby, Sara's mind was working furiously. 
The glow that the brandy had suffused throughout her body had loosened her 
inhibitions and her fear of embarrassing herself, and she had decided to 
tell Abby the truth: That she was going too far into debt and would really 
have to drop out for a while. She was going to explain how Bill had been 
working so hard for a promotion so that he would be able to stop travelling, 
how he'd been trying so hard to save enough so that they could finally plan 
their first child. 

She'd tell Abby how wonderful, how very wonderful Bill was, and what it 
might do to their marriage if Bill found out what she had been doing all the 
time he had been trying so hard to save money. 

Although she wanted desperately for the other women in the club to think 
that she was the wife of a very successful and well-to-do young businessman, 
she knew Abby would understand how they had been struggling and why she had 
been embarrassed to tell the others. 

"Sara... Sara... " 

"What?... Oh, Abby, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I was wrapped up in my thoughts." 
Abby had been tapping her lightly on the shoulder and it had taken a moment 
to snap her out of her imagined conversation. 

"Sara, dear, are you feeling better now, has the brandy helped any?" 

Sara, looking into the almost motherly warmth of Abby's face, felt a bond 
between her and the older woman, and knew that Abby would understand what 
she had to say. "Abby... I've got to talk to you... " 

"Certainly, my dear, is something wrong between you and Bill?" 

"Oh no, it's nothing like that, not yet... it's the money I've been 
borrowing from you... I've... I've lost so much, and I never can ever seem 
to win anything." 

Sara went on to tell Abby everything, how she couldn't afford to lose 
anymore, that she'd have to find some other way to pay her back. Too ashamed 
to look at Abby while she was talking, Sara sat staring into the golden 
amber of her cognac, her eyes slightly glazed from the brandy and the tears 
that slowly formed as words spilled hesitantly, jerkingly forth... 
punctuated by silent sobs. 

As Sara repeated again that she had to quit, she just had to... she lifted 
her head pleadingly, only to see a different Abby!... a look she had never 
seen before in her eyes. 

The older woman's face had lost its compassion -the hard, cold glitter in 
her eyes was made even more foreboding by the sharp creases that bordered 
her frown. Disbelievingly, Sara stared at the hardened mask of Abby's face. 
As confused explanations tumbled through the younger girl's mind, Abby 
Baines rose and looked contemptuously down at the weeping girl. 

"Stop it, Sara!... I lent you all of this money because you seemed like a 
responsible person-and now you tell me you want to drop out of the club and 
apparently the club's the only way you'll ever have to pay me back... what 
do you want me to do?... FORGET IT! 

"But, I... I told you... " 

"You told me what! You've done nothing but whimper all afternoon! What are 
you, too good for us?" 

"What do you mean?... " 

"It wasn't the heat! You're a mature woman, or at least I thought you were. 
Do our conversations disgust you... are they below your exalted position? At 
first, it was funny- but now I've realized that you're just a sniping little 
prude!" 

Sara's shoulders shook convulsively. Her heaving sobs choking the words she 
tried to express. "I... I'm not a... please, Abby... why... why?" 

"I'll tell you this much, little Miss Donovan... you're not dropping out of 
this club until I say so! You owe me that money and you're going to pay it 
back... or I can make things very unpleasant for you... and Bill! Is that 
understood?" 

Sara cried out. "Bill!... you wouldn't hurt Bill... he doesn't have anything 
to do with this... " 

"He may not have anything to do with it now, but he will. Do you have any 
idea what would happen if I had a little talk with Winston about this? He'd 
fire him in a minute, and... also, my little pet, he'd make certain he 
didn't work again for awhile anywhere!" 

Before Sara could even answer, Abby continued: "If I were you, dear, I would 
do some serious thinking between now and next Tuesday as to just how you 
plan to take care of this little matter." 

With icy calmness, Abby carefully set down her half-empty Brandy snifter on 
the table and turned towards the double oaken doors of the den. When she 
reached them she looked back at the stricken form trembling on the couch 
and, as a parting remark: "I'm sure you'll be able to find your way out the 
door as many times as you've taken advantage of my hospitality." The sound 
of the massive doors closing was echoed by the words: "See you Tuesday, and 
be on time!" 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Damn it! Why is that stove so slow? That roast is going to take at least 
another half hour, Sara thought as she closed the oven door. Checking the 
vegetables on the stove once again, she tried to think if there was anything 
that she had missed. Tonight had to be perfect! She wanted everything to be 
just right. 

It was Friday-and Bill would be home any minute. She'd been planning this 
dinner ever since Wednesday afternoon when she had resolved to tell him 
everything that had happened at Abby's the day before... there was no other 
way out. Even if Abby does go through with her threat and jeopardize Bill's 
job... she can't take the risk of losing any more money, money that they 
don't have-she and Bill can do something... they can sell one of the cars, 
or something... Maybe Abby won't do anything, maybe Mr. Baines won't blame 
it on Bill... but if they do, I've got to tell Bill first... before they 
tell him! 

And, I will tell him! she thought. I'll tell him tonight after a beautiful 
dinner and wine. He'll understand. He loves me-he won't let some old 
bitch... or money come between us. 

Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into 
the driveway. 

Bill! She ran back into the kitchen to the refrigerator. Taking the two 
tulip-shaped chilled glasses and the bottle of champagne with her, she 
hurried back to the front door to meet him. 

Throwing open the door to hand him the champagne bottle as a surprise, she 
felt a jar and heard the crash of breaking glass. She didn't know what had 
happened until she saw the broken foaming bottle of champagne that he was 
holding and the dripping roses in his other hand. As they both stood there 
holding broken bottles they began to laugh. 

"Darling!" Bill said, as he dropped the broken chards of glass and flowers 
and reached for her. Without a word, they stood there with their arms around 
each other and laughing hysterically. 

Still laughing, he said, "Well, that's a hell of a note! Here I try to 
surprise you and you swing at me with a bottle of champagne!" 

"Oh, Darling, I wanted to surprise you! Why didn't you warn me?" 

"Don't worry about the wine... I've got two more surprises for you! Follow 
me!" And Bill took her hand and led her back out toward the garage. "What is 
it, Bill? What are... where are you taking me?" 

"Close your eyes, you'll see." 

Sara was pulled along as she heard the garage door opening. She could hear 
the joy in Bill's voice as he asked her: "What's your favorite color?" She 
started to open her eyes when he said, "Wait! What is it?" It slowly began 
to dawn on her what it was, and with a sense of foreboding, she said: "Oh, 
Bill... I don't know... WHY?" 

"Open your eyes!" There it was! She knew it! The brand new Thunderbird 
convertible they'd been looking at so longingly for the past two months. 

"Oh, Bill, it beautiful!... but, how?... We can't afford it! Bill looked at 
her with a twinkle in his eye. "Yesterday we couldn't... But today you're 
looking at the new sales manager of Rejoyce Plastics, Inc. I took all our 
savings and plunked it right down on this little baby. 

Now, if we save carefully we can have the real baby we've wanted so long in 
less than a year." 

"Oh Bill... " she said, trying to hide the tears forced into her eyes by the 
flood of confused emotions. 

In the background behind the stinging saltiness, she could hear him 
whispering in her ear how wonderful it was... how long they'd waited. 

Bill had mistaken her tears for tears of joy, and laughing happily he led 
her back to the apartment. "Here, we can't have a sales manager's wife cut 
her royal feet," and he picked her up and carried her into the living room. 

As he went back to gather the bouquet of roses he'd dropped, her thoughts 
whirled frantically with the news of his promotion... and his spending of 
their savings... There was no way! she couldn't tell him about her gambling 
debts now. 

"Dear, is something burning?" Bill said from he doorway, his hands full of 
broken glass and flowers. 

THE ROAST! She'd burnt the roast! "Oh, no! the roast," Sara ran into the 
kitchen. 

Later, as they sat at the small candlelit table, Bill was teasing Sara, 
"Darling, I like roast beef this way... it's sorta' crunchy! I'd say it was 
a job very well done!" 

"Bill, you stop it! It's all your fault. If you hadn't gone out and gotten 
promoted and bought a new car, the roast would have been just perfect." 

"Darling, you still haven't told me... what was your surprise? Why the 
candlelight and champagne?" asked Bill curiously. Sara almost panicked 
momentarily, but said: "It wasn't anything special, Honey, just that I love 
you and missed you so much!" 

When Sara had been setting the table Bill had driven down to the liquor 
store and replaced the two bottles of champagne they'd broken. Throughout 
the dinner, as they talked about how wonderful it was going to be as soon as 
Bill no longer had to travel with his job (the promotion meant that in three 
months Bill would be assigned to the home office here in Monterey,) and as 
they laughed and toasted each other the champagne had been flowing like 
wine. The bubbling wine had affected Sara the way he had known it would, 
from the way she looked at him and the way she reached across continually 
and ran her fingers lightly up and down his thigh. 

He took her hand, telling her to forget about the dishes, and led her into 
the living room. 

He'd built a fire earlier and the flickering light from the fire- place was 
the only illumination in the room. Spread out on the floor in front of the 
fireplace were several sheepskin rugs a friend of his, a pilot for Qantas 
Airlines, had brought back from Australia. As Sara stretched out on their 
three-inch softness, Bill returned to the kitchen for the second bottle of 
champagne and two more chilled glasses in the refrigerator. Coming back into 
the dimly lit living room, he was almost overwhelmed with desire and love 
for his wife as he stood quietly watching her. She lay on her stomach gazing 
into the fire and the dancing light from the flames had given her hair the 
color of burning gold. 

She was wearing probably the only dress he'd ever picked out for her, and 
the one he liked best. It was a short white Roman toga that fastened over 
one shoulder with a huge gold clasp... made of soft clinging material the 
pleated skirt swirled gracefully as she walked and the top was molded to her 
breasts like a coating of ivory paint. 

She never wore it except when they were alone, and then without a bra, her 
nipple clearly visible beneath the translucent whiteness. 

Now, as she lay facing the fire, the toga had slid up almost to the tops of 
her thighs and only shadows prevented him from seeing the arched mounds of 
her buttocks. He had heard once that a woman should be like a saint to all 
men but her husband, and for him she should have the wantonness of a 
prostitute-For Bill, Sara had made this saying a reality. In the company of 
others she had the appearance of an innocent and virginal maiden but when 
they were alone she was unbelievably sensuous-reveling in the desires she 
could create in him-the excitement he felt at the mere sight of her long 
silken legs or the brushing caress of her proud thrusting breasts. 

She was Cleopatra, Mata Hari, Marie Antoinette and Helen of Troy in one! And 
yet, she never used her body, her sensual power over him, as a bribe-a lever 
to extract from him what she desired. One of the reasons, perhaps, was that 
she herself didn't have the will power to deny herself the pleasures of his 
touch or the ecstasy of making love. 

Sara lay in the enfolding softness of the great rugs and, as the lights 
danced before her eyes, thought of Bill. The happiness in him tonight and 
the champagne had driven all thoughts of Abby and her demands from her mind. 
Bathed in the glowing warmth of the fire she felt, more than heard, her 
husband come back into the room. 

She knew he was standing back looking at her, and she luxuriated in the 
knowledge of how beautiful she was tonight. Almost feeling the heat of his 
eyes on the curved length of her legs, she stretched and slid back 
slightly-knowing that it made her diaphanous dress move even further up her 
thighs. 

Bill pushed the slippers from his feet and kicked them away as he moved 
softly toward the fireplace. He could feel his legs weaken when he knelt 
beside his wife and set down the glasses. As he untwisted the wire of the 
champagne cork she rolled languorously over onto her side, propping herself 
up on one elbow. The quiet crackling of the logs was shattered by the sudden 
popping of the cork and his hand was soaked by the foaming wine. As he 
reached for the towel the bottle had been wrapped in to dry himself, she set 
down her glass and took his hand between hers. She gently brought his hand 
to her mouth and gazing up at him with a smoldering mystery in her eyes, she 
ran her tongue between his fingers and across his palm, lapping the bubbling 
champagne like a great golden cat. 

His palm tingled at the feathering touch of her tongue, and as she began to 
nibble at the tiny hairs on his wrist, he shakily filled the two champagne 
glasses with his free hand. 

The firelight made the rising bubbles look like dancing diamonds in the 
glass he offered to her proffered lips. She cupped the glass in her palm, 
the stem extending between two fingers and leaned sensuously back onto a 
huge pillow beckoning him to share it with her. 

Bill moved forward onto his knees, turning onto his side, his lips separated 
from hers only by the width of the crystal goblet. The glass tilted back and 
forth between them slowly. 

The sea of wine rolled back and forth in gentle swells reflecting the warm 
fire in their eyes as they sipped. The heat on his face from the burning 
logs and wine grew more intense as he watched his wife's pink, curling 
tongue dip into the champagne and saw her seductive gaze reach out to him 
from beneath her lowered eyelashes. 

Bill took the glass from her cupped hands and drained it. He lifted it. "To 
love" And with a sudden flick of his wrist sent it shattering against the 
back of the fireplace. 

Wordlessly, he reached for her, his hand behind her head drawing her to him, 
their lips momentarily apart... reaching out but not quite touching. He 
moved slightly closer, grasping her lower lip between his teeth, pulling the 
moist, soft flesh toward him... his teeth slipping off, and his lips 
enfolding her as he sucked her lip into his mouth. 

Sara felt a tingling shock of electricity run icily into her mouth. Her 
darting tongue plunged deep into his mouth, back over the roof and across 
the front of his teeth, caressing the soft underside of his upper lip. 

Bill leaned forward, his momentum pushing them both back onto the pillow. 
Crushing his mouth hard against hers as he thrust his tongue deep into the 
yearning heat of her mouth. 

Her arms reached to encircle her neck, but he held them apart, spreading 
them wide as he crushed her hack into the softness of the pillow. 

He lifted himself to one knee and rolled, half-sitting, to her side. She lay 
back against the pillow, her arms wide and her legs slightly spread... 
eyelashes shadowing her cheeks as she closed her eyes. 

The fire cast a saffron glow across the supplicant shapeliness of his wife's 
reclining body. 

Bending, he traced his fingers lightly across the arch of her feet... across 
her ankle... and slowly up the swelling curve of her calf. Around to the 
soft velvetness of the skin at the back of her knee, and returning to the 
tightening muscles of her thigh... flexing to the rhythm of her rising and 
falling breasts. 

Her other leg drew up, then straightened as his fingers moved to the silken 
softness of the skin on the inside of her thigh. He felt her tremble 
slightly as his hand moved onward toward the arching mound covered only by 
the wispiness of white bikini panties. 

His hand was now beneath the pleated folds of her toga and he continued 
upward until it touched the dampness of her panties. His little finger 
brushed the elastic ridge at her thigh and he tenderly slipped it under the 
tightness, touching the tousled mound of golden hair... not stopping, but 
moving along just under the silk to the outside of her hip. 

He could feel the desire, the urgency in her trembling body, but instead of 
letting his hand remain there... where she wanted it... he withdrew it from 
beneath her toga and moved his fingers across the gentle swell of her belly 
to her side. His fingertips bounced softly across the ripples of her ribs, 
and in the soft firelight he could see gooseflesh prickle across her 
outstretched arms. 

He traced circling lines across her breasts, watching the cloth covering the 
heaving mounds stretch as her nipples hardened, protruding as if they would 
push their way right through the silken imprisonment. 

Sara's eyes were still closed tightly, her hands clenching and 
unclenching... moaning softly as he tortured her with his hands. He could 
see the pinkness of her tongue as she moistened her half-parted lips, felt 
her tautness as she quivered beneath his touch. 

He reached for the gold clasp at her shoulder and she raised slightly to 
make it easier for him to unfasten, at the same time sliding down away from 
the pillow so that she was lying only on the feather softness of the 
sheepskin rugs. 

As he pulled the clasp loose, the silk that had been pulled so tightly 
across her breasts fell away... exposing the redness and erectness of her 
left nipple. Her whole breast was bare, thrusting firmly upward and he took 
the nipple between his fingers, feeling her body jerk as he squeezed it and 
scratched his fingernail across the brown aureole around it. 

Bill raised himself up onto both knees, and taking her toga in his hands, he 
began to ease it down her body... over her other breast and down to her 
waist until it was bunched around her hips. 

She arched her back high off the floor so that he was able to slide it from 
beneath her. He inched the ivory dress slowly down her thighs watching her 
phenomenal body emerge like a beautiful butterfly from a silken cocoon. 

As he pulled it from her ankles and tossed it somewhere behind him she lay 
there before the flickering lights of the fire wearing nothing but her 
panties... a triangular patch of white on a sea of gold. 

Sara reached out for him, her eyes clouded with desire... and her hips 
undulating in revolving circles on the soft fur. 

But Bill wouldn't hurry. The eight days he'd been away had seemed like 
months and he wanted to know again, to touch again every golden inch of his 
wife's soft, suppliant body. 

He slipped his fingers beneath the elastic waistband and began to tug her 
panties from her hips. As she lifted to help he pulled them from under her 
buttocks and, with the firm insistence of his hands, rolled her over until 
she was lying face down before the fire. 

He ran his eyes, then his hands, across the graceful curve of her back, then 
over the arching mounds of her buttocks-lightly between the shadowed crease 
between them, the soft tendrils of light golden hair tickling his fingers as 
his hands moved lower... to the satin downiness of her thighs. 

When his hands reached her ankles, he bent even lower, almost double, so 
that he could run his tongue along the backs of her legs... stopping every 
inch or two to brush his lips across the satin skin. 

Though it may have only taken moments, all time had stopped before the 
dancing firelight and it seemed like hours before Sara felt his lips finally 
traverse the full length of her body and felt the burning heat of his breath 
on her neck. He ran his tongue around the rims of her ears, plunging it deep 
inside. Through the roaring echoing of his breathing she heard him tell her 
to roll over and she weakly complied. Her whole body seemed aflame in an 
explosion of throbbing senses... her tortured nerves screamed out! She 
couldn't take anymore! She was going mad! 

And then she felt his tongue dart across the tips of her nipples, sending 
jolting shock after shock through her, and then it was gone. 

There it was again! She moaned as his tongue moved tantalizingly across her 
belly... into the soft curled mound of pubic hair between her legs. 

His lips probed and explored until he found the erect, pulsing button of her 
clitoris. He heard her cry out in agonized pleasure as he took the tiny 
pulsating bud between his teeth and holding it tightly, ran his tongue 
around and around in ever decreasing circles, until, at last, he opened his 
mouth wider and moved his tongue downward. Down the smooth, moistened slit 
to the heated, throbbing opening of her vagina. 

With his head buried in the hot muskiness of her loins, Bill couldn't see 
her, but he could feel her head rolling from side to side as he tongued her, 
and he could hear her whimpering mewling sighs each time he swirled it 
around the velvet inside of the soft hairlined lips before his eyes. He drew 
her legs up and then slid his arms under them so that his shoulders and arms 
were wedged between her thighs. 

He slipped his hands beneath her thighs and pushed them further up until 
they draped over his shoulders and then he shifted his hands under her 
quivering buttocks and pulled them up toward him brutally. 

Sara's cry of pleasure filled the small room as she felt him plunge his 
tongue deep into the liquid depths between her legs. She reached jerkily for 
him and buried her hands in his hair, trying to push him further... further 
into her. 

Aaaahhhhaaaaaaa! Aaahhaaaa! "Please... Darling... please! I want you! I want 
you inside of me!... Please! aahhhhhhih... I want you to fuck me!... now... 
NOW! 

She twisted his hair, pulling him violently upward. She saw the thin film of 
creamy moisture around his mouth as she pulled him to her-and her hands 
shook tremulously as she moved her lips to his, licking the wetness from 
them. "Please, darling... she gasped... I want to feel you in me! Please 
hurry!" 

Her words had excited him to frenzied, blinding passion, and as he reached 
frantically for the belt of his smoking jacket he felt her hands tearing at 
the waist of his trousers. He threw the coat from him just as she pulled his 
zipper all the way down and snapped the button loose from his pants. She 
yanked them from his legs, and her hands scrabbled for his shorts. He heard 
them rip as she pulled them from him, and then she pushed him back flat on 
his back. 

His throbbing penis, sprung free from the shorts, stood pointing upward and 
swollen to immense dimensions. And, as she crawled frantically back up from 
his feet, he felt her lips surround it... her teeth bite him viciously, as 
she laved the thick fluid that oozed from its blood-filled head. Then, as 
quickly as her lips had enveloped him, they left him... and she moved 
further up to straddle him with her legs spread out on either side of his 
body. 

With both hands grasping his huge, pulsating penis, she raised her hips... 
and then parting the slit between her legs with its tip... she dropped back 
down onto him... swallowing him in the boiling urgency of her cunt! 

"Aaarrrgghh!" he cried in pain, the swollen head of his cock ramming deep 
into the hardness of her cervix as she dropped heavily onto him. And then, 
the sudden agony was replaced by unimaginable desire as he felt the smooth, 
wet walls of her pussy throbbing heatedly around him, her body squirming 
salaciously out of control. 

He tried to meet the driving rhythm of Sara's hips as she furiously rode him 
like a bare-backed Brahma bull... but she was completely out of control... 
frantic!... with no defined rhythm... and there was no way he could match 
her. He lay back, his hands slapping the rug at his sides, his mind whirling 
in rising planes of ecstasy. 

Her hips writhed uncontrollably now, rising and falling... rotating in 
great, huge circles against his straining loins... her breasts and belly 
grinding against him when she leaned forward. 

Like a glistening, golden goddess she rode him until suddenly she felt it 
rising deep inside her. The licking tongues of flaming lust that had to be 
quenched, drowned in the hot, swirling liquid of orgasm she could feel 
boiling inside her passion wracked body! 

Bill, beneath her, had found the rhythm of her churning hips, and met each 
downward thrust with driving power that matched her own-burying himself 
deeper and deeper up into her belly until they had become blended into one 
great burning furnace of passion. 

Blinding flashes of light exploded in her brain as she felt the whole of her 
trembling, quivering belly erupt like a thousand small volcanos around the 
thick, driving shaft of flesh plunging to the very center of her senses... 
and, simultaneously she heard a harsh, guttural cry beneath her and felt a 
torrential, jerking flood of thick, spurting sperm raging far up into her... 
a fiery, rapid-running river of heat. 

Her cries... "I'm cumming! Darling, I'm cuuummmmmmming!" were drowned by the 
fleshy sounds of their bodies slapping wildly together and the musky scent 
of climactic orgasm mixed obscenely with the animal odor of male and female 
sweat. 

 CHAPTER THREE 

Though it wasn't even eleven in the morning yet, the heat blowing in from 
the valley made the house almost unbearable. Usually, cooling breezes from 
the harbor protected the small town of Monterey from the scorching 
temperatures of the Salinas Valley, but for the last two days there had been 
no landward winds from the Pacific, and the temperatures in Monterey had 
ranged relentlessly in the low hundreds. 

Sara sat in the sweltering heat, feeling the perspiration trickle down her 
back, and waited for Jill Adams to pick her up. 

It was Tuesday... Bridge Day. 

Her skin prickled in dread as she wondered how she would be able to face 
Abby Baines. 

In the three days that Bill had been home Sara had been unable to tell him 
of her predicament with his boss' wife... unable to bring herself to ruin 
his elation over his promotion. Those three days had been a nightmare for 
her, not the many times they made love, but all the times that Bill had held 
her and talked tenderly of the future. 

His joy had been so complete. He had raved happily about how he would never 
have to leave her alone again, the child they could now afford to have, and 
how lucky he was to have a wife that had stood by him without complaint when 
he had taken a job that had kept them apart so much. Sara had wanted to cry 
out that she hadn't stood by him, that she had probably ruined his 
future-but something had always stopped her, perhaps the faint hope that she 
would be able to reason with Abby. 

She'd kept telling herself that Abby would have to understand... somehow or 
another, Sara would find a way to pay her back... perhaps she might even 
start winning as Abby had said and then there wouldn't be any problem at 
all. 

But now, as she sat waiting for her ride, her fears had returned in full 
force. What if Abby went ahead with her threat? What would happen to her 
marriage? 

Her mind raced in frantic circles. There must be some way! There had to be! 
She wouldn't go to the bridge club! 

No, she had to! She remembered Abby's last words, and knew that if she 
didn't show up, even with some excuse, that that might be the one thing that 
would force Abby to tell her husband, Bill's boss, everything. 

Even the screwdriver she was drinking, orange juice liberally laced with 
vodka, hadn't calmed her at all, and she almost dropped the glass as the 
morning stillness was shattered by the doorbell. 

She rose shakily and went to greet Jill at the front door. 

Earlier that morning, Abby Baines and Jill Adams had been talking, and if 
Sara had been able to overhear that conversation. 

"I think we have our little lady exactly where we want her," the older woman 
said contemptuously. "It's time to lead our little lamb to slaughter." Jill 
nodded, and asked:. "Are you sure she'll come today? What if she isn't there 
when I go to pick her up?" 

"Don't worry... if you'd seen the expression on her face the other day when 
I threatened to ruin her precious husband's career! She'll be there! All we 
have to do is make sure she loses again today. Our signals appear to be 
working very well, just don't slip up." 

"How are you going to get her to join us?... What if she decides to go to 
the police?" Jill asked, as she lit another cigarette. 

"Don't worry. That little brat doesn't have the nerve... besides, I didn't 
know how badly we had her hooked until she told me her tender plans for the 
future last week. That pitiful little child provided me with all the 
ammunition I'll ever need," Abby said scornfully. "Oh yes, and to top it 
off- Winston told me that he had promoted Bill Donovan to sales manager- and 
Sara would never do anything to jeopardize that!" She chuckled, as she 
added: "She's fallen right into our lap... and I know several men who will 
make her very profitable for us!" 

A short-lived moment of sympathy for Sara passed through Jill's mind, but 
was replaced quickly by jealous satisfaction when she remembered her envious 
dislike for the too-beautiful girl. Too many times she had seen the covetous 
glances of her husband and the other men when they were confronted with 
Sara's breathtaking loveliness. Well, she'd show them! Their little goddess 
would be nothing more than a whore, no better than the rest of them! She 
might even tell Dick, her husband! She'd like to see the expression on his 
face after the many times he'd thrown Sara's refinement and delicateness in 
her face. 

She'd like to see Dick grab that little bitch and really throw it to her 
while she stood by watching. 

Jill's invidious thoughts were interrupted by the realization that Abby was 
trying to speak to her. "Jill, are you listening? I said it's time for you 
to pick up Sara. And be as nice as you possibly can. I've found the shock 
treatment to be best-and she'll certainly get that before the afternoon is 
over!" Jill stood, remembering that the shock treatment certainly was best. 
At least, it had worked very well on her when Abby had suddenly confronted 
her several months ago on that horrible afternoon. "Oh, and Jill, stay after 
the others have left, I want to talk to you about the money you owe me." 

Well, she had stayed alright and Abby had already arranged for several of 
her male clients to be there. And... she had paid back most of it in that 
one afternoon and the other afternoons that followed although now she was 
almost right back where she had started with her heavy betting and all. It 
had turned out to be one never ending circle -gamble... whore awhile... 
gamble... whore awhile... and she knew, beyond all shadow of a doubt that 
Abby now had the young innocent Sara ensnared in it too. 

It was only a question of hours now. 

Sara stepped hesitantly into the living room, murmuring a quiet hello to 
Marie who met her at the door. Most of the others were already there, but 
she couldn't see Abby anywhere. 

The three bridge tables were already set, and trays laden with sandwiches 
and iced tea were close by. 

Sara panicked. She wanted to run away from that horrible woman, but her feet 
felt rooted to the floor. The screwdrivers she had drunk earlier had worn 
off in the heat of the drive over with Jill, and left her with a minor, but 
insistent headache. Glancing nervously about for Abby, she made herself a 
strong vodka and grapefruit juice-mixing the two almost half and half. 

She stood to the side of the other women and hurriedly gulped it down and 
moved to mix another as she heard Abby call cheerfully from the kitchen that 
she'd be right in. 

Her nervousness at another encounter with Abby had dulled her other senses 
and she barely tasted the sharpness of her drink as she swallowed it. 

The kitchen door swung open, and Sara felt a sudden chill streak down her 
back as Abby walked in with another tray. 

Sara panicked. She wanted to run away from that horrible woman, but her feet 
felt rooted to the carpet. Abby passed close by her as she set the tray down 
on a table nearby. "Abby... I... I... " 

"Oh, Sara... how are you?" Abby said cheerfully. And then, she quietly 
added: "Don't worry about anything, Honey-we'll talk about it later. We can 
work something out. 

Today's going to be your lucky day!" 

Whereas before, Sara had been drinking to fill the void left by the fear of 
what Abby might say- now, as the games continued, she drank in happiness. 
She felt as if a huge, terrible weight had been lifted from her shoulders. 
Abby was being so nice, so cordial to her that the other afternoon had faded 
away like a bad childhood dream. 

Even the fact that she was losing again lost its importance as she sipped 
another drink and thought about how wonderfully everything had turned out. 

Perhaps, if her mind hadn't been numbed by the alcohol or by the unfounded 
sense of well-being, she might have been aware of the satisfied gleam that 
appeared in Abby's eyes whenever she turned to look at Sara. As it was, she 
only smiled happily whenever the older woman patted her on the shoulder or 
offered small words of encouragement. 

It was only when they were putting away the cards after the last game and 
Abby asked her to stay for a moment that Sara felt a warning red light flash 
in her mind. That was silly, Abby had been so nice all afternoon. She 
probably just wanted to tell her again not to worry, or maybe, just to talk 
to her about an easy way that she would be able to arrange to pay back the 
money she'd borrowed. 

The door closed as the last of the others left. Except Jill. Sara had seen 
her disappear down one of the hallways a moment ago. 

"Sara, why don't you make yourself a drink in the den? I'll be right in." 

A drink. That's what she needed. Sara walked a little unsteadily into the 
den and to the bar. It was so strange, she thought as she mixed herself a 
vodka on the rocks. Just a few hours ago I would have sworn I would never 
come into this room again. The memory of the week before had been too 
painful. 

She settled back onto the couch, the warmth of the straight vodka and the 
reflection of how well things had turned out spreading its cheerful glow 
through her body. 

She turned at the sound of someone entering the room, expecting to see Abby, 
but finding Jill instead. "Oh, Jill, come in and have a drink with me -I'm 
just waiting for Abby." 

Jill smiled, a little strangely, Sara thought, and took Sara's outstretched 
glass. "Just a little vodka with ice, please." 

Jill handed her her new drink and sat in one of the large armchairs across 
from her. Sara started to comment on one of the hands where she and her 
partner had lost so much to Jill and Abby when they were joined by the other 
woman. 

"Oh, Abby, I was just going to ask Jill how you and she always seemed to..." 
She stopped suddenly, because Abby's face, like a chameleon's color, had 
changed again. 

Her cheerful pleasantness had been replaced by the look that Sara knew so 
well... The hard coldness that had frozen her face in down-turned creases 
last week. 

"Eight-hundred and seventy dollars!" The harshness of her voice, and the 
ringing clarity of those few words hung leadenly in the stillness of the 
room. 

"As of today, Sara, that's what you owe me. Eight-hundred and seventy 
dollars! Do you have it!" 

Trying to catch her breath, the young girl whispered: "Abby... I... I told 
you I couldn't. 

Abby, please... not here... not in front of Jill!" The woman laughed 
sharply, glancing at Jill. "Jill, you don't mind, do you?" She chuckled 
again. "As a matter of fact, Jill told me she'd enjoy sitting in on our 
little conversation... didn't you, Jill?" 

The other woman shifted a little under Abby's direct stare, and murmured; 
"Yes, Abby," and then, with her voice a little stronger, she added; "I don't 
mind at all... it should be very interesting." 

Sara's mind recoiled in confusion. She kept looking from Abby to Jill, and 
then back again. 

It couldn't be! What was happening! Jill was her best friend! And Abby! Abby 
had been so nice to her today! 

"I gather, then, that you don't have the money. Just exactly what do you 
plan to do about it?" Abby asked sarcastically. "Perhaps, rather than go 
through all this trivial bickering, I should just go straight to Winston and 
have him stop Bill's salary. 

I'm sure your husband would be more than happy to straighten out the whole 
matter!" 

"No!... No, Abby!... please" Sara broke into great wracking sobs. "Abby, you 
can't! 

please, you can't!... I'll do anything... anything! I'll find a way... 
somehow... to pay you back. I swear! I promise I'll do anything if you just 
won't hurt Bill!... " 

Jill was leaning forward, a satisfied smirk on her face as she watched the 
tormented young blonde grovel before the self-righteousness of Abby Baines. 

A sadistic mask of pleasure covered Abby's face as she moved toward Sara 
and, in a change of tone, soothingly continued: "There is a way, Sara." 

"Wha... what did you say. Oh, Abby... anything you want... " the girl cried 
hysterically. 

"What do you want me to do?" 

"Your Bill is no different than the husbands of the other girls in the 
bridge club. Away all the time, with no regard to the needs or wants of a 
mature woman. We've all had to put up with it... the lonely nights... the 
insatiable hunger for a man who's never there." 

Sara looked up, her face streaked with tear-stained mascara-she couldn't 
comprehend what Abby was saying... something about Bill being away... lonely 
nights. 

"... finally, we found a way," Abby continued, "Our husbands away, playing 
with every cheap tramp they could find on so-called business trips! Why not 
us? Why did we have to sit at home alone, dreading the loneliness of another 
empty night? Our husbands' business and social acquaintances had given us 
enough chances... enough lonely men to share our emptiness .. 

"You mean... you... all of you, meet these men and... " Sara's mind whirled 
as the full meaning of what Abby was saying penetrated her grief-enshrouded 
thoughts. "But... how does that... what do you want me to do?. 

"Sara, dear-I said we'd found a way. We satisfy these poor bastards-and 
ourselves too, But we don't do it for nothing! You've seen those men come in 
while we've been playing bridge and wait here in the den. You don't really 
think they were waiting for Winston, do you? And, several have asked for 
you. 

Sara remembered her curiosity at the flow of men, all prosperous and 
business-like, that had interrupted their games from time to time, had stood 
around, and then gone into the den-but she'd always been satisfied by Abby's 
explanation that they were only waiting for her husband. She'd even been 
flattered by their obvious attention to her... but she'd never even dreamed 
that... it couldn't be true! It was just a horrible joke that Abby was 
playing on her. She couldn't... she'd never be able to bring herself to. 

"Sara! Snap out of it! I want you to listen to me! You wanted a way out. I'm 
giving it to you! 

These men pay well, and whatever you make I'll deduct from your debt." 

Sara got up and walked slowly over to the bar... anything to stall... to 
give her time to think. Her hands were trembling as she added some ice to 
her glass and filled it to the top with vodka. 

Abby! and Jill! All of them! Prostitutes! She couldn't believe it! All this 
time she'd wanted so much to be accepted into their exclusive little social 
circle. It was exclusive all right! 

Abby walked over to join her at the bar and poured a glass of water. Sara 
flinched at the touch of the older woman's hand as she handed her a couple 
of small white pills, but Abby seemed not to notice. "Here, Dear, a couple 
of these aspirin will make you feel better." 

Jill watched the two of them from her chair and saw Sara swallow the pills 
without hesitation, as though she were in a trance. A voice in Jill's brain 
kept screaming to Sara; 'Don't take those pills!' but no sound came from her 
lips. In spite of her envy of the beautiful young girl some twinge of 
kindness inside her urged her to interfere, but Jill knew it would do no 
good. 

It was too late now with the debt and the pills already swallowed. 

Although Sara might not know it yet, Abby had her exactly where she wanted 
her-and whatever little resistance remained those pills would soon take care 
of. As Jill watched, it became increasingly clear how she, herself, had been 
ensnared by the heartless Abby Baines. The same strategy, the kindness, the 
ruthlessness, the liquor and the "aspirin"- and before Jill had really known 
what was happening she was too deeply involved to ever get out. And... Abby 
had taken photographs of the entire thing. 

Meanwhile, back at the bar, Abby's thoughts were very similar. She chuckled 
inwardly as she watched the tension seem to drain from the voluptuous young 
girl's tensed shoulders and knew her plan was working. Sara Donovan was 
hers, or soon would be-and the lovely young blonde was her greatest triumph 
yet. 

She stood there, admiring the flawless beauty of her latest acquisition, 
like a triumphant white hunter posing above the fallen form of a majestic 
lioness-or even more so, like a hovering spectre with a net, gloating over 
the capture of a rare and delicate butterfly. But, even then, the pleasure 
of her conquest was marred by her intense hatred for anyone as beautiful as 
Sara Donovan. She had once been as lovely as the younger girl, had known the 
reverent admiration of every man who saw her, but the passing years had 
erased this-leaving only a cold, faded shell-an old and cracked canvas that 
was once a magnificent painting. Her hatred for Time and its destruction was 
fanned into fiercely burning flames each time she was reminded of her past 
beauty by a young and lovely girl. 

And this hatred was matched only by the loathing she felt for every man who 
no longer wanted her-but desired what she had been. 

The only thing that made Abby Baines happy was this extraordinarily 
successful ring of prostitution she, she and Dr. MacMasters, had brought 
into being. She felt immense satisfaction in her power over the younger 
women, the ability to force them to obey her sadistic desires-and the men, 
the poor stupid men, who had to come to her for what they wanted. She felt 
like a great Puppet Master, pulling the strings and watching the little 
figures dance spasmodically to her bidding. 

While the older woman had stood there at the bar, reveling in her success, 
Sara had walked un- steadily back to the couch. She no longer felt any 
awareness of what was happening to her, only a great lassitude that had 
slowly spread through her body... A soft, mist-like trance that deadened her 
troubled senses and made her feel warm and languorously sensual. There were 
no thoughts of right or wrong, only the tender sensitivity of her skin as 
she stretched half-sitting on the couch and felt the roughness of the 
upholstery against the backs of her legs. 

She was only vaguely aware of the other two people in the room, and though 
she knew Abby had just spoken to her she couldn't assimilate the words and 
felt no desire to answer. 

She thought she heard Abby leave the room, and then return, but she wasn't 
sure. Time had no meaning... neither did the soft opening and closing of the 
door. Then it seemed as if there were other voices in the room, deeper 
voices... but the didn't matter-all that mattered was the caressing touch of 
the rough, jacquelard cloth against her skin... her thighs... and... a 
strange sensuous flicker that rippled momentarily through her belly. 

The four of them stood watching quietly. Abby, Jill and the two men. The 
late afternoon sun streaming through the partially closed drapes cast thick 
shafts of light across the outstretched form on the couch. 

Winston Baines and the other man, also in his fifties, stared intently at 
the young girl, watching her long shapely legs extend slowly and draw back 
as she ground them against the surface of the huge couch. As she pulled one 
leg up and then the other, her light summer dress slid further back, 
revealing the sleek goldeness of her curved thighs. 

Jill Adams just stood drinking slowly, but Abby watched her husband and the 
other man with a contemptuous smile. Those animals! They'd have their fun, 
and so would she! 

She'd watch them rutting like wild stags-her husband the worst of them all. 
Winston. 

Hah!, that worthless runt! She'd married him for his money... and she'd get 
it. All of it! 

When she left him he wouldn't have a dime, and then we'll see who laughs. 
That bastard! 

Winston Baines had come home unexpectedly one afternoon and found one of the 
girls entertaining a client and Abby watching. It hadn't taken him long to 
get the truth out of her, using his strength to wring it painfully from her. 
But, instead of stopping her, or ruining her operation, he had made her 
continue-considering it his right to sample any of the girls whenever he 
felt like it. As a matter of fact, he'd even increased her business by 
bringing her more and more men. She laughed. I wonder how he explains to his 
new-found associates that his wife is running a clandestine house of 
pleasure. Soon, however, she'd get her revenge. Her business was proving to 
be extremely profitable, and with that money and what she got when she 
cleaned Winston out would be enough to keep her in luxury and entertainment 
for the rest of her life. 

She thought of Sara, and how excited Winston had been when she had told him 
that today was the day he could finally throw it to her almost virginal 
young body. That fat little son of a bitch had almost drooled! 

She walked over to the bar to pour herself a cognac, and as she looked back 
into the room, she decided it was time to provide a little entertainment. 
Her husband and that Joe-whatever-his-name-was might as well get their 
money's worth. 

"Jill, Darling... why don't you make yourself a little more comfortable? And 
do the same for Sara. Winston, you and Joe have a seat, while I warm up the 
camera." 

Jill led the other man to one of the velvet armchairs and, as Abby turned 
the music up, began a slow and almost Tahitian dance before him. Winston, in 
the other chair tore his eyes from the reclining, half-conscious form of 
Sara to watch the sensual movements of the tall, slender brunette. 

If Jill hated Abby intensely, it didn't show in her work. She loved men, all 
men-and being trapped into working for Abby Baines provided her with enough 
men to satisfy her insatiable desires. She was a statuesque, beautifully 
shaped girl with shoulder length ebony hair, and she moved with the animal 
grace of a stalking black panther. 

As she danced, her hands slowly unfastened the silk blouse tied beneath her 
full breasts. 

Untied, there were only two buttons remaining, and her deft fingers quickly 
released these. 

She tossed the blouse from her and without slowing unhooked the black 
brassiere that cupped her breasts, and it too landed somewhere behind her. 
Now, her curved fingers replaced her bra and as her hips swung in gentle 
undulations, her hands cupped and lifted her breasts-caressing them 
sensuously as she worked herself into a slow state of excitement. 

Her hands dropped to the zipper at the side of her Spanish-type slacks, skin 
tight to the calves and then flaring out to wide bell bottoms-slit ac the 
ankles and embroidered in gold down the side. She danced lasciviously in 
front of the lust-stricken men, her black hair swirling in great sweeping 
arcs and then she slowly knelt to her knees in front of Joe. His eyes glazed 
over with passion as she leaned backward, arms outflung, her back arched as 
her full, creamy white breasts pointed firmly upward. 

Then she slid softly toward him, bringing her feet up to rest on the edge of 
his chair. She lay back, purring to him to help her remove her slacks. His 
hands trembling, he reached downward and pulled them toward him. They 
slithered past the black triangle of tiny black bikini panties and up the 
full curves of her straining legs. 

He wanted to keep her there, but with her legs free of the tight slacks she 
curled to her feet like a rising cobra, swaying before him. She moved, 
pausing to kiss Winston briefly, to the couch and knelt again beside Sara. 

Sara had been lying there, as if in a wild erotic dream, hearing the strange 
rhythmic music and running her sharp fingertips up and down the softness of 
her thighs. Now, in the warming glow of the drug, she felt other hands on 
her, removing her shoes and sliding lightly up the sensitive skin of her 
legs. 

Everyone's eyes were focused intently on the two of them. One girl dark and 
exotic and the other, a blend of fight and golden innocence. 

Jill's hands moved slowly up her body, across the flare of her hips and up 
to the row of buttons at the neck of her dress. Sara barely felt them, 
though she could feel the soft, caressing movement downward as her dress 
opened. Jill paused to undo the belt and then completely unbuttoned the 
light summer dress. She reached to pull it from Sara's shoulders and felt 
the semi-conscious girl raise her shoulders to help her. Finally, after 
moments of gentle tugging she had the dress over the girl's arched hips and 
in one movement pulled it from her legs and tossed it behind the couch. 

The two men were mesmerized by the breathtaking loveliness of the young 
blonde as she lay clothed only in a flimsy lace set of white silk underwear. 
Her sleek, firm body was an entrancing combination of reversing golden 
curved lines... rising and arching contours of her swelling breasts and 
thighs... and then falling into the gentle concavity of her soft, white 
belly. 

Jill's, probing fingers unfastened the hook beneath Sara's back and pulled 
the bra from her straining breasts. Released from their silken confinement, 
they seemed to swell and the erectile rubiness of her nipples tensed in the 
sudden rush of cool air. 

Her hips raised to allow Jill to pull her panties from the full curve of her 
buttocks, and the men felt a sudden tightness constrict their throats as the 
voluptuous body of the young girl lay completely naked and helpless before 
them. 

And suddenly, the man who had come with Abby's husband couldn't stand it any 
longer, and lurched forward from his chair, reaching for Jill. She came to 
him, easily pushing him back onto the floor, her hands tugging at his tie. 

Abby, completely unnoticed in the background, watched in contempt as her 
husband struggled with his clothing. She laughed harshly at the awkward, 
clumsy little man. The camera she held in her hand clicked several times at 
the half-conscious form on the couch. 

Frantic in his lust, Winston Baines was hopping from one foot to the other, 
trying to pull off his trousers. Finally, kicking them off his feet, he tore 
at his shirt and tie. 

Sara squirmed on the couch, her erotic dream reaching for the gentle, 
caressing hands that had been touching her... the heat was building up in 
her drug-awakened body and her mind begged for the return of the soft 
mysterious fingers that had aroused her. 

Then suddenly, through a haze of narcosis and desire, she felt someone 
grabbing at her, pawing animal-like at her tender flesh. Her eyes flickered 
open from the sudden pain and hurt and a moments consciousness returned to 
her drug dimmed mind. She strained her eyes to bring the shadowy form 
hovering over her into focus. 

And then she saw! 

It was Mr. Baines, Abby's husband and her own husband's boss! He was 
completely naked and a lust-crazed glint filled his eyes as they roamed down 
over her nude and helpless form. She jerked from the sudden obscene 
revelation of the hopeless position she was in but his hands held her tight 
to the couch, brutally twisting and pressing the soft flesh of her thighs 
and breasts. Her arms and legs flailed wildly in the air trying to escape 
the sudden pain and unexpected humiliation of another man, a man who knew 
her husband, leering down at her naked body. She tried to cry out, but only 
soft, whimpering moans came from her lips. Weakened by the drugs and liquor, 
she had no strength and her hands were helpless against the lewd assault on 
her nudity. Her eyes flickered closed again, soft whimpering groans of 
helpless indignation rolling from her open mouth, wet hungry lips fastened 
to a hardened nipple. She groaned again, helpless against the tortuous 
agony, flashes of blue and red filling her head as it turned hopelessly from 
side to side on the arm of the couch. The camera clicked on. 

It wasn't real! Nothing was real! It just couldn't be happening! It was the 
devil doing those things to her, turning her churning body into the raging 
inferno it had become... Yes... it was the devil .. God, yes it was him! 

A wiry, naked body pressed roughly down on top of her, its knees pressing 
hers outward and wide apart. The dream enveloped her like a fiery blanket of 
lust and passion. The hurting of the hands began to slowly subside, 
gradually being replaced by the slow burning passion rising again in her 
belly. Leaping tongues of flame spread throughout her lusting body... a 
sliver of hardened flesh pressed against the soft down of moist golden pubic 
hair between her wide-spread legs... Oh God! It was a man... a man and she 
wanted him! Momentarily, one last rational thought wracked her brain, 
Please, Abby, No! 

Don't make me do it! Don't make me do it! 

And then, the volcano smouldering deep in her belly erupted! 

Whimpering moans of unleashed passion escaped her lips as she groped up 
desperately for the man's shoulders, trying frantically to pull him harder 
down on top of her. She kicked her legs out wide and drew her knees up tight 
against her own shoulders, eagerly arching her burning loins salaciously 
against the hardened cock lying now between the open crevice of her 
buttocks. She felt his hands stroking desperately against the soft inner 
flesh of her thighs, lewdly kneading the tender skin, until they reached the 
curve of her soft hair covered vagina. She spread her legs even further 
apart-to make it easier for him-she wanted to feel his fingers deep inside 
her. 

Gone was the gentleness of Jill's hands-the man who had replaced her was 
handling her brutally and sadistically,-but this seemed to incite her 
passion even more. She wanted to be devoured by the clawing fingers, the 
rough beard that was tearing at the sensitive skin on her belly and breasts. 

She cried out for him to come to her, to put his fingers in her. 
"Aaaahhhhhhh! yes!... Hold me!... Hurt me!" 

And suddenly, without tenderness, he plunged his fingers into her hot, 
moistened pussy! 

He would have hurt her terribly if she hadn't been so completely slippery 
inside with drug induced passion. And then, as quickly as he had probed so 
roughly into her, he withdrew his fingers. He had no thoughts of arousing or 
caressing her, he only wanted to know that she was ready for him. 

The soft suction sound of his withdrawing fingers was drowned by their 
heaving, panting breath- even her pleading moan for him to stay there. Her 
desire and the pills had made a raving, sexual maniac out of her and when 
she felt him start to pull away her sharp, curved nails left great raw 
scratches down his shoulders and back. 

But he wasn't leaving her. She felt him shift his weight... and then the 
stabbing pain as he plunged his eager, swollen cock hard between the opened 
lips of her hot, pulsating cunt. 

"... Aaaarrgghhhh! More!... more!" This was what she had been waiting for! 
She wanted to feel him fill every aching pore of her body. "Deeper!... put 
it in deeper, my darling... Fill me with it!" Where was he? Why couldn't she 
feel any more of him? Where was he! Oh my God! He isn't big enough! "Please, 
deeper!... Deeper!" 

"Oh Daddy, Fuck deeper, Fuck deeper!" She screamed at him in desperation. He 
grabbed her buttocks with his hands and drove his cock to the hilt. 

It was too short! 

She groaned in frustration, and as Abby snapped another picture, Sara 
splaying her legs as wide as possible to give him better access. But it 
didn't help! 

As if in apology, the sweating little man rammed his tongue deep into her 
wide-open mouth. She sucked at it in wild frenzy, her body caught up in a 
whirlpool of raw passion she had never known before. He jerked and thrusted 
into her mercilessly bringing gasps of pain and frustration as he thudded 
into her arching hips. She moaned helplessly, he was bringing her to a 
climactic peak with the brutal pounding of his body alone. 

Then-suddenly as she writhed uncontrollably beneath him, he came. And she 
could feel him stiffen as he spurted jet after jet of his white-hot sperm 
deep up into the hidden recesses of her tortured womb. 

She cried out in frustration. 

It was too soon, too soon! 

She had been almost there! She strained crazily for it, but the man's dead 
weight collapsed heavily across her still driving body. His useless, 
deflated penis hung limply between her churning thighs. 

She buffeted her wet pelvis up against him angrily, tears of frustration 
running down her passion inflamed cheeks. But the softness of him gave away 
limply before her last anguished upward thrusts. He rolled from her body, 
breathing heavily in satiation. 

The roaring fire continued to rage on in her body. Oh God! she sobbed, the 
hunger coursing through her like a narcotic. I'm going crazy, crazy! I need 
it! I need it! 

Sara lay there moaning aloud, and finally her cries caught the attention of 
Abby and Jill. 

Abby had been standing by the bar all this time watching the erotic 
happenings in the room, watching Jill excite Joe almost beyond belief before 
she finally let him have her. It had taken only moments before he had let 
out a heaving, gasping sigh and rolled over and collapsed on the floor 
beside the tall sensual brunette. But Abby had been most amused by the 
pitiful efforts of her husband trying to satiate the drug-hungering lust of 
the young, voluptuous Sara. She knew well the effects of the drug that Dr. 
MacMasters had created and she didn't believe there was one man in the world 
who, alone, could satisfy the wanton desires of a woman who had taken it... 
especially in the quantity she had given Sara. 

Winston had slid from the couch onto the floor and still sat in an exhausted 
stupor, but Joe was beginning to revive and Abby could see between his legs 
the effect that Sara's cries were having on him. 

The tortured young blonde still lay writhing uncontrollably on the couch, 
her pleas for satisfaction echoing hoarsely in the room. Her own hands 
probed ineffectually between her open legs. 

As her cries increasingly excited Joe, Abby could see that he was 
considerably more endowed than her husband, as huge as any man she had ever 
seen. She called out to him softly, a lascivious grin on her face. "Joe, do 
you think there's any way you would be able to help the hot little bitch?" 

He smiled lewdly in assent, nodding as his eyes roamed over the straining 
voluptuousness of the girl on the couch as Abby readied the camera again. 

"Jill, help Joe move Sara onto the floor where there's more room. I'm sure 
the two of you together will be able to make her feel better." 

Jill hesitated at Abby's words. Although there had been many strange 
requests since she had begun working for the older woman-she had even become 
used to making love to several men one after another before an 
audience-Abby's command for her to go to Sara made her uneasy. "Come, Jill. 
Joe may need your help." 

Sara's pain, the ache of unfulfilled desire, was driving her almost insane 
when suddenly she felt the touch of someone's hands, lifting her... holding 
her. 

"Oh yes... yes... please hurry! I need it... please... Now! 

The two of them laid her gently on the thick carpet, spreading her arms and 
legs. For Joe, there was no need for hesitation, and without waiting he 
plunged the long thickness of his throbbing cock deep into her waiting cunt. 

"Aaaaahhhhhhhhhh! That's it, harder... please, Harder!... aaaahhhhhhhh!" 

Jill lay beside the two of them, caressing the swollen nipples of the girl's 
heaving breasts. 

Then, with one hand she reached between Joe's legs to grasp the hot 
slipperiness of his plunging penis. The heat and thickness of it as it 
pounded furiously in and out of the young girl's cunt aroused a welling of 
flaming desire in the brunettes loins, and she began to run her finger in 
alongside the driving shaft of flesh... feeling it slide hotly back and 
forth against the length of her probing finger. 

Sara's punished body was lifting and jerking completely out of control now 
and her cries of ecstatic pleasure were coming in great explosive gasps. 

"Oh yes! Oh Yes! Uuuuhhhhhh! Oh... yes... yessssss... " 

Jill carefully moved her hand around until she was able to withdraw her 
finger and put her thumb in its place; then with her free forefinger she 
began to edge her way down between the crease of Sara's buttocks until she 
felt the tiny raised circle of her anus. The girl's hips squirmed wildly at 
the touch of Jill's finger, as if afraid of what she was going to do. 

Very gently, Jill began to slowly insert the tip of her finger into the 
tight opening... probing almost imperceptibly deeper and deeper into the 
velvet warmth of the tiny, rubbery orifice. 

Soon, through the thin wall of hot flesh separating Sara's cunt and rectum 
she was able to feel the urgent thrusting of Joe's cock driving against the 
pressing contact of her thumb . . 

. 

At the first touch of someone's finger delving into the tender softness of 
her anus, Sara had felt a scream building up in her throat... but it was 
being done so gently... so very gently, that instead of pain, she began to 
experience a strange erotic sensation of pleasure-increasing with the 
probing depth of the unknown finger into a forbidden center of her body. 

She could feel a driving cock deep... so deep inside her-and beneath the 
driving hugeness of him she felt something else... a feathery tickling... a 
turning pressure that ground against the finger in her anus... rubbing... 
gripping like a great hook that had trapped her... trapped her in the fiery 
center of her senses. 

She threw her legs high up over the man's shoulders plunging into her... 
flailing... trying to keep from falling... groping with her hands for his 
pistoning buttocks... she felt as if she were falling, tumbling end over end 
into a great dark shaft into the very depths of a swirling, hot hell. 

Blinding bursts of lights kept passing before her eyes as if she were 
spinning completely out of control... free-falling... with nothing to hold 
on to... no way to catch herself. It was so dark... so black... she couldn't 
see! And then, in the whirling darkness... a huge spinning tunnel going 
straight down... she saw a tiny pinprick of light coming closer... larger... 
Larger!... an opening! She was Free!. 

Sara screamed, again and again. Completely out of control, she came so 
violently-so wildly!... her body jerking and thrashing in furious, pulsating 
spasms... her hot breath coming in great heaving gasps. 

And then it was over. 

The heavy stillness in the room was interrupted only by the soft sighs and 
labored breathing of a young blonde girl who lay sprawled and unconscious, 
on the carpeted floor. 

Small trickles of sweat rolled from her still spread-eagled body as it lay 
obscenely as they had left it. A lewd chuckle resounded from the smirk-lined 
lips of the older women who stood glaring down at her battered form. 

"When I get through with her," she cackled gleefully, "she'll be able to 
satisfy half the town with that proud little pussy of hers-including her 
smart-ass husband once or twice a day. 

He might even get his rocks off from the pictures I've got of his sweet, 
innocent little wife in action." 

She laughed again and kneeling on the floor between Sara's limply spread 
legs snapped one final picture of her sperm covered crotch that gave mute 
testimony to the depraved ordeal the girl had just been subjected to. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Sara lay back huddled under the covers of her bed. The usually soft muslin 
sheets felt course against her skin. It had been several days since the 
horrible experience had taken place after the bridge club meeting and her 
nerves were still in a state of shock. Bill had come home from his business 
trip one day after that fateful afternoon and it had been all she could do 
to hold her emotions together and not give away the fact that she was on the 
point of a complete mental breakdown. But, she had held up as best she could 
and even performed her conjugal duties in bed with her husband as though 
nothing had happened. 

It had taken a great deal of self control and all the strength she could 
muster though to keep from screaming out in tortured remembrance each time 
his sperm had erupted inside her because even though she was tailing the 
pill she still had the horrible fear of becoming pregnant by Mr. Baines and 
the other man who planted their seed deep in her unwilling belly. She had 
been taking four or five showers a day since that time in a vain attempt to 
wash away the memory and perhaps cleanse her flesh of their lewd use of her 
body... but it had not worked. She still felt soiled and used and knew deep 
inside her that nothing would ever wash away the filth and disgust with 
which she viewed herself after allowing herself to get into the position 
where she had had no choice but be unfaithful to her husband. Thank God, 
Abby had only called once since that time and that had been a curt and cold 
conversation in which she had made it quite clear that she never intended 
under any circumstances to return to the bridge club or see Abby again for 
that matter. In a few days, after she had regained some of her composure, 
she would just explain the whole thing to Bill, at least the debt part, and 
ask him to leave the company. Certainly a bright young man like himself 
could get another job just as easily somewhere else. He would just have to. 
She could not under any circumstances face any of those women again. Not now 
after what she had done and after what most of them had done also. It just 
couldn't be. She had been shamed and humiliated enough as it was and nothing 
was worth going through all that again. Nothing, not even Bill finding out 
about her gambling debts. She knew that Abby would never dare tell him 
anything else and even if she did she would deny it. It would be her word 
against Abby's and the whole thing was so unbelievable and preposterous that 
she herself still had difficulty in realizing it had happened. So, how could 
anyone else, particularly Bill. He loved and trusted her as much as she did 
him and would certainly take her word over that of another woman. 

She had thought about many things in the last few days, suicide, telling 
Bill everything that had happened and a thousand other ridiculous things. 
But, none of them had made any sense. All of them would only have hurt Bill 
and she loved him too much to do that. This would have to be her own cross 
to bear alone and without any help from anyone. 

One thing did bother her and had kept eating at her mind since the phone 
call from Abby. 

Her parting words had been; "We'll see, my dear. We'll see," When Sara had 
told her off over the phone and had made it quite clear that she never 
wanted to see her again. 

Somehow it had kept running through her thoughts even though she had tried 
to dismiss it as just an idle threat. After all, there was nothing more she 
could do to her that she hadn't already done. 

Sara finally rose from the bed and walked out to the kitchen to prepare 
herself a cup of coffee. Bill, the darling, sensing that she wasn't feeling 
well hadn't bothered to awaken her when he had left for the office earlier 
that morning and now it was almost ten o'clock. She had to hurry and get 
dressed to make that beauty appointment she had arranged. The thought 
suddenly reminded her what day it was and then her face beamed in happiness. 

It was their second wedding anniversary! 

Bill had coyly hinted that they might have a celebration tonight but he 
hadn't said why. He had just reminded her yesterday to get herself all 
prettied up for a wild evening on the town, and then he had slyly added; 
"and in the sack." She smiled to herself and was halfway back to the bedroom 
with her cup of coffee in her hand when the shrill ring of the telephone 
interrupted her thoughts. 

"Oh Damn," she muttered half aloud. "I hope it isn't one of those sales 
pitches that have been making my life miserable lately." She and Bill had 
planned to have their listing removed from the new telephone directory to 
avoid this but somehow had forgotten it until it was too late and now they 
made her days miserable with their continuous calls throughout the whole 
day. 

"Hello, Donovan residence," she answered tiredly. 

"Hi, sweetheart," she heard Bill's voice on the other end of the line and 
the half-hearted frown immediately disappeared from her face. 

"Oh Darling, I'm so happy its you," she beamed from ear to ear. "I thought 
it was another of those telephone salesmen." 

"No, dear," he answered warmly. "Just wanted to put you on the alert. The 
bosses wife called and asked why you hadn't been at the bridge game 
yesterday and I told her you had been sick." 

Sara's hand froze to the phone. 

"Y-You mean Abby Baines?" she said, her voice almost a whisper. 

"Why yes, darling. You sound surprised. Is anything wrong?" 

Sara braced herself against the wall, clenching her eyes tightly shut in 
silent prayer. 

"N-No, nothings w-wrong," she lied. "W-What did she say?" 

"Oh, you know how nice she is, honey. She understood perfectly. In fact, 
when I told her it was our anniversary she said she was going to bring you 
over something special sometime this morning. I just called to make certain 
you hadn't overslept and would have time to freshen up a bit. She should be 
there any moment." 

Sara's mouth went dry at the revelation of Abby's impending visit and she 
could feel her head swirling in a near faint. 

"Sara!" Bill's voice said with concern when there was no answer from his 
wife. "Are you alright, darling?" 

"Y-Yes, dear. I'm alright." She forced herself to answer in spite of the 
weakness rippling through her body. "I-I'll be ready for her." 

"That's a good girl," Bill answered with a touch of relief in his voice. 
"Remember she's the bosses wife and we can't blow this chance we've got to 
really make it big. So be especially nice to her." 

"Bill. 

"Yes, darling." 

"Oh n-nothing. I-I'll see you tonight." 

She hung up the phone and staggered to the couch, her eyes flooded with 
tears of indecision and frustration. She wanted to say something to Bill, to 
tell him that she was in some awful trouble, but she couldn't. It just 
wasn't the time or place. 

Oh God, what could she do? What could she do? She sat on the couch for a 
moment, her face cupped tightly in her hands. Then she rose and walked 
swiftly to the kitchen. 

God, she needed a drink. 

She poured herself almost a full glass of vodka and splashed a dash of 
orange juice in it and drank it straight down. Then again. The soothing hot 
liquid burned all the way down to her empty stomach. She poured another full 
glass and returned to the living room. She had to sit down and think. Think 
about what she would say to Abby when she met her face to face. She had been 
able to muster the courage over the telephone to tell her off, but would she 
be able to do it in person. Abby was the kind that exuded strength. It was 
almost impossible to fight with her and win when she really wanted 
something. She had spent too many years bending the lives of other people 
not to be a master at it. Well, she would just have to show her courage and 
let her know right off the bat that she could not be bullied again. The 
alcohol was beginning to have its effect now and had soothed her tattered 
nerves sufficiently to build her confidence to the point where she thought 
she could do it. 

She downed the remaining drink in her glass and started for the kitchen to 
refill it when her feet suddenly froze to the floor. 

The front doorbell was ringing! 

She did not move. It rang again. She reflexively pulled her dressing gown 
over her nakedness and walked trance-like to the door. She opened it 
hesitantly and outside stood Abby. 

"Well, aren't you going to invite me in, dear," she smiled when she saw the 
resistance in Sara's eyes. 

"Y-Yes, but just for a moment. I-I have a lot to do." 

"Yes, dear, you have a lot more to do today than you realize," Abby said 
coldly as she pushed herself by Sara and entered the living room. "Yes, my 
dear, a lot more than you realize. I had two men lined up for you yesterday 
afternoon and they were willing to spend a great deal. Your little pride has 
cost me a good sum of money and I intend to see that you make it up." 

"W-What do you mean?" Sara answered, the anger rising in her voice. She had 
recovered slightly from the initial shock of seeing Abby again and the 
drinks had restored a little of her courage. "How dare you come into my home 
and say things like that to me. I don't care if your husband is Bill's boss. 
We can go somewhere else and live without your help." 

Abby eyed her coldly for a moment from the couch where she had sat down and 
then spoke, her words cruel and unyielding. 

"Listen you proud little bitch. You still owe me a lot of money. I've 
deducted fifty dollars for your masterful little performance the other 
afternoon but there is still a healthy balance remaining and I'm going to 
see you work it off or else. And... you can't tell me you didn't enjoy that 
little fucking they gave you. Here take a look." 

With that Abby reached into her purse and drew out a large packet of black 
and white photographs and threw them to the floor in front of the still 
standing young wife. 

"Now look at those and tell me you didn't get your rocks off!" 

The distraught Sara stood riveted to the spot, she could not move and a cold 
fear of what she was about to see rippled through her trembling body. 

"Get down on your knees and take a look!" 

Abby commanded, a sneer replacing the icy tone in her voice. "Get down I 
said!" 

Sara dropped to the floor. She had to know what this madwoman was raving 
about. Her trembling hands reached out and turned over the first photograph 
which was lying face down with the others. 

Her heart jumped to her throat! 

There right before her eyes was a large eight by ten inch picture of her 
lying on her back with a man between her widely spread legs. Her calves were 
locked in a death grip high up around his back and his great pole of flesh 
was sunk deep inside her plainly visible vagina. And her face... her face 
was a raging mask of carnal desire that showed without a doubt she was 
enjoying the lewd coupling with all her heart and soul. 

"Oh God, Nooooo," she moaned, sinking limply to the rug. Great gushes of 
tears streamed from her eyes. It couldn't be true! It just couldn't be true! 

"One would never know by looking at you that Bill Donovan's proud, innocent 
wife was such a hot little screw," she heard Abby cackle from the couch. Her 
voice seemed unreal and miles away. "Now go on and look at the others. They 
get even better." 

Sara dazedly shuffled through them. Her sudden state of shock rendered her 
unable to think or act for herself and with each further picture passing 
before her dazed face the shock grew greater. 

They were horrible. 

She had never envisioned herself like that. A raging madwoman in a wild 
sexual frenzy who was almost tearing the men apart. And there was Jill there 
also doing those depraved despicable things to her. One photograph clearly 
showed her finger sunk far up Sara's rectum while the man, whoever he was, 
was plunging his giant fleshy cock into her like an animal. And... her face. 
Her face again was like nothing she had ever seen before. God, how had she 
enjoyed them doing all those despicable things to her? She had remembered so 
little of it later but now she saw it as it had really happened and the 
shame and humiliation of her reaction to it, even though she knew she had 
been drugged, brought further gushes of tears from her eyes. 

Oh God, if Bill ever saw these he would never understand in a million years. 

"Now, deary, do we understand each other?" Abby's sneering voice drifted 
across the distance. "You're nothing but a dirty little whore like the rest 
of them now! What would your trusting young husband think of that?" 

"You wouldn't dare," Sara suddenly blurted out in horror at what Abby had 
intimated. "H-He would kill you!" 

"You mean kill you don't you, dear?" Abby laughed aloud. "Those dirty 
pictures speak for themselves." 

"He would never believe them," she hissed back. "He knows me better than 
that." 

"Want to bet, dear?" Abby teased. And... Sara knew deep down in her heart 
that she was right. How could they be interpreted any other way than the way 
they were. It was plain and simple: she was getting fucked half to death and 
loving every minute of it and no one in their right mind could believe 
anything else. She hated the thought of the filthy word but there was no 
doubt about it, she was getting fucked and good too. No one could ever 
mistake that. Also... no one, even Bill, would believe these ostensibly 
respectable people would have drugged her into committing an act so obscene 
and depraved, particularly if she complained now almost a week since it had 
happened. There was just no hope... no hope at all. Abby had her and she 
knew it and the only out now was to do as she said until something else came 
up. Some kind of miracle that would extricate her from this awful mess. 

"Now are you ready to get to work and pay off that debt you owe me?" Abby's 
voice again interrupted her tortured thoughts and she found her nodding in 
an unconscious daze, her eyes still tightly glued to the unbelievable 
pictures. She could not bear to look up at her face and the victorious smirk 
she knew would be there. All she could do was shake her head in assent and 
hope that what she demanded of her to pay back the money she owed would be 
bearable and leave her just a little of her pride. She had no other choice. 
If it were just her she would not hesitate to resist, but there was Bill She 
just couldn't hurt him this way, not after the way he worshiped and trusted 
her. She just couldn't. 

"That's a good little girl," the older woman said with a dry smile of 
satisfaction lining her lips. "You're going to get your chance to prove your 
sincerity right now." 

"W-What do y-you mean." Sara recoiled in horror from her statement. She had 
not expected this and not even had the chance to prepare herself mentally 
for the horrible things she was going to have to do to get out of this 
terrible mess she had gotten herself in. 

"Just what I said, dear. I've got two customers waiting out in the car right 
now that have just been aching to get at that young innocent body of yours." 

"Y-You mean they know me?" her voice quivered in revulsion. 

"Certainly. They work for Bill at the company and have been watching that 
swishing little ass of yours tease them for months. They can hardly wait." 

"No, No, I can't with someone that knows Bill! I-I just can't!" 

"You'll do it, honey," she threatened menacingly. "Otherwise- I'll see he 
has a fresh copy of those photos on his desk this afternoon. How would that 
start off the anniversary celebration?" 

"Oh Abby, NO! Not now, not today. Its too sacred a thing. I-I just can't on 
a day like this. 

Please wait a few days anyway," she pleaded for time. 

"Go tell it to your preacher," the older woman spat coldly. "I've got my 
money to worry about. Now go make yourself a drink and take these pills. 
They're Dr. McMasters and they'll put a little fire in your pussy. I think 
you're going to need it with that puritanical attitude you're carrying 
around." 

Sara dropped her face into her hands and sobbed convulsively at the grim 
realization that Abby was determined to show her no mercy and would destroy 
her if necessary to collect the money she owed her. 

"Alright, I'll do it for you, you sniveling little female. You can sit there 
and gamble on someone else's money all afternoon but when the time comes to 
pay the piper you lose your bravado." With this Abby disappeared into the 
kitchen and returned a few moments later with another vodka and orange 
juice. She stood over Sara's sobbing form contemptuously for a second and 
then thrust the glass down at her. 

"Here, drink it. I've put the pills in it to make it easier for you this 
time but you had better get used to the idea of doing it on your own in the 
future!" 

Sara groaned and lifelessly raised the glass to her lips as she saw Abby 
walk to the door and motion outside to the car parked in front of the house. 
There was no more fight left in her and all she hoped now was that the pills 
would do their evil work fast and transport her into the oblivion of not 
caring just as they had done last time. Otherwise... otherwise... she could 
just not go through with it... even for the love of Bill. 

There was the sound of lewd, intimate laughter at the doorway and Abby was 
followed back into the living room by two men, both of which wore obscene 
grins of expectation on their faces. Sara's body jerked as she recognized 
them. One of them was a fat ruddy-faced salesman who Bill had been promoted 
over. She had been aware of his lewd appraising glances whenever he would be 
around her. In fact, he had even propositioned her in an ill-concealed 
manner at one of the company cocktail parties and she had been tempted to 
tell Bill about it but decided not to cause anymore friction than was 
necessary in his department. The other one was a shipping clerk, a huge 
strapping man, who worked on the outgoing orders in Bill's sales department. 
She remembered him only slightly as the man who had whistled cockily at her 
walk one day when she had gone down to tour the plant. She was frightened of 
both of them and prayed for the pill to work before they became too lewd 
with her helpless body. She couldn't stand to have them touch her if she was 
fully conscious and aware of what was going on. 

"Whewwwww man, look at that!" the ruddy faced salesman suddenly whistled as 
he saw Sara sitting on the floor. She jumped from the sudden outcry and 
pulled her dressing gown up around her throat. She had forgotten she was 
half undressed and that the front had fallen open exposing half her 
nakedness to their searching eyes. 

"Man, I always knew there was something worth fuckin' under those tightass 
dresses she's been running around in. No wonder Donovan comes to work so 
beat looking in the morning. I would too if I had a cute little piece o' 
tail like that at home." 

Sara flushed at their lewd remarks and felt the anger rising in her at the 
callous mention of her husband like that. These men were nothing but filthy 
animals and so was Abby! She couldn't let them take her without a fight even 
though she knew she didn't stand much of a chance against their strength. 

"Don't you dare touch me, any of you!" she suddenly hissed as she leaped to 
her feet. "I'm going to call my husband and he'll have all of you thrown in 
jail!" 

"Baby, I wouldn't get so uppity if I were you. We seen those pictures and it 
looks like you really love a little strange cock now and then." Jack, the 
other man, leered at her. 

"Yeh," the ruddy face man added. "And I bet smart ass Donovan don't even 
know about it." 

Sara's eyes turned unbelieving to the smiling Abby who was enjoying her 
shame and humiliation more than anything she had enjoyed in a long time. 

"Y-You didn't show them those filthy pictures?" 

"Of course I did, dear," she smiled straight into her eyes, a look of 
triumph glistening in them. "The boys needed something to get them worked up 
a little before they actually sampled the merchandise." 

"Well you can all get out, right now." She almost screamed at the top of her 
voice. "I'm not going to do it! I don't care what you do!" 

But, with a movement that took her totally by surprise, Sam, the ruddy faced 
man caught her hand and twisted her arm behind her back so that she 
helplessly twisted around and fell back against him. Her soft silk gown fell 
open, and even with the pain and hurt racing through her arm, she was aware 
of the other man's eyes gazing hungrily at her naked breasts which protruded 
full and white out into his view. He moved a little around in front of her 
so that he could see the full rounded, naked front of her exposed body. 

"You don't think we're gonna let a chance like this get away from us, do you 
chicken? We been waitin' a long time for you to get your proud little wings 
clipped." 

Sara's immediate reaction was to cry out and scream but the man holding her 
anticipated her action and clamped his hand tightly over her lips. 

His fingers slipped into her mouth and she bit at them with all her strength 
in one final desperate act of resistance. He swore loudly and threw her to 
the rug. The same soft sheepskin rug that she and Bill made love on so 
often. Tears gushed helplessly from her eyes at the horrible obscene thought 
of other men having her here where she and her husband had shared such 
tender and intimate moments in the long evenings before this nightmare had 
begun. 

Jack, the man who had been leering at her breasts, reached down and 
laughingly, without effort, ripped her dressing gown off her. She tried to 
cover her nakedness with her hands but then the breath was knocked out of 
her by Sam's foot pressing hard down into her stomach with such force that 
for a moment she felt nothing. 

"OK, bitch, you asked for it," he snarled down at her. "When we get through 
reaming that little pussy of yours that sniveling husband of yours is going 
to fall in it the next time he wants a piece o' ass." 

He stepped back after a moment and motioned for Jack to let her go. Her body 
lay stretched before them, slim and voluptuous, her full rounded breasts 
protruding proudly up into the air, heaving from the effort to regain her 
breath. She was dazed and there was an angry red welt where the sole of his 
shoe had dug into the softness of her flesh. Sam, his already ruddy skin 
growing more flushed by the second from the excitement of having his company 
rivals luscious young wife lying helpless and naked on the floor before him, 
felt his penis bulging tight inside his trousers, a heavy weight had moved 
deep down in his loins. 

Sara lay groaning on the softness of the rug, her arm thrown across her eyes 
to ward off the sight of her cruel tormentors. She had never felt so 
helpless and used in her life and knew that she could never as long as she 
lived sink to any lower depths of degradation than she felt now. It was just 
horrible lying naked before the leering eyes of the two men who knew her 
husband so well and who forever after when they passed him would smirk at 
her submission to them. 

I've fucked your wife, you poor son-of-bitch, they would smugly think to 
themselves and the thought sickened her. 

"Come on, Abby, give us a show." She heard one of them say through the haze 
of her shame and humiliation. "Get her hot for us." 

"She'll be hot enough in a minute. Don't you worry. I've given her 
something." 

Oh my God, Sara groaned aloud as she remembered drinking, in her former 
desperation, the drink with the pills in it. I can't let it make me like 
last time! I can't give these horrible men the satisfaction of making me 
scream and beg for it. I've got to fight it for Bill's sake. 

I've GOT to fight it!! 

"Aw come on, Abby. Just feel her a little bit and get her stirred up. You've 
done it before." 

"Alright, alright," Abby chortled softly and secretly anxious herself to 
participate in the depraved debauchment. "But its going to cost you another 
ten for this little exhibition. I don't come cheap." 

"Sold," Sam grinned, still nursing his hand where Sara had bitten him. "I 
wanna see this little bitch get it every way possible before we get outta 
here." 

Lying naked and feeling more vulnerable and shamed than she'd ever felt 
before, Sara didn't even try to stop the tears rolling from her face. Her 
body was trembling and her breasts and loins felt hot and moist with a 
strange mixture of emotions. She involuntarily jerked as she felt the first 
tiny warning of the drug taking effect ripple gently through her belly. She 
could feel the hot stares of the men who had settled down on the couch as 
their eyes peered down between her legs at the soft, blonde pubic hair 
sparsely covering the mound of her cunt. Her eyes were closed tightly but 
she knew that Abby was standing over her fully clothed and preparing to do 
things to her. Horrible, lewd things that normal people only talked about in 
whispers. She felt trapped and helpless like a small bird caught in the 
clutches of a voracious, wild cat and all she could do was he there 
defenseless and lost and be devoured to satiate its craving hunger. 

"Open your legs, dear," she heard Abby croon evilly down at her. "The boys 
want to see how tight that sweet innocent little pussy looks." 

Sara lay rigid, afraid to move and yet also afraid not to follow the obscene 
commands of the woman who had now kneeled down over her. And the next moment 
she cried out and tried to jerk away as the sharpness of her nails pinched 
at the tender soft flesh of her pubic mound. 

"Aaaaaaaagh!" She moaned and let her legs slip slightly apart. 

"Wider, they can't see it all," Abby commanded again and losing patience, 
grabbed her ankles and pushed them wide apart. Another hopeless cry of 
protest erupted from between Sara's tightly clenched lips as her legs opened 
wide, exposing the pink, moist flesh between the soft, hairlined lips of her 
cunt. 

She could hear in the distance from the couch the soft gasps of appreciation 
slipping from the lips of the lewdly watching men and then her body jerked 
again as she felt the warm soft fingers of the woman brush gently at the 
small tender ridges on either side of her open vagina. They played there for 
a moment, teasingly pressing the lips together so that the smooth, soft 
flesh folded sensuously around her clitoris, bringing it to a quivering 
involuntary erection. Then, with a fanning motion of the fingers she 
stretched them wide apart, exposing in all its vulnerability the pink, oval 
hole of her cunt nestled temptingly down between her open thighs. 

"She can feel it, she can feel it, did you see her jump?" the older woman 
breathed gleefully over at the men. 

"Yeh, but she needs a lot more," the ruddy faced Sam snarled. "We want her 
ready to fuck a donkey when we give it to her." 

The teasing fingers continued their kneading and stretching at the soft, 
sensitive opening of her loins and Sara tried to force herself to lie still 
and take it. The sooner it was over the better and it would be over sooner 
if she didn't prolong it by trying to resist. 

Maddeningly, the fingers insinuated themselves, hurting her there at first 
so she groaned softly and clenched her teeth tighter together. And then... 
they were probing around inside her, the thumb teasing against her clitoris 
while the other hand moved down under the soft white moons of her buttocks 
pushing them up towards the gently thrusting fingers. 

Beneath her, Sara gritted her teeth and tried to stifle the low soft moan 
that seemed to have its beginning deep, deep in her belly. 

"Doesn't that feel good, my little darling," Abby crooned softly above her. 
"Wouldn't you like it to be a hard throbbing cock inside you like this with 
a man's hands, a big man's hands cupping your ass and pulling you up tight 
against him like this." 

The two men had risen from the couch now and were kneeling around her, their 
eyes bulging in undisguised lust at the obscene fondling of the young wife's 
body by the older woman. Sara, who had closed her eyes again to shut out the 
sight of Abby's almost fiendishly contorted face, opened them again her mind 
recoiling again in horror at the lewd grins of desire lining their lips. 

The fingers were smoothing around inside her and she closed her eyes to shut 
out the sight of their leering faces. Her cheeks were flushed and her body 
burned all over. She had never known such shame and humiliation before in 
her life and she knew she would carry this degraded feeling with her all the 
rest of her life. She would never be able to forget it as long as she 
lived... but in spite of her resolution to fight it and the shame burning 
lasciviously through her mind she felt a moistness growing down between her 
legs. Her vagina was involuntarily throbbing open and she could feel the 
searching fingers slipping wetly around inside against the smooth fleshy 
walls. 

"Mmmmmm, she's tight. You'll like that around your cocks," the woman working 
above her whispered in a half-tone to the gasping men. 

"Bet Donovan didn't know what a hot little bitch his wife really was," one 
of the men breathed excitedly, not taking his eyes from the heat of her 
loins. "Man, look at her squirm." 

"Yes, I can feel her getting ready," Abby whispered again across to them. "I 
told you she'd be a good screw." 

And with that she thrust her fingers, several of them, deep up inside the 
tight ring of flesh between Sara's thighs bringing a small whimpering cry 
from her lips. Her buttocks tried to squirm away but the determined woman 
pushed them up again with the hand cupped beneath them and ground the 
probing hand deeper. 

Sara's mouth dropped open emitting another helpless low groan. The tiny 
licking flames that had started as an infinitely small spark in her belly 
licked more lewdly inside her now. 

Her mind had blanked and a sudden perverse thrill began coursing through her 
body at the obscene treatment she was being subjected to in front of the 
gaping men. Her very helplessness and the lewd shame of what was being done 
to her intensified the unwanted feeling. The fingers smoothing around inside 
her had begun a slow definite rhythmic thrust now and she had to fight with 
all her strength the sudden urge to squirm up against them, to draw them all 
the way up inside her suddenly ravenous vagina. 

"God, look at that little pussy nibble," the ruddy faced Sam gasped, his 
eyes locked tightly to the stretched hair-lined lips surrounding the 
thrusting fingers. "Man, I'm gonna split that so wide she's gonna scream 
like a stuck pig." 

The lewd words of her tormentors drifting to her in unreal syllables of 
sound only made her want to wallow in the sudden degrading well of shame 
that much more. Why not! Why not! 

raced through her tortured mind. Maybe they're right! Maybe they're right 
that I'm nothing but a HOT little bitch! I LOVED it being done to me before! 
I LOVED IT! GOD, I LOVED IT! 

The horrible degrading admission tumbled through her dazed brain like a 
whirlwind and with unrestrained horror at its bitter truth, she tensed her 
buttocks tightly together and tried once more to control the fires rebelling 
against her mind. 

But then it was too late! 

Feeling a sudden spasm of shame and thrill, mixed lewdly together at her 
hopeless plight before those devouring eyes, her buttocks began to 
involuntarily strain together on the kneading hand cupped beneath them. Her 
thighs began to slither up and away from her wet and open vagina until she 
lay back crab-like on the softness of the rug, legs drawn up and the whole 
of her crotch exposed to the delving female hand and the eyes of the men 
excitedly hunched down over her prostrate body. Tiny moans of helpless 
passion began to ripple unwanted from her lips that opened and closed 
fish-like in rhythm with the pulsating motion of her cunt, down between her 
legs. She could hear their gasps and lewd remarks of what they were going to 
do to her through the fog of passion surrounding her. They were using words 
that strangely and perversely excited her and added to her desire. Filthy 
words like, fuck, cunt, cockjuice, and all the other words that any other 
time would have only brought revulsion and horror to her mind, but that now 
she found herself repeating again and again in the shattered recesses of her 
consciousness. 

She was vaguely aware of the guttural masculine words of... "God... look... 
tight little asshole"... and felt a rough calloused hand smoothing down 
between the wide spread cheeks of her buttocks. A harsh finger poked at the 
tight rubbery opening for a moment and then wormed its way into her anus. 
There was a slight resistance and then its virginal walls collapsed as the 
male finger squirmed its way up to the first knuckle joint, then the 
second... but she didn't care. It felt like a prick moving there, a tiny 
worm-like prick that didn't hurt at all, and added more to her perverse 
excitement. 

"God, its tight. I'm gonna get her there," a voice breathed heavily. "My 
wife's never let me fuck her in the ass." 

"Well come on, let's get her in the bedroom and give it to her!" another 
male voice said. 

"I'm gonna cum in my pants if we don't do it quick!" 

Sara emitted a low groan of protest as the fingers skewering deliciously 
into her vagina and rectum slipped wetly out from between her open legs and 
hands lifted her roughly from the sheepskin rug where she lay. She was half 
pushed, half dragged nakedly down the hallway to the bedroom where she was 
pushed harshly down on the large king-sized bed against the wall. A last 
coherent thought trickled through her brain, and she uttered a low cry of 
protest. 

"Please, please don't do it to me here! Not here in my husband's bed!" Great 
tears of anguish and shame flooded down her cheeks again as she realized 
that this was to be the ultimate humiliation of her body. Other men were 
going to take their pleasure from her where she had only shared it before 
with Bill. She couldn't bear the thought of their emptying their lewd hot 
sperm into her womb where she had only let her husband do it before. She 
squirmed away and tried to cover her nakedness with the bedspread but the 
man named Jack, with Abby's help, held her down tight to the mattress while 
the ruddy skinned Sam quickly ripped his clothes from his overly paunchy 
body. 

After a moment, he was standing over her, naked with his huge shaft of flesh 
protruding hard and menacing out from the thick mass of red pubic hair at 
the base of his stomach. 

"Holder tight," he grinned down lewdly at her prostrate body. "I gonna have 
a little fun with little Mrs. Donovan first." 

He pressed his face down close to hers, and she turned her head away from 
him. The pungent smell of the alcohol on his breath sickening her for the 
moment. 

"Now tell us, baby. Who else has fucked you here on this bed while Daddy's 
been away? 

Come on tell us?" 

Sara lay immobile, trembling and trying not to look into his face. And then 
she felt his hands on her cheek turning her eyes back toward him. 

"Come on, now," asked his sneering voice, which seemed to be gloating as 
well. "Tell us how many others have screwed that hungry little pussy of 
yours when hubby's been away?" 

She didn't answer and his fingers tightened on her face until she was forced 
to cry out: "None, I swear it, none. No one has ever had me here but Bill!" 

"Well now, ain't that a shame," he hissed, his lips barely inches from hers, 
"From the looks of those pictures you been doing a lot of suffering. Well me 
and old Jack here's gonna make it two more and we know a lot of other boys 
at the plant that wouldn't mind gettin' a little taste of smartass Donovan's 
wife some afternoon. We'll fix it up, huh?" 

"No, No, Please leave me alone," she whimpered, sobering for a moment, her 
eyes bulging in terror at his words. "P-Please don't t-tell anyone else 
about what you're going to do to me. B-Bill would find out. It would kill 
him!" 

"Well now you just relax then," he leered down at her, a look of final 
triumph in his face. 

"We just might be persuaded not to talk about it if you work that cute 
Little ass of yours fast enough the next couple of hours." 

The helpless young wife groaned, her head lolling almost lifelessly to the 
side as he released his grip on her cheeks. She was lost, completely lost 
and now they had her just where they wanted her and there was nothing in the 
world she could do about it but he there and let them vent their crude lust 
against her defenseless body until she satisfied them in every depraved way 
they desired. She could only pray with all her heart that her body would not 
betray her again as it had twice now and give them not only their own 
pleasure but also the pleasure of seeing her ultimate surrender and 
degradation to their lewd caresses and fondling. 

But, even as the fear of her loss of control tumbled through her mind, deep 
down inside she knew it was too late! Her loins were still wet and throbbing 
from the sensuous stroking of Abby's fingers and her words of protest were 
only empty gestures of defiance. They meant nothing... nothing! It was her 
body that controlled her now and it knew what it wanted... what it had to 
have to satiate the hidden desires burning deep within it. Nothing, not even 
her love for Bill could change that... it was just too late... TOO LATE! 

Sara could feel hands on her body, turning her over and she lay face down on 
the mattress, trembling, not daring to look up at the men who were going to 
ravish her as she had never been ravished before. And then, she felt the 
mattress sinking from another weight and a heavy hairy body pressing down 
against the full length of her back. 

"Now, baby. You're gonna get a fuckin' like you've never had before," a lewd 
voice breathed into her hair from behind. She heard the other two, Abby and 
Jack, laughing softly in the background and then their hands were helping to 
hold her wrists to the bed. In a last physical rebellion against her 
attackers and the raging flames licking at her loins she began to struggle, 
fighting and kicking, but she was held so firmly that she could hardly move. 
Her arms were held straight out toward the edge of the bed and the knees of 
the man on her back were forcing her knees apart with a strong, rough 
pressure. She could feel the hardness of his thick pole of excited flesh 
lying teasingly down between the soft, flaccid crevice of her buttocks 
behind, and she clenched them tightly together to ward off the obscene 
intrusion. But, it only served to excite him more and she heard his heavy 
gasp of breath as her flexing movement inadvertently clasped him tighter to 
her buttocks. 

Mistaking it for the signal of her surrender he moved his hands down her 
soft naked sides to her hips and rose to his knees back between her open 
thighs. 

"You're gettin' hot, baby. Kneel up for old Daddy here," he commanded. 
Feeling the heavy pressure of his weight rise from her back, Sara tried to 
force herself flat against the bed. 

She sobbed down into the pillow, her tears flowed as much from the 
humiliation of the perverse feelings coursing through her own body as from 
the fear of what he was going to do to her. 

She lay trembling fighting her own rising emotions and did not move and the 
male hand holding her wrist jerked it up and twisted it behind her back. The 
hands on her hips hauled them up bodily as though she had no weight at all 
until the soft, white moons of her buttocks were waving high in the air 
behind her. The twisting of her arm forced her head down tight into the 
pillow in front of her, leaving her helpless and exposed from behind as she 
had never been exposed before. She felt his rough hands kneading at and 
digging into the soft flesh down between her thighs where they rose to form 
the vee of her open loins peeking lasciviously back at him. 

"Oh God! Why did I take those pills? Why did I take them?" she mumbled 
incoherently down into the tear-stained pillow as she felt her body begin to 
move involuntarily again to the unwanted fondling of her flesh. She could 
feel her control leaving her again and a great void sifting through her 
mind. A void that was filled with the strange electric shocks shooting into 
her nerves. 

It's not my fault! Oh God, it's not my fault! her mind screamed in a 
desperate attempt to justify the uncontrollable spasms rippling in her 
belly. It's the pills! It's the pills! 

She could feel his huge ham-like hands cupped down over the softness of her 
gently swaying buttocks and his thumbs pressing outwards at the crevice 
slowly pulling the flaccid white cheeks deliberately apart. A cool rush of 
air tickled against the suddenly exposed mouth of her anus and she shivered 
beneath him, anticipating what he had in mind. 

"Oh God, NO! NO!" she muttered, but she couldn't do anything about it. The 
hot growing sensation in her naked loins was unbearable. She could hear Abby 
crooning words of encouragement to the men but could hardly distinguish what 
she was saying... "Told you she'd be a hot little fuck... nice little ass... 
why don't you screw her there... she'd love it... go out of her mind with a 
prick up her ass." Then the other man's voice... "Yeah, fuck 'er there, 
Sammy boy, fuck 'er there. Bet Smart-ass Donovan's never given it to her 
from behind... " 

"Yeah... looks tight... wife's never let me... beautiful... hairless..." she 
heard grunted from behind her as she felt his middle finger probe teasingly 
at the tiny, puckered entrance to her rectum. She groaned beneath him, 
feeling the skin straining around the small rubbery hole as he pulled at the 
flesh surrounding it. 

"Pull her knees out wider," he commanded the others and she could feel hands 
leaving her wrists and pulling her knees away from each other on the bed 
until the tips of her toes were almost hanging over the sides. It felt as 
though she were going to split down the middle of her torso and gradually 
worked them back up to a more comfortable position. 

But, this was the only concession the gasping man behind her would allow as 
his finger continued its lewd probing between her buttocks and suddenly 
without warning slipped slowly inside her protesting anus. She jerked 
forward slightly from the unexpected pain, her mouth wincing silently in 
unheeded protest. Then, as though another being had taken control of her 
body she strained back at the intruding finger as the tight rubbery flesh 
closed over it in perverse surrender. A low moan of surprised pleasure 
escaped from her lips as it dug sensuously up to the first knuckle. 

"God, the little bitch likes it!" She heard the other man watching, eyes 
agape, from the side of the bed gasp. "Look at her go after it." 

The lewdly grinning Sam moved it around deeper and deeper inside her tight 
expanding hole, preparing it gleefully for the greater entry that was to 
follow. Sara moaned ceaselessly beneath him, wriggling her hips more and 
more lasciviously back against it, her teeth gnawing desperately at the 
pillow in front of her face. He dug another finger in her, hurting her 
slightly this time and a short muffled scream escaped from her throat. But, 
the ruddy faced man persisted and screwed both fingers around and around 
deep inside, stretching the tiny puckered anus wider and wider until she 
grunted with pain and at the same time acceptance each time he skewered it 
more brutally around inside. 

Abby watched in silent triumph, her own breath becoming heavier and heavier 
from the lewd display of uncontrolled lust and depravity going on before 
her. Her lips curled into a smile of satisfaction as the flushed face of the 
young wife on the bed, her hair strewn haphazardly down on the pillow, began 
to register a wild masochistic joy. She watched her mouth open and begin to 
pant, small mewls of undisguised pleasure trickling out, as the cruel 
probing fingers worked around and around deep up her now wide-stretched 
rectum. 

Yes, yes, she thought victoriously to herself. This shall be one of my 
finest pupils. 

"Go on, go and fuck 'er," the leering Jack beside the bed cried desperately. 
"I gotta get mine too!" 

Sara choked back the words in her throat. She wanted to scream for it. She 
wanted him to fuck her there and fill the deep aching void in her belly with 
the hugeness of his cock. She wanted him to quench the fire now raging 
completely out of control back there between her wildly swaying buttocks. 
She had to have it! God, She had to have it, but she couldn't bring herself 
to beg. She just couldn't, not here on her marriage bed! BUT, the decision 
was not to be hers! 

"Do you want it, baby?" the cruel, hard voice of Sam behind her demanded. 
"Do you want this big ole cock up in ya?" 

Sara moaned, pressing her face tightly back into the pillow so that the 
words would not suddenly slip out and shame her more than she was being 
shamed already. 

"Do ya?" he demanded again at her silence, ramming his fingers as deep up in 
her rectum as they would go. 

"Aaaaaaggggh!" she groaned from the sudden pain of the depraved impalement, 
her last remaining resistance shattered by the strange mixture of pleasure 
and pain. "Yesssssss! 

But not there! Please not there! Do it right. Do it right!" 

"Where, baby, where? Tell old Daddy where you want it." he goaded her from 
behind, wanting to hear the words of final surrender from the lips of the 
wife of the man who had beaten him out of his rightful job. "Where, Baby!" 

"Oh God, in my cunt! Fuck me in the cunt!" She blurted out the words almost 
involuntarily, the burning fires in her body controlling her lips. 

"Naw, honey. You're gonna get it in the ass. Nuthin's too good for Smart-ass 
Donovan's wife." he sneered. "And... you're gonna put it in for me!" 

"No, no, please, I can't. It'll kill me." she whimpered piteously, trying to 
squirm away from in front of him. 

"Reach back and put it in, I said," he commanded coldly, his fingers digging 
harshly into the flesh of her hips. 

Sara held her breath and in sudden fear reached back under his body and 
grasped the rock-hard cock that pressed between her buttocks. She recoiled 
in terror as her fingers wrapped tightly around it and she suddenly for the 
first time felt its tremendous size. God! 

She would never be able to take it all inside her! It would tear her apart! 

"PUT IT IN, BITCH!" he yelled down at her, digging his nails harder into the 
softness of her flesh. 

Sara gritted her teeth and with her thumb and forefinger pressed the large 
bulbous head against the small tight ring of her anus. Her vagina ached and 
yearned to be filled and she hoped against hope that he would change his 
mind and suddenly sink it far up inside her the other way... the normal 
way... she could stand that... after all, it was the that were making her 
feel this way... it was not her fault... she couldn't help wanting it 
there... the pills were doing it to her. 

But, the ruddy faced man was not to be denied and Sara's eyes bulged wide 
with horrible apprehension as she felt the blood-filled tip of his huge, 
throbbing cock begin prodding and working methodically back against her 
anus. The muscles of his thighs stood out and bulged against the soft tender 
backs of her thighs as he strained forward. And then, it was worming its way 
into her, feeling like the tip of a large heavy nightstick being forced up 
into her quivering behind. She grunted helplessly down into the pillow and 
clenched her eyes tightly shut as the straining, elastic nether ring 
suddenly gave way before the relentless pressure and the huge head popped 
salaciously inside. A slight hiss of escaping air could be heard as it 
entered. 

He held tightly to her hips and the helpless sight of her trying to pull 
away excited him more. 

"Ooooooooohhh," she whimpered from the pain, her face contorted in agony and 
despair from the shame and hurt of the giant pole impaling her virginal and 
defenseless rectum. 

The pressure of his straining thighs forced her forward and she began 
slipping away up on the sagging bed. 

"Hold her, damn it, hold her!" he shouted as he felt her moving away from 
him and the hands of Abby and Jack moved to her shoulders again, pushing her 
back against the driving rod. Sam, gasping and grinning lasciviously as he 
struggled forward, gripped her squirming hips with all his strength and 
shoved like a demon against her futile cries of protest. 

"Aaaaaaggghhhh! God! You're killing me! You're splitting me open!" she 
moaned piteously from the degrading kneeling position she was in. But, the 
throbbing fleshy rod continued its forward surge, pushing the rubbery 
resistant flesh before it until finally, with one last buttock-flattening 
lunge he had ground it all the way up inside the warm, constricting depths 
of her rectum. 

"Ooooooohhh, Ooooooohhh," she cried as she felt his pelvis smack loudly into 
the softness of her upturned buttocks and his balls swing hard down against 
the open lips of her vagina below. She was impaled to the hilt, unable to 
move from the excruciating pressure that felt as though it were splitting 
her thighs horribly apart. His body stilled and he did not move for a moment 
allowing the widely stretched walls of her back passage to become adjusted 
to the strange new sensation of hardened cock, filling her there. He moaned 
softly, feeling with lewd delight the warm soft moons of her flattened 
buttocks pressing tightly into his loins. Her vagina was wet and open and he 
could feel the slight moisture from the smooth fleshy lips seeping 
salaciously out to cover the softness of her pubic hair grazing teasingly 
against his testicles, as they swung gently down between her open legs. His 
eyes were locked on the hardened rod of flesh that disappeared completely in 
the tight, wide-stretched oval opening between her raised twin white mounds. 
He moaned again and drew it out slightly, watching with bated breath, the 
tender pink flesh drawing out with it and then disappearing back inside 
again with his inward thrust. His breath came faster and suddenly with a 
gasp of arousal he began sawing rhythmically in and out deep down into the 
pink clasping channel. 

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh," she chanted, kneeling slave-like before him. The 
other's eyes widened and a further grin of triumph flashed across Abby's 
lips as she saw the young wife suddenly lose complete control. She was 
jerking back against the lewd sodomizing of her rectum as though she were 
reveling in its depraved possession of her anus. The pain was obviously gone 
and her head was turning from side to side her long blond hair thrashing the 
bed on either side of her shoulders. Her face reflected an unmistakable joy 
that bared her lips back over the white, flashing teeth as though she were 
an animal closing in on its helpless prey. 

Sam, kneeling behind her and connected to her rectum by the long hard pole 
of excited cock, watched the vicious white penis disappearing and 
reappearing all the way up into her wildly gyrating buttocks with each hard, 
cruel thrust. Not a bit of it could be seen left as it buried itself lewdly 
up into the tight resistant passage, the desire-inflated head straining far 
up into her quivering belly. 

Her lips opened and closed in the all consuming torment of the ecstasy 
rippling through her body and she clenched her buttocks tight behind her to 
imprison the pistoning cock tighter inside her, her tortured mind panicked 
that it might slip away and leave her empty again. Empty and void as it 
seemed she had been all her life before this very minute! She couldn't let 
it go! She couldn't! 

"God! God, look at the little bitch go! I ain't never seen one get so hot!" 
the one called Jack's voice registered in disbelief as he huddled down by 
the squeaking bed, his eyes locked to her desperately bucking body. 

Abby's face lit up into an even more evil grin as another idea flickered 
lewdly through her mind. She wanted to see this little bitch get it as she 
had never gotten it before it and when it was all over she would never have 
any trouble with using her any way she wanted to for all time to come. 

"Make her suck you, while he's giving it to her." She hissed over to the 
lust-incited Jack. 

"She can take on both of you at the same time:" She did not have to make the 
suggestion twice and suddenly through the dim awareness of her uncontrolled 
passion Sara felt fingers at her lips, opening her mouth, and then rubbery 
hard flesh pressing tight against her smooth white teeth. She swallowed and 
opened her eyes and saw, directly under them, a long thick cock rearing 
ominously out of an open zippered fly. He was lying directly alongside her, 
forcing the large bulbous head into her mouth. She started to resist for a 
moment but the wild uncontrolled flame searing her loins overcame her 
initial revulsion and with a ravenous guttural sound coming from deep in her 
chest she opened her lips wide and swallowed the pungent tasting instrument 
far into the warm wet cavern of her mouth. 

Behind her, Sam, his eyes bulging wide at the sight of the rock-hard cock of 
his buddy sinking wetly between the young wife's tender open lips, began a 
desperate, wild thrusting into the wide split crevice of her salaciously 
wiggling buttocks. He was close to cumming and squeezed and kneaded at the 
soft resilient flesh of her pumping behind like a maniac. 

Below, the hard throbbing cock imprisoned deep in the passion-driven mouth 
of Sara began to undulate rapidly in and out between her lips, never quite 
withdrawing but always leaving a tiny inch or so sheltered beyond her teeth 
in the warm, moist flesh of her mouth. 

She closed her eyes to blot out the sight of its hugeness and began a hungry 
nibbling motion with her teeth, gentle but firm, her tongue swirling 
lasciviously around the small fleshy ridge separating its length from the 
pulsating head. She could feel the moist, lubricated tip brushing 
tantalizingly against her tongue taking her mind in brief spasms from the 
great trunk implanted deep in her rectum behind. The glans in her mouth were 
slippery from her own saliva and she knew it would only be matter of minutes 
until both the great cocks buffeting her squirming doll-like body between 
them like so much putty would erupt inside her and fill her as she had never 
been filled before with their hot boiling sperm. She was lost now, 
completely lost and there was no longer any shame. There was no longer 
anything, not even Bill or the horrible victoriously twinkling eyes of Abby 
crouched close down watching her body succumbing with depraved abandonment 
to the lewd ravishment she was being subjected to there in her own marriage 
bed. There was only her awareness of an uncontrollable desire where the 
shame should have been, her desire to reach that point that was building... 
building... building like the coming tempest of an earth destroying storm 
ready to unleash it fury on the helpless land below. 

And then they were there... both of them! 

In the heat of her passion she became aware of the increased vigor of the 
thrusts into her rectum behind and the trousered hips crushing up tighter 
and tighter into her face. She could feel the cock rigidly poling into her 
mouth, begin tensing in great trembling movements and the hands pressed 
against her cheeks grip harder. He levered forward beside her there on the 
bed until it felt as though he were trying to push his cock all the way down 
her throat to meet the other coming up from far back in her rectum. She was 
almost suffocating and piteous groans of protest broke from her lips around 
the pummeling instrument only to be drowned again as the sound was shoved 
back down her throat by his brutal inward thrusts. He screamed and rammed it 
far into her mouth until the tiny strands of pubic hairs protruding from his 
open fly were pressed tightly against her nose. 

"Oh suck it hard you little whore, suck it! I'm cumming! I'm cummmmming!" 

And suddenly her mouth was flooded with a great undamming of hot, white 
liquid that gushed uncontrollably down her desperately swallowing throat 
like a raging river of fire, that had no end. She fought for breath and 
gulped hungrily at the thick milky fluid wildly ejaculating from the jerking 
cock sunk deep down toward her contracting tonsils. And then, as suddenly as 
it had exploded in her mouth, the spurting organ began to lose its rigidity 
and she could feel it slipping wetly from between her lips. She was able to 
catch her breath again and ran her tongue around her slippery sperm covered 
lips, taking in the last of the remaining tiny droplets of semen that had 
trickled there from the corners of her mouth. 

At the same time she was aware of the greater assault against her behind and 
the screaming within her belly for her own release. She buffeted back 
against the driving cock like a wild mare, small pleading mewls of passion 
slipping again from her freed lips. She was almost there... almost there... 
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh... and her hips were forcing themselves back as the 
driving cock worked demon-like and hard in her rectum making her strain and 
grunt as though she were desperately trying to fart. She had never felt so 
abandoned and her body contorted and convulsed as if she wanted to show 
herself off, to show the forgotten Abby and Jack just how wild it was 
possible to get. And behind her she knew he too was ready. She could hear 
him wheezing and panting, faster and faster and he forced her thighs so wide 
with his knees that she was almost flat on the bed but the pain didn't 
matter. 

Nothing mattered! 

She was gone, gone, no longer any shame, no longer anything, just a wild, 
uncontrollable urge to reach that peak, the peak that was coming... 
coming... commmmming... commmmming! And the fire in her belly exploded... 
juices flowing... hips churning... Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh... 
Aaaaaaaggggghhhhh... And on and on into a beautiful rushing relief, her 
senses closing to all around her, shutting out the leering eyes watching her 
shame and humiliation, shutting out all the things that no longer mattered 
in the beauty of the moment. 

Dazedly she heard the salesman gasp behind her in words she did not 
understand and then he thrust into her so hard it felt as though he had 
rammed all the way up to her throat and she inadvertently moaned in the 
slight tinge of pain. She felt his loins jerk convulsively against the 
flatness of her upraised buttocks and then another great surge of hot, 
swirling semen, this time, flooding deep up into her rectum, filling her 
quivering belly almost to the bursting point. And then, he too fell back 
from her and she could feel the welcome cool rush of air tickling against 
the unplugged hole of her anus as she fell forward on the bed, her breasts 
heaving spasmodically down into the mattress. 

Later, when under the careful prodding of Abby the two men had recovered, 
Sara felt her now aching body turned on the bed. She made no move to resist 
even though the full effects of the alcohol had worn away with the desperate 
effort of her climax. There was no more feeling left in her and the tears, 
even though the shame of what she was doing had returned, refused to come. 
She kept her eye tightly closed to blot out their faces and now was only 
made aware of their presence by the sound of their lewd laughter and jokes 
about how good she had been and what they were going to do to her next. 

"I get her this time, and square in the pussy," she heard dimly as she felt 
her almost lifeless legs being drawn roughly apart. 

"Save a little of that for me, man. I wanna split her there too," another 
voice chimed in. 

"Open them thighs, baby. Ole Jack's gonna see what Smart-ass Donovan's 
gettin' in the night time to make him so tired." 

Without hesitation, Sara drew her legs up, her feet flat on the bed and 
holding the position for a moment, let her knees fall slowly outward. She 
knew what they wanted and the sooner they had had all of it they could take 
they would leave. She would make certain they got it. What the hell! She had 
had it every way in the book now, what did it matter anymore. 

She felt the heavy weight shaking the mattress next to her as one of them 
crawled over between her widely spread legs and dropped the heaviness of his 
body down on top of her naked form. Without thinking she lifted her thighs 
and locked her ankles tightly around his back, pressing the open plane of 
her cunt tight up into his loins. 

"God damn," he grunted and guided the throbbing rod of excited flesh quickly 
down into the waiting lips of her moist and open cunt. He lunged forward 
with another deep throated grunt, impaling her fully with one long stroke on 
the hardened full length of his cock. 

"Oooooooooh," she moaned helplessly in spite of her resolve not to show her 
true emotions again. But, God it felt good! 

She groaned again in a half-conscious surrender and snaking her arms tightly 
around his neck, pressed her mouth wetly against his. He moaned and sucking 
her probing tongue deeply into his mouth drove his rampaging cock deep down 
into the swirling pit of her belly. She contracted the now tingling muscles 
of her vagina tightly around the wonderfully surging instrument and began a 
slow rhythmic grinding of her hips and buttocks tight up against his 
rotating pelvis her womb opening like a budding flower to take him as deep 
down inside her re-wakened cunt as he could go .She could feel the softness 
of his testicles brushing salaciously down against the sensitivity of her 
forever expanded rectum as the speed and tempo of lunges increased moment by 
moment. She opened her eyes momentarily and became aware of the other two 
watching her slowly churning body catching fire again but it didn't matter. 
Her loins were squirming desperately now and momentarily as her eyes locked 
on Abby's triumphant face she had one more coherent thought that this was 
depraved, horrible and that she had rather be dead than have them watching 
her helpless body turning again into a raving, insatiable animal of lust. 
But she could not stop and suddenly realized through the heat of her all 
consuming desire that her body was all over the place, her legs flailing, 
locking, unlocking, squirming, fighting to pull him deeper until there was 
no more reality but her wildly pleading voice ringing piteously through the 
room for greater and greater indignities to be heaped upon her naked 
twisting form. 

And she got her wish. How long it went on, she did not know. How many times 
they had spurted their hot thick semen deep in her quivering belly she did 
not know. The hours came and went and it was not until the late afternoon 
shadows were filtering dream-like through the still open curtains of the 
bedroom that the men rose from their brutal pleasure and left her exhausted 
nude form lying spread-eagle and almost lifeless in the center of the 
rumpled bed. She could see their vague shadowy forms as they dressed and was 
aware of Abby hovering victoriously over her, her eyes gleaming with 
triumph. 

"Now, my dear," she could hear her voice hissing down at her. "I think 
you'll play our little game my way. Won't you?" 

"Y-Yes," was all she could manage to whisper, her voice quivering with each 
word. "B- But please don't let it get to m-my husband." 

A slight mischievous smile flickered across Abby's lips, her face beaming as 
though she couldn't resist the one final thrust of the dagger that would 
totally destroy all the dignity this proud young woman had left. 

"He knows, my dear." she spat vindictively as she turned and followed the 
laughing men out the door. "How do you think he got that promotion?" 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

Sara stood alone on the balcony, oblivious to the raucous sounds of the 
party behind her. 

The thunderous roar of the waves pounding against the rocks below her and 
the flickering lights of Carmel-by-the-Sea across the bay seemed to have her 
mesmerized. From a distance it appeared the beautiful girl had stepped out 
onto the balcony just to avoid the smoke and noise inside, but closer you 
would have noticed the tears and her grief-stricken expression; the cowering 
fear of a cruelly beaten dog in her eyes. She stood motionless, her drink 
untouched, with the salty, spray-laden winds whipping her long honey-blonde 
hair haphazardly across her face. 

It would be so easy... so easy... flickered through her mind... the noise 
inside would hide the sound of her fall. Bill, her own husband! How could he 
have done it. How could he have ever condoned her treatment at the hands of 
Abby for the sake of money and money alone. Abby had been right. He had 
known and she hadn't even had to ask him about it. The look on his face when 
he had returned home that night of their anniversary so many months ago had 
told the complete story. And... when she had begged and pleaded with him to 
run away with her and start over again, he had only shrugged his shoulders 
and muttered something about never finding a deal like this again as long as 
they lived. She had screamed and threatened divorce and a thousand useless 
things but he could only mumble something about Abby threatening to give 
those pictures to the court if she tried such a thing. It had all been one 
long horrible nightmare since then and how many strange and depraved men she 
had taken on at the "bridge club" she had lost count of, not even 
remembering their faces or the way they had looked. Only the countless 
horrible things they had done to her and made her do to them still remaining 
seared in her mind. These things she could never forget even if she lived 
another million years. 

And these parties... how many of them she and Bill had attended together and 
watched each other getting screwed silly in the same room by some other man 
or woman she had also lost track of. Well, one thing, she had never let him 
touch her again after Abby's vicious revelation that he had known about what 
was going to happen to her that afternoon of their anniversary and she never 
would again either. They had maintained appearances alright and had even 
come close to becoming accidental bed partners at some of these "swap" 
parties Abby threw but somehow had always managed to avoid it when the final 
draw of the evening came. She couldn't have stood it as the life they had 
had together was over and she was just biding her time until she could work 
out some way to get away. 

She almost had enough money saved from her "bridge earnings" to go to 
another city and take a secretarial course or something that would let her 
make her own living and then she would be dependent on no one. It was either 
that... or, and she shivered at the thought... the rocks waiting on the 
cliff below. 

"Hello, Gorgeous, what are you doing out in this wintry air all by----Sara, 
are you crying?" 

"What?... Oh, Dick... no, it's the wind. It's making my eyes water." Sara 
hadn't even heard Dick Adams walk up and his voice had startled her out of 
her tormented reverie. 

She had thought she wanted to be alone but she found she was relieved to 
have someone to talk to... particularly Dick Adams, Jill's husband. She had 
grown to like him very much and he was always exceptionally nice to her. The 
several times he and Jill had come over for dinner Sara had found him to be 
a delightful conversationalist and, with his dark good looks, probably would 
have been very attracted to him if Jill hadn't already taken him. 

"Here, have one of these. Abby's making these wild drinks with champagne and 
cognac- guaranteed to warm away cold winds." The open friendliness in his 
voice cheered Sara. 

He really is very nice, she thought, as she took the proffered drink. 

They stood talking on the balcony, Dick making her laugh with humorous 
remarks about his job and then laughing heartily in return when she told him 
how she had seen him watching her that time at the swimming pool with his 
magazine upside down. 

The champagne had made her a little giddy, and she felt very sophisticated 
as she chided him about staring at her. "You really are going to have to be 
a little more careful, Dick Adams-suppose someone else should notice? Jill, 
for instance?" 

At the mention of his wife's name, Sara thought she saw a fleeting shadow 
darken his eyes, but it was gone as he said: "Jill? She wouldn't mind." His 
voice softened, and he added: "She might have once, but... Hey, wait a 
minute, why are we getting serious? 

This party's supposed to be fun. Here I am with the world's most beautiful 
girl, high above the rest of the world and drinking champagne. What more 
could I ask for?" 

The tone of his voice sobered Sara momentarily and she turned quickly to 
look at him. He wasn't even looking at her, just staring out over the 
railing, the muscles in his jaw clenching. She had meant to teasingly 
reprimand him for his overly familiar remarks when she saw that he really 
was disturbed by something. 

"Dick, what is it? Is something the matter- hey, you're the one who said we 
should be having fun." She touched his sleeve, and as he turned, she could 
see the strain of unspoken words tauten the craggy planes of his face. 

"Sara... I... forget it, let's go in get another drink." She watched him 
make a visible effort to change his mood, and took his arm as they walked 
back into the crowded gaiety of the living room. By the time they had pushed 
their way through the laughing mob toward the kitchen Dick had regained his 
good spirits. "Here, come on with me while I make another of these 
disgraceful concoctions and we'll get politely loaded." He took her hand and 
led her to the bar in the kitchen. 

It is nice to be with him, she thought again, I just wonder what is 
bothering him so much. 

During the time she had been out on the balcony the party had gotten 
considerably wilder and the noise was almost deafening after the stillness 
outside. There were couples trying to dance some of the new "in" dances to 
the piercing sounds of a long-haired band Abby had hired for her party and 
one whole corner of the large living room looked like a great psychedelic 
steam engine... the heads like pistons on a huge camshaft throbbing up and 
down through a smoke-filled haze. 

"This is the first time I've ever seen you at one of Abby's beachhouse 
parties," Dick was speaking to her. "Yes, this is the first time she's ever 
invited me, it looks pretty wild." 

Dick put his arm around her shoulder as he answered. "If this one is 
anything like her others, it may be a little too wild... you probably should 
have turned down her invitation." 

Her mind laughed bitterly at his words. She couldn't have turned down Abby's 
invitation even if she wanted to-and if he knew what had been happening to 
her every afternoon he would have laughed too... and the hold Abby now had 
over her with the dirty pictures... he would have laughed even more at that. 

Dick continued, unaware that she had been well initiated the last few 
months. Somehow he had always been away on business when she had been forced 
to attend. And now, tonight, it was Bill's turn to miss it. "I'm surprised 
you haven't heard of Abby's little get-togethers out here. Each time it's 
something different, each one a little more bizarre than the last one. And 
Winston's just as bad as she is... " he paused to light them both a 
cigarette... "you should have seen their "Adam and Eve" party last year! 
Hmmmmmm, I wonder what they've planned for tonight. It's always just about 
half-way through the party that they spring their new little theme on 
everyone." 

He took her glass for her and led her back into the glittering cacophony of 
the living room. 

It was awfully hot from all the bodies packed into the jammed room an little 
curling pall of cigarette smoke was making her eyes smart a little. They 
were trying to make their way back out onto the balcony when the lights rose 
and the music suddenly stopped. 

"Uh oh, here it comes," Dick said, as Abby Baines stepped up onto the small 
dais that had been built for the band. "Don't worry, Sara, if it's anything 
too rough I'll take you out of here." 

"I'm fine" she whispered back, "as long as you're here to take care of me." 
Now why did I say that, she thought, I don't want him to get the wrong idea. 
Still. 

She laughed, trying to cover the weight of her words, when the hush that had 
fallen over the room was broken by Abby's words. 

"Quiet, please-I know you're all a little curious, and if you'll wait just a 
moment I'm sure you'll be pleased with this evening's festivities. Now, if 
everyone will follow me, I'd like to show you Winston's prized addition to 
our beachhouse." She stepped from the stage and headed for the balcony. She 
turned, "Oh, and you can leave your drinks here, Lawrence is bringing down 
cases and cases of chilled champagne." 

Dick and Sara fell in with the puzzled crowd and followed Abby out onto the 
balcony and down the steep stairway. Sara held his hand tightly until they 
reached the curved path below that wound around the side of the cliff. The 
laughter and shouting picked up again as staggering group of thirty or forty 
people hilariously made their way down the precarious cobbled walkway. 

Wordlessly, the two of them joined the weaving snake-like procession, trying 
not to slip on the spray-drenched stones. 

The path ended about midway down the steep incline at a door that, in the 
darkness, looked as if it had been carved into the granite face of the 
cliff. As their eyes adjusted to the lack of light they could see that it 
was the entrance to a strangely shaped structure that seemed to be molded 
against the rock. 

Then they were jostled inside by the crush of people behind them, and as 
their eyes became accustomed to the soft red lighting their gasps of 
appreciation joined the others'. 

It was like a huge cave or grotto cut into the mountain, panelled across 
both sides and the rear with aromatic sheets of deep red cedar. The indirect 
red lighting gave it an eerie appearance and the fire burning in the immense 
copper firebowl in one comer cast dancing black shadows on the walls. 

The whole front was completely open, sliding glass doors had pushed to 
either side, and the cool air and thunder of the crashing surf below filled 
the room. 

Its openness, the moon over the ocean, it was breathtaking-but the most 
amazing sight of all was the huge terraced swimming pool in the center. The 
Stygian darkness made the water look almost black and the rising swirls of 
steam from the bubbling pool made it look like some exotic plaything of 
Satan in Hades. 

All around the varied levels of the pool were massive, multicolored cushions 
and far in the back was a steaming waterfall. The whole room, the wooden 
panels, the heated pool-the spectacular view-it was unbelievable, and it was 
several moments before anyone spoke. 

"My God, Sara... have you ever seen anything like this in your life?" Dick's 
words were almost drowned out by the awed voices of everyone in the room, 
each trying to outdo the other in praise of the uniqueness of the large 
indoor pool. Then, they quieted again in anticipation as Abby called them 
all to order. 

"Well, everyone? What do you think of Winston's new toy?" She waved her hand 
toward Lawrence, the butler, who was unloading a dumbwaiter in the rear of 
the room. 

"Lawrence, will you see that everyone has some champagne while I explain 
this evening's activities to them." 

They had all taken a seat on the cushions spread around the pool and now sat 
in a huge semi-circle facing their hostess. 

"Now, gentlemen... if you'll all go through that door on the left and you 
ladies through the door on the right you'll find a dressing room and 
something to wear for the pool. When you return I'll explain your parts to 
you." 

As they all rose and Dick gave Sara's shoulder a reassuring pat as he got up 
to join them. 

They crowded into the small alcove to find a series of hooks on the wall 
besides rows of lockers. Picking one of them, Dick found a small wrap-around 
sarong, a mask, and what looked like an Arabian , turban. Shedding his 
clothes, he put them on, realizing the turban and mask covered his face and 
hair so completely that it was impossible for the men to tell each other 
apart. 

Laughing like small children, they all trouped back in to the poolside and 
jumped into the hot water. Lawrence came around, handing them all chilled 
glasses and an ice bucket with an unopened bottle of champagne, and they all 
cheered as they popped the bottles and the corks began flying around the 
room. 

Suddenly, their laughing and cheering ceased as Abby led the women back into 
the room. 

There was a gasp of appreciation from the men as the women filed in wearing 
only veils that came across just under their eyes and long diaphanous gowns 
that made it obvious there was nothing beneath. 

Dick tried to pick out Sara but he couldn't be sure... one of the women 
seemed to be trailing behind the others but there was no way to be certain 
it was Sara. Abby led them all to the pool and as they stepped under water 
the shimmering cloth clung to their bodies, becoming completely transparent. 

The men were cheering wildly, waving their champagne glasses, and reaching 
for the women as they entered. But Abby stopped them. 

"Quiet, please! If you're to follow the rules of the game there will be no 
talking or touching each other until I explain the regulations!" 

The room became very hushed as Abby motioned to someone behind her, and a 
sudden murmur as a beautiful girl, completely nude, entered the room to 
stand beside Abby. She was followed in a moment by Lawrence who also wore 
nothing, pushing a small table on casters. 

Dick tried to stifle a laugh. Abby's dignified English Butler looked so out 
of place! So stately, as if he were still wearing his striped waistcoat and 
tails. He looked a little uncomfortable, reminding Dick of the children's 
fable about "The Emperor's New Clothes." 

Abby picked up the small gavel from the table, banging it sharply to regain 
their attention. 

"Silence! silence, please. There will be no more talking until our game is 
completed! Now, as most of you are aware, we've had some rather fun parties 
here at the beach house- but this one should top them all! And for a good 
cause too! 

Her last sentence puzzled them all until she continued. 

"You should all be able to leave here this evening with a glow of good 
conscience in the spirit of giving. I'll explain. I had had several fairly 
good ideas for this party but nothing really exciting until the other after- 
noon when a solicitor of The United Crusade stopped by the house. It began 
to dawn on me that there must be some way that we could all contribute, as 
public-spirited citizens, to this worthy cause... " 

Her words were interrupted by appreciative laughter from her becalmed 
audience "... and so, I've devised a unique "slave auction" for this 
evening!" The murmuring in the pool loudened until Abby finally quieted them 
again. "Please! Silence! Our auction has very special rules. There must be 
no talking." 

She turned to the young girl at her side and her butler. 

"I'm sure you all know Lawrence... and this is Soraya. They've both been 
kind enough to volunteer their services in recording the bidding and 
preparing the "slaves"... " She refilled her glass and continued: "Now 
listen carefully and I'll explain the instructions. You may all be wondering 
why you're disguised... it's very simple. As you're all married I am going 
to assume that you will want to bid for your mate... oh, and by the way, we 
will be bidding. 

And all proceeds are to be donated to the United Crusade. Please, this is no 
laughing matter, I can't continue unless you respect the importance of your 
contributions. I'm sure you'll all agree that this is better than giving at 
the office... " 

It took a moment for the laughter to die down. "... let me continue, 
assuming that you all do want to bid for your spouses, I thought I'd make it 
a little more difficult. And for those of you, that want to, or mistakenly, 
bid for someone else- perhaps the masks or veils will give you an excuse 
when you get home later. 

Now, for you men-one woman at a time will be brought up to the auction 
block-she will remove her gown, but not her veil-and those among you that 
feel that she is your mate may bid whatever amount you choose. The highest 
bidder, of course, will receive the "slave" with one restriction: he must 
first come up to the auction block himself and remove his sarong! If his 
Slave agrees that he is indeed her mate they may leave together. 

But, once the choice has been made to Master's and Slave's satisfaction, 
there can be no exchanging! 

I would suggest that you make your decision carefully... " 

The steam rising from the pool mingled with the hum of shut off voices as 
the suddenly stilled participants as they tried to absorb the full meaning 
of Abby's words. What had started out as a game had become very serious... 
it wasn't a matter of money, because all of the men there were either 
well-to-do or very wealthy- No, it was more than that-each man was trying to 
imagine, or trying to visualize, a way that he could be sure that he had 
picked his wife... trying to think of some definite identifying mark that 
would assure that they hadn't made a mistake. 

And for the women, it wasn't any easier- they could wait-wait... for the 
highest bidder. But suppose they made a mistake! 

Abby, before she left to change her own clothes, spent a moment gazing 
around the room and enjoying the confusion she had created. Her fun had just 
begun. Of all the parties she had thrown, this should prove to be the 
best... not just the idea of the auction of the women to the men... but the 
way she had planned out the other element of it. The young, 
so-in-love-with-her-husband, Sara's end of it. She had taken great pains to 
make certain that Bill was sent off on a long extended business trip for the 
company so that his proud little wife would be there all alone, the only 
woman without a husband to bid for her. The others could make any 
arrangement they wanted to as far as swapping was concerned- and she was 
certain deals were being made among the men right now, but that would all be 
among themselves and no one else in the crowd would be the wiser. After all 
they were all disguised. 

But, with that snippity little bitch, she would be the last one auctioned 
off and there would be no one left to bid for her. Yes, she would be 
standing there all alone and naked and everyone would know who she was 
because there was no husband to bid and that the surprise partner she, Abby, 
had chosen for her would be a substitute. The entire group would know she 
was being unfaithful and that would make her humiliation and degradation 
complete. She would have her in her power to do anything she wanted to with 
her for the rest of her life. 

Abby smiled softly to herself and left the room, motioning for the game to 
begin. 

 CHAPTER SIX 

"Gentlemen. Gentlemen, may I have your attention, please." Lawrence's 
distinguished British voice lent an air of dignity to the atmosphere as he 
prepared to start the bidding. 

With the exception of giggling here and there, the room became very 
quiet-all eyes riveted to the podium before them. Suppressed excitement was 
heightened by the amounts of champagne that had been continuously flowing 
during the past half-hour. 

"Soraya, my dear, would you bring us one of the slaves." The dark, lovely 
girl that had been standing motionless by his side obediently stepped down 
to the edge of the pool- entering the water, she appeared to be wandering 
randomly amongst the women until she reached one of the veiled figures 
toward the rear. Silently, she took her by the hand and led her back up to 
the small stage. 

Abby had chosen her guests well, there were none of the wives who were 
unattractive. 

The worn- en were all fairly young and considerably above average in 
appearance. 

And, though it would have been simple enough for the husbands to identify 
their wives by pre-arranged gestures or remarks there seemed to be a general 
agreement that there would be no cheating. The low lights would help to 
prevent this also. 

In the women there was enough curiosity to make them wonder if their mate 
really would be able to identify them by the sight of their body alone-a 
desire to see if this could be accomplished without the aid of any hints or 
clues whatsoever. 

In view of this unspoken determination, the room was absolutely quiet as 
Soraya brought the first "slave" up onto the stage. And then, Lawrence began 
to speak. 

"Gentlemen, our first object d'art for the evening. Soraya, would you please 
remove the slave's attire." As his assistant undid the clasp that fastened 
the gown, its removal seemed almost superfluous. Wet from the hot water of 
the pool, it was completely transparent-molded to her curved shapeliness 
like a thin film of molten glass. But, as Soraya removed it completely there 
was a hushed sigh from the men in the pool. 

The glistening highlights of water, and the sensuous shading of indirect red 
lighting accentuated every curving line, every distinct attraction of the 
beautiful girl before them, In the sudden quizzical quietness of the stilled 
room, Lawrence continued: "As may be seen, Gentlemen, this is truly a 
magnificent example of feminine loveliness... notice the high, firm breasts, 
the gentle curve of stomach, the rounded shapeliness of her hips... is there 
one among you who will start the bidding?" He paused to glance at the 
turbaned men in the pool. "... and may I remind you that all proceeds are 
for a worthy cause. The House of Baines will initiate bidding at fifty 
dollars, all ensuing bids will be in increments of ten dollars. Your bid 
will be recorded by a raised gesture of your right hand." 

There was a sudden raising of hands in the pool, each man surged on by the 
excitement of the erotic auction-and also, those who felt that the slave on 
the block was not their wife delighted in the opportunity to raise the 
bidding, knowing full well that the actual husband would ultimately be 
forced to make the final bid. 

At first, with the sudden rush of bidding, Lawrence had great difficulty 
keeping pace with the raised hands, but as it slowed he began to entice the 
bidding even higher. 

"Gentlemen, the bid is now at four-hundred and forty dollars. Certainly not 
enough for this magnificent creature-perhaps you are not fully aware of the 
value or loveliness of this beautiful young girl. Soraya, bring the slave to 
the edge of the pool and have her turn around." 

As the girl was brought forward the men edged closer to the terraced steps 
of the pool, their eyes focused intently on the firm, dimpled buttocks of 
the girl before them. 

"You, slave-bend forward and grasp your ankles!" 

As she obeyed, the men could see her strained muscles tauten the backs of 
her thighs, her long legs, and the soft wisp of pubic hair visible between 
her exposed buttocks from behind. 

Lawrence saw hands raising, one, two... then three. As he continued to extol 
the features of the girl before him, he announced the bidding. 

"Five hundred dollars, gentlemen-the bidding has reached five hundred... my 
dear, will you lean forward a little more." 

Now, her outspread legs opened the crevice of her buttocks, the hushed room 
could easily see the dark puckered circle of her anus... and below that, the 
moist, red lips of her vagina. 

Lawrence let her stand in that position for a moment before he asked her to 
turn and sit down, facing the men. 

"Now, my dear, he back and spread your legs." 

She complied silently, spreading her legs and bringing them up to reveal to 
everyone in the room the opened loveliness of her smooth, pink pussy. 

The auctioneer surveyed the raised hands before he spoke. "Gentlemen, rather 
than continue with this paltry bidding, is there a connoisseur among you 
willing to bid a final one-hundred dollars for this gorgeous young lady?... 
" 

A man directly in front of him, one who had been pushing his way forward, 
raised his hand. 

"Wonderful! Gentlemen, I shall close the bidding at six-hundred, this 
gentleman's bid, unless there is an objection among you." 

The room was silent. 

"Sold! for six-hundred dollars... would you please step up, sir." The 
highest moved to the side to climb the terraced stairs, as Lawrence 
continued: "As you are all aware from Madame Baines' instructions-all that 
remains is for the Slave to view her new master, and give us her approval. 
Now, sir, if you will remove your garment for her inspection." 

There was quiet suppressed laughter from the men's side of the pool that was 
followed immediately by an almost inaudible gasp from the women. 

Whoever it was, the supposed mate of the "slave" on the block was 
phenomenally endowed. And it was apparent why the nude girl before them 
didn't hesitate at all when she nodded her assent that this was indeed her 
mate... or maybe she didn't care but would take him anyway! 

The two of them re-entered the pool arm in arm amidst the loud cheers of all 
the party-goers-and a second girl was brought up by Soraya to take her 
place. 

As the bidding went happily on as before, interrupted only by laughter and 
the clinking of champagne glasses-there were only two people in the 
mist-filled room that were saddened by Abby's game. Sara, as she tried 
hopelessly to make herself invisible in a far corner of the great, steaming 
pool, and Dick Adams who stood angrily among his jostling, drinking 
companions. 

Sara was tormented by the realization of what Abby had planned for her. Abby 
had known Bill wouldn't be there for her little game, that Sara would have 
no alternative but to be the only single woman, stripped and put on display 
for everyone to see. 

Why, why hadn't she run away! She wished she had killed herself out on the 
balcony! 

There was nothing she could do now. If she tried to leave Abby would stop 
her with those horrible photographs-she'd probably pass them around right 
here at the party for everyone's enjoyment. 

Dick, furious in his anger at Abby Baines, stood divided between two 
loyalties: Jill, his wife, and his love for Sara Donovan! He, too, had 
realized the sadistic Abby's move concerning Sara and he was trying 
frantically to think of some way to spoil the old bitch's plans. And, as for 
Jill, since he had seen her go upstairs earlier with another man he felt 
nothing but rage and disgust for the lovely woman other men lusted for and 
for whom he felt only hate. 

Slowly, an idea began forming in his mind. It was beautiful! He'd have his 
revenge! 

He searched the sea of veiled faces, staring carefully at each woman until 
he was sure he'd found Sara. He could almost see the tension in the young 
girl's body as she stood apart from the others. Trying to catch her 
attention he moved to the edge of the pool. 

When he was sure she had noticed him he nodded almost imperceptibly, trying 
to assure her that everything would be all right. 

The tautness in her shoulders seemed to lessen and he saw her nod back. 

Relaxed, he turned again to the bidding which was going much faster now. The 
rear of the pool was filled with already paired couples who were laughing 
and drinking champagne as they blatantly caressed each other. One couple, in 
a dark corner, was making love by the side of the pool. 

Even Lawrence, the staid and stoic butler, stood fondling Soraya as he 
continued with the auctioneering. 

Dick, delighted in his scheme to ruin Abby's plans poured himself another 
glass of champagne and surreptitiously raised it in toast to the girl he had 
identified as Sara. 

Glancing around to make sure she hadn't been noticed, she raised her glass 
to his. 

He surveyed the three remaining women in the pool as a couple who had just 
finished stepped down from the stage and threw their disguises away as they 
joined the others. 

As Soraya stepped into the pool to bring one of them up to the auction 
block, Dick realized with a start that there was only one man left with him! 

Winston! Yes, it was Winston, the only short pudgy man in the whole group. 
Well, Winston was in for a little surprise. 

When Lawrence's assistant led the girl she had chosen up the stairs, Dick 
could see that it was Jill! The veil wasn't quite long enough to hide her 
flowing black hair-and even without that, there was no mistaking that 
figure. 

That mean that only Abby and Sara were left! 

Lawrence asked Soraya to give the new slave assistance in removing her gown 
and, as he did, the room suddenly quieted. The men, all of the people in the 
pool stopped everything to stare at the unbelievable figure of the girl on 
the auction block. 

Even in his anger, Dick had to admit that he had never in his life seen as 
beautiful a body in his life. 

He tore his thoughts away from his wife, and tried to concentrate on his 
plan. 

Sara stood petrified as she watched the bidding begin. She also knew that it 
was Jill on the stand- that it must be Abby who was standing only a few feet 
from her! What did Dick plan to do? He had to bid for his wife! How would he 
be able to help her? 

It was completely silent in the room as Lawrence proceeded with the auction. 
All eyes were on the two men as they bid for the statuesque girl on the 
stage. 

"Gentlemen," Lawrence continued with the masquerade... "surely you must 
agree this is the most delectable, most beautiful slave brought before us 
this evening. I must remind you that she will become the sole property of 
the highest bidder... we are at five-hundred and twenty dollars... am I bid 
five-fifty?" 

Dick smiled. Winston was doing exactly as he was sure he would-trying to 
raise the bidding until the proper moment to back out. At Lawrence's words, 
the short pudgy arm shot once more into the air. 

"Ah... Five-fifty. Five-seventy-five? Am I bid Five-seventy-five." 

Dick looked at the lovely, splayed body of his unfaithful wife, and raised 
his hand. 

"Gentlemen, I am delighted to see that you're appreciative of such luxurious 
merchandise." Lawrence leaned forward. Five hundred and seventy-five 
dollars... do I hear a bid for six hundred? 

There wasn't a sound. Oh my God, I've gone too far, Dick thought 
frantically. 

No! There it was again. Winston couldn't resist raising the bid even 
higher... his hand rose once again. 

Dick almost laughed aloud as he heard Lawrence's next words. 

"Six Hundred Dollars!... am I bid six-fifty?" 

Nothing! 

"Gentlemen, please... do I hear six twenty-five?" Neither Dick or the other 
man in the pool moved. 

Lawrence knew something had gone wrong. He was sure that the shorter man was 
Mr. 

Baines, but he had the attention of everyone in the room and couldn't stop. 
He had to continue. 

"... Ladies and Gentlemen, it appears that the final bid for this lovely 
creature is six-hundred dollars... going once... " 

Dick couldn't conceal his chuckle as he watched the little man next to him 
squirm. I wonder how he's going to explain this to his old bag of a wife. 

"... going twice! Sold! Sold to the gentleman on my left. Please step up, 
sir for your slave's inspection." 

This was the only step that could ruin his plans, Dick thought, but he knew 
Jill's pride too well. She would know that he had deliberately ceased his 
bidding. She'd never give him the pleasure of begging him to take her. And, 
his thoughts were confirmed as Winston removed his sarong. Amidst the quiet 
laughter in the background, Jill Adams nodded her head and led the short man 
back into the pool. 

The room was filled with the buzz of soft whispering, everyone knew 
something had gone astray but they weren't sure exactly what it was. 

Dick felt gloriously triumphant as he contemplated the confused thoughts 
that must be going through the mind of Abby Baines. She must know by now 
that he had purposely underbid her husband, she's probably even realized 
why. I've got her either way she goes, he thought victoriously. If she has 
herself picked next, I won't even bid! I wonder how her fucking pride will 
feel about that! And, if she sends Sara up... I've trapped her! Because, 
she, the Great Abby Baines, will be left out in the cold! 

The podium in the front of the pool was in a melee of confusion. There had 
been no instructions to cover this, Lawrence thought uncomfortably. Why 
doesn't she give us a signal? 

Then, through the rising noise of the room, he saw the older woman nod 
angrily toward the girl to her side. 

As Soraya led the girl up the terraced steps and started to unfasten her 
gown, the suddenly stifled room was shaken by a man's deep voice. 

"One Thousand Dollars!" 

A roaring cheer came up from almost everyone in the pool as Dick Adams 
climbed the terraced steps to take the girl's hand. She was crying softly as 
he carried her back into the pool. 

It sounded as if a thousand champagne corks burst simultaneously as bottles 
were opened jubilantly and brimming glasses were pressed into the hands of 
the man who had made the highest bid of the evening! 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

They had been driving silently through the fog for almost an hour. The long, 
serpentine Coast Highway from Monterey south into Big Sur had been 
completely enshrouded every few miles in great blinding walls of fog that 
circled the higher cliffs like giant grey-white haloes. 

The only sound had been the muffled whistling of wind whipping across the 
sculptured roll bar of the sleek silver Porshe Targa and the backed up roar 
of the engine as the man down-shifted coming into the curves and banks of 
fog. 

In the soft glow of the cigarette lighter, Sara watched Dick light his 
cigarette with one gloved hand and place the lighter accurately back in the 
dash, never taking his eyes from the tortuous road. 

His huge bulk filled the small interior of the car -a powerful car capable 
of controlling the driver but almost like a toy under the touch of his 
masterful driving. After Bill's artless driving Sara had been a little 
afraid when they had left the party and seen the racing machine that they 
were to drive down the Coast. But after a few moments she had realized that, 
even in the dense fog, she had nothing to worry about. 

He had slowed only when they ran into rolling drifts of fog. On the expanses 
of open road he had red-lined the screaming Porsche engine, taking the 
corners high and coining across them like an arrow into the long 
straight-aways that disappeared like a black ribbon under the nose of the 
little silver car. 

Sara watched him in the dimness, seeing the joy and strength in his face as 
he drove. 

After moments on the road the tension and anger in him had vanished, and 
though he hadn't spoken she knew he was happy. 

He's a strange man, she thought, so masculine and confident, yet gentle. 

He's like every man should be. I feel so safe and protected when I'm with 
him, as if his strength alone could vanquish any danger, any harm... I've 
never known anyone like him. 

She nestled back into the enfolding warmth of the bucket seat, feeling the 
soft wetness of the mist and the gentle wind-tugging in her hair as it blew 
across her face. 

In the calm serenity of the racing darkness her mind refused to dwell on the 
horrors of the earlier evening. She only remembered the way he had quietly 
taken her hand, whispering to her that he had gotten her clothes from the 
dressing room, and led her past Abby's unseeing eyes into the house. They 
had changed quickly and slipped out into driveway away from the orgiastic 
noisiness of the party below. 

She opened her eyes to the sound of Dick's throaty chuckling. He had slowed 
the car, and in the dim light she could see the quiet laughter in his eyes 
as he handed her the bottle of champagne that had lain between them. 

She pulled at the cork, and tilted the bottle back -the rising bubbles 
tickling her nose as she swallowed the frothing wine. It left a small wet 
mustache on her upper hp and trickled from her chin- he laughed aloud as he 
removed his glove and wiped it from her face. 

Then they were both laughing uncontrollably, tears streaming from their 
eyes---- Dick tried to drink, but kept choking in convulsive laughter, the 
wine running down his cheeks. 

"and Winston... can you imagine his face as he kept waiting for me to 
bid!... and Abby!... " Dick's voice broke, as he tried to catch his breath. 

Sara was laughing so hard, she couldn't talk as the full humor of what they 
had done had her bent over in hilarious, bubbling laughter. 

"Oh, Dick... you were so wonderful!... he... she must be furious... Oh, I 
loved it!... I love..." she stopped, her laughter cut off, her voice soft. 
"Dick, I love you. I love you so much... " her words trailed off, she 
couldn't look at him. 

The car became very quiet, a velvet curtain blanketing her whispered words. 
There was no sound, no spoken word... just the rustling whine of the wind as 
he handed her the bottle. She drank deeply, her mind whirling with the echo 
of her voice. She couldn't, she couldn't. But she did... she did love him! 
There was no sound, only the heat of his eyes burning into her. 

Why didn't he say something? Please, Dick... I didn't mean it... it was the 
wine... please say something to me. 

"Sara... " the deep hoarseness of his voice reached into her spinning, 
aching thoughts. 

"Sara, Darling... I've loved you from the moment I saw you." 

His white-knuckled hands clenched, gripping the steering wheel with all his 
strength, his eyes staring sightlessly ahead-and his words rocked heavily in 
the stillness, a great granite boulder teetering precariously on the brink 
of a bottomless chasm. 

They drove the last few miles in complete silence. It was only after they 
had ascended the winding driveway of The Phoenix, the growl of the engine 
dying, that he pulled her to him and kissed her. 

An unspoken chain linked them together as they climbed the cobbled path to 
the hidden restaurant at the top of the mountain. 

The Phoenix. Sara had often heard of it, but had never seen the wild 
magnificence of the awesome structure that greeted her as she and Dick 
crested the lanterned pathway. 

She shivered, and Dick put his coat around her as he led her across the 
broad Spanish-tiled courtyard to the huge circular stone fireplace on the 
far side. The moonwashed expanse of subtly colored tile spread in a great 
arc around the massive fireplace, the half-shadowed silhouettes of the few 
couples before the fire motionless like carved hunched figures of another 
time. 

It was quiet, except for the tinkling of a swaying broken glass wind chime 
and the soft, melodic strumming of a guitarist in one darkened corner. 

They walked to the ledge of the stonewall rimmed courtyard and pressed 
together as one, looking out past the flickering halo of the fire-the 
green-gold velvet of the mountains under the full moon and the pounding 
phosphorescence of the ocean far below seemed magically unreal. 

Behind them, the black broken angles of the restaurant rose high into the 
night, blending into the darkness and the rugged walls of rock and cypress. 

Sara turned and, with her back against Dick's arm, could see the soft light 
of candles within the ethereal beamed interior of the restaurant. 

She shivered again, backing closer to his warmth as he held her against him. 

"Darling, do you want to go inside? It's warmer," he whispered, his breath 
brushing her ear and sending tingling chills down her back. 

"No, please, Dick... it's so beautiful. Can we sit outside by the fire?" 

The fireplace was terraced with steps like a small outdoor amphitheatre and 
they sat in its warming glow watching tiny figures dance in the flickering 
red-gold of the firelight. 

A little old man, reminding Sara of strange faraway places, with his clipped 
white beard and brilliant scarf around his neck, came and talked to them for 
a moment and went away. 

Sara wasn't able to understand a word he was saying and as she watched the 
receding back of his turtleneck sweater, she turned to Dick who explained 
that he was an old Russian sailor who had been a waiter there for as long as 
anyone could remember. 

Dick had ordered them hot chocolate laced with brandy and taught Sara the 
Russian words to thank him when the old man returned. An almost toothless 
smile cracked the wrinkled leather of his face as she tried to repeat the 
words she'd learned, and with surprising lightness he jumped down to join 
them. 

He and Dick talked for almost an hour, the musical and sometimes guttural 
words seemed to be a perfect background for the quiet wonder and serenity 
Sara felt. 

As her eyes became adjusted to the darkness she could see other couples 
huddled in dim corners, their voices a soft hum that melded into the music 
of the guitar and the tinkling glass. 

Dick explained that, because of the dangerous roads and the distances to the 
closest towns, the Phoenix was rarely crowded. The menu was a delicious 
conglomeration of anything the Gypsy couple who owned it felt like cooking, 
and the prices varying with whomever dropped in. Excessively high for the 
stray tourists in their ridiculous Hawaiian shirts and as low as nothing at 
all for the writers and wandering artists that roamed the south coast of the 
Big Sur. 

Once, the quietness of the night was shrilly broken by a piercing cry 
somewhere above her, its shrieking strangeness frightening her heart 
suddenly to her throat. 

The two men chuckled and Dick held her tenderly as he pointed behind her to 
a grotesque shadowed shape high on the crest of an arched roof. 

The cry had come from the throat of a majestically prancing peacock, it's 
plumes strained against the darkness. He explained that the preening bird 
was the symbol of the restaurant. 

The Phoenix, a legendary bird of the Egyptians, that every four hundred 
years set itself afire, and in the flames rose from its own ashes to live 
again. 

The legend of the great fire bird, the restaurant, the full moon, everything 
seemed to fit in so perfectly with the way Sara felt. She huddled against 
Dick's knee, loving him... loving the new turn her life had taken more than 
anything she had ever known. She felt his nearness, his protection, and knew 
nothing could ever hurt her again. 

The old man got up to leave them. He shook Dick's hand in both of his, 
saying something to her she couldn't understand, but there was no mistaking 
the warmth in his words as he left. 

The other couples around the fire had already departed unnoticed and they 
were alone as he kissed her and told her again and again how much he loved 
her. She just held onto him, there was no way to answer him, no words to 
express what she felt. 

They sat in the flickering light of the fire, both thinking of the troubles 
they would have with his wife and with Bill, but knowing that nothing could 
or would ever stand in their way. 

It was this certainty that made Sara decide to tell Dick everything that had 
happened. 

Abby. The pictures... everything. She knew he would understand and forgive 
her. 

He said nothing as she told him, sitting motionless until she finished. But 
then she felt the trembling in his hands, the white-hot rage in his eyes. 

"Those dirty... those dirty Rotten Goddamn Bastards! I'll... I'll kill 
them... those dirty, rotten fucking bastards!... " 

He was shaking, trembling violently with rage- his searing fury causing 
vengeful tears of hate stream down his cheeks! 

She held him with all her strength, trying to still the convulsive quivering 
in his shoulders, until finally he spoke-his voice cracking in his effort to 
calm down. 

"Darling, I swear I'll get them! No one! No one will ever hurt you again. I 
swear it!... If I don't kill them first, I'll put them behind bars for the 
rest of their lives!... " 

He got up, telling her to stay. She waited tremorously as he paced back and 
forth, to the edge of the wall-his hands clenching and unclenching as he 
tried to quiet his roaring anger. 

Finally he came back and lifted her to her feet. His voice was almost normal 
again as he held her, vowing to protect her-vowing to love her as long as he 
lived. They sat again before the fire, no more than burning coals now. 
Talking of the future, the new and wonderful places they would see and live. 

Sara was so happy, so calm and safe, that she didn't even hear the man walk 
up to them. 

Another waiter, not the old Russian, Ivan, but another dressed just like 
him. 

"Pardon me, Mr. Adams, your car is blocking another in the parking lot. 
Would you mind moving it to the side." 

"Of course not. Sara, find Ivan and order us another brandy cappuccino, 
Darling. I'll be right back." 

Sara kissed him lightly on the cheek. "Please hurry, darling, I love you." 

As he went back down the path with the other man she rose to find Ivan. She 
walked cheerfully inside the restaurant, dwarfed by the massive beams 
overhead and the great centerpoles, each appearing to have been hewn from a 
single huge tree. 

Ivan was nowhere to be seen and when she asked the bartender at the small 
curved bar, he looked at her admiringly before saying that he thought the 
Russian sailor was still outside. 

The small group of men, most of them bearded, at the bar watched her 
approvingly as she swung happily on her heel and went back outside. 

The rhythmic clicking of her heels on the tile was suddenly drowned by the 
raucous blaring of an automobile horn and the loud, shrill scream of an 
overwound engine! The piercing sounds seemed to fade away into dead silence, 
only to be followed by a muffled series of dull crashes... and a 
whoooosshhhhing explosion! 

She ran. Her shoes lost in her screams. She ran, the terror in her throat 
building, expanding like the black, oily cloud that was rising from the 
rocks below. 

Someone grabbed her. It was Ivan! He kept shouting something-trying to hold 
her back. 

Grabbing at her shoulders. 

"Ivan... Oh My God! Let me go! What is it?... " 

She screamed. "Let me go! Let me go!... Dick!... Oh my God!... Dick... Where 
are you... please dear God... No... No... NO!" The old man tried to hold the 
hysterical girl, trying to grasp back her frantically pounding fists"... 
finally, others came to help him, subduing the screaming girl who fell 
moaning to the ground, her tears mingling with the blood streaming from the 
cuts on her legs where she had fallen. 

But everyone else was over by the stone railing. Watching the flames below, 
the hissing clouds of steam that bellowed from the turbulent waters as the 
still-burning pieces of wreckage from the silver Porsche fell from the rocks 
into the foaming surf. 

In the small group kneeling by the sobbing young woman the wracking cries 
suddenly ceased as mercifully she passed out, unconscious in her tortured 
agony. Gently, they picked her up and laid her on a bench, covering her with 
a coat. 

The buzzing of voices rose disjointedly in the scattered knots of people 
around the edge of the cliff... broken phrases sometimes distinguishing 
themselves in the excited garbled conversations. 

"... no one could live through... My God! look at those flames!... How did 
it... ?" 

"I don't know, all of a sudden I heard... someone call an ambu... it's too 
late... the police... someone call the... " 

It was only when Ivan, the old waiter, returned to check on the young girl 
and started shouting in broken English that someone realized the woman who 
had been with the driver of the car was gone. 

There was no one on the bench, only a wrinkled bloodstained coat. 

In the darkness, the confusion, it had been deceptively simple for the two 
men, one short and pudgy and the other tall and very British-looking, to 
wrap her up in a blanket and carry her to the waiting car. 

There was a blinding light... gone... back again. Sara's mind struggled 
through a kaleidoscopic maze of whirling lights. Red. Then black, her head 
throbbing in a jarring thunder as she strained to regain consciousness. The 
light again... a flash of jagged white lightning stabbing deep into her 
tortured brain. 

The rumpled, scholarly old man replaced the penlight in his shirt pocket and 
removed his stained fingers from her eyelids. He turned to the small group 
behind him. 

"There, she's coming around," he said in a high, raspy voice, "I don't think 
there's been any damage." Then, he added in an angry possessive tone: "You 
fools, you could have killed her. There was no need to give her that much. 
No need at all." A tittering, almost demented laugh dribbled from his lips 
as he walked stiff-kneed, bird-like around the table that supported the 
semi-conscious girl. His arthritic fingers carefully checked the bindings 
that strapped her wrists and ankles at the comers. 

"Doctor MacMasters," Abby Baines' cold voice interrupted him, "I think you 
had better consider to whom you're talking before you call someone a fool. I 
might just take your little plaything away from you." 

The old man's head bobbed apologetically as she continued. "You should 
consider yourself fortunate, Doctor. We could easily have killed that 
idiotic little bitch, the way she almost fouled up everything!... exactly 
the same way we got rid of her precious lover," the woman added maliciously. 

"But that would have been too painless, too easy for her. So, for the time 
being she's yours to play with. We'll just watch." 

Then, the tall, platinum-haired woman strode across the few feet separating 
her from the hunched little man, gripping him harshly on one bony shoulder. 
"Just don't incur my displeasure." 

As the old man had removed the weight of his hand from her forehead, Sara's 
mind had slowly begun to clear. The agonizing throbbing hadn't subsided, but 
her senses had begun to focus-she heard voices, garbled at first, but 
suddenly startlingly distinct. 

"We could easily have killed that... exactly the same way we got rid of her 
precious lover... " Those words, Abby's voice, echoed over and over again. 

It was true!... Dick was dead! Oh my God, Why?... Please let me die... Why 
did it have to happen!... WHY?. 

She tried to lift her head, to see where she was, but a broad leather strap 
was stretched tight across her neck allowing her almost no movement at all. 

The room was empty except for the sound of her whimpering sobs and the quiet 
creaking of her bindings as she tried hopelessly to free herself. The others 
had gone into another room. 

When they had left the doctor's laboratory Winston had gone straight to the 
small bar in the living room and the others had joined him. He and Jill 
stood by the counter with their drinks listening to Abby. She was 
questioning Lawrence about Dick Adams. Was there any possibility anyone had 
seen him hit him before he put him in the sports car? Had the car been going 
fast enough when Lawrence had driven it off the cliff? 

Abby's probing continued until she was interrupted by Jill's sudden burst of 
laughter. 

"My God, Jill! There's nothing funny about this. We have to be sure... " 

Jill broke in. "Abby. Don't you see, it's finally happened... " They all 
turned quizzically to the tall laughing brunette, wondering what she meant. 

"It's happened. The Butler! The butler finally did it!" She giggled 
hysterically. "The butler is the murderer!" 

She pointed at Lawrence who stood uncomfortably apart from the rest of them. 
As the gist of her words became clear they all began to laugh with the 
exception of the butler who stiffened and turned away. 

The enormity of what they had done, the killing of Dick Adams, had sobered 
them all except, perhaps, Abby and the crazy little doctor. Jill's remark 
had released their pent-up tension in the form of nervous and uncontrollable 
laughter. 

Finally, they all quieted down, except the little doctor who was still 
jumping around in his stiff-legged gait, giggling and pointing... "The 
butler... heh, heh... the butler did it... the butler did it... heh... heh." 

It was Abby who walked over and slapped him. She hit with enough force to 
send him sprawling onto the couch. "Shut up, you crazy little bastard!" 

Jill, standing nearby, saw the intense hatred flare up momentarily in his 
eyes... then disappear. And she knew she had found a way to put her 
long-thought-about plan into action. But, she needed an ally. 

Winston? No, he was too soft. It had to be Lawrence. Jill didn't think she 
would have any trouble with Lawrence, it might be necessary to make up to 
him for her little display a moment ago. He hadn't looked very happy when 
she had started talking about murders and butlers, but she felt sure her 
feminine wiles, the lovely scent of money, and particularly, her major 
weapon-her body-would be enough to persuade him to join her plan. 

She'd have to get him alone for a moment though... and then, her lovely 
little friend, the ingenious Dr. MacMasters. 

The little doctor had gotten up from the couch, the lucid moment of anger 
straying from his eyes and hobbled into the laboratory. Winston had never 
moved, still standing by the bar and Abby had joined him to make herself 
another drink. 

Jill took a quick look to see what the still tensed figure by the fireplace 
held in his hand and joined Abby and Winston at the small cocktail bar. 
Abby, pouring herself another shot of brandy, didn't even seem to notice her 
and Jill quickly made two drinks, one for herself and one for the butler, 
Law-Abby seemed to be arguing with her husband about something, but Jill 
couldn't discern more than broken phrases as she silently left them. 

Rather than go directly to him and run the risk of attracting Abby's 
attention, she moved quietly to the comer of the room, by the door that led 
out on the patio, and motioned softly, trying to catch his eye. 

He saw her, and nodded, but seemed reluctant to follow her as she opened the 
outside door until her frantic waving transmitted its urgency to him. 

Lawrence started to walk openly to her, but her hesitant glances and the 
crossed finger on her lips made him tiptoe quietly past the harsh voices of 
Abby and her husband as he softly made his way to the open door. 

She reached her hand for him, handing him a glass, and drew him outside. 

"Lawrence, SHhhhhhh... follow me," taking his hand she tugged him around to 
the side of the building. He said nothing, wondering-but following her pull. 
He had watched her often enough at Abby's parties, and his emotions had gone 
through a graduated series. At first, like everyone else, he was almost 
spellbound by her fantastic looks, the graceful sensuality of her 
spectacular body. 

Then, his desire, his physical wanting for her had begun to diminish. He had 
watched her with too many men. Watched her play them all like a maestro with 
a violin, making them beg while she pulled the strings contemptuously. But 
he had never known the full extent of her callousness, how calculating she 
was, until last night. 

The party had finally ended, the last couple still almost joined as they 
were thrown from the pool. Abby had been in a wild rage, her anger directed 
at everyone-at him, because of the slip-up in the bidding. But, even then 
there was nothing she could accuse him of, it hadn't been his fault. She had 
made no compensation for Dick Adams. 

As the erect, dignified man followed Jill's lead behind the mountain cabin, 
he laughed. 

Dick Adams would have been a man to know. At another time, another place. It 
was too bad, the switch that he had pulled on that depraved old bitch had 
been a masterpiece! 

Abby Baines had been a ridiculous, shrieking harpy when she realized her 
birds had flown, screaming at everybody there. After Lawrence, it had been 
Winston, naturally, then she had aimed her pointed tongue at Jill. 

But, the tall brunette had been no cowering victim, no cringing coward like 
Winston, and her violent retorts had bounced echoing from the beachhouse 
walls. 

He had stood quietly in a darkened doorway, watching their screeching 
display until Abby had finally given up, her voice lowered, and taken Jill 
into her bedroom. 

A half-hour, perhaps forty-five minutes later, "Madame" Baines had called 
for him. To get the car ready. 

Jill Adams had given the directions, sitting beside him-with the Baineses in 
the back seat of the Rolls. 

Surprisingly, it wasn't Abby Baines but the cold voice at his side that 
outlined what they wanted him to do. It was a simple plan, he'd done much 
worse in his lifetime, his only worry had been that feeble bastard, Winston. 

Lawrence smiled vaguely as he remembered the short man's sputtering 
reluctance, his flimsy trepidations as they made arrangements for their 
victim to be called down to the parking lot. That weak bastard needed the 
punch in the mouth I gave him... no son of a bitch is going to cut me out of 
ten thousand dollars! 

There hadn't been any hitches, they had the girl, and they'd never find a 
piece of that little car larger than a tuppence... no clues... just an 
unfortunate accident. 

It had been on the way down the Coast, the unconscious girl in the back 
seat, that he had been forced to re-evaluate Jill Adams. 

It was her husband he had killed, yet there hadn't been the slightest sigh 
of emotion, no regret -only a grim smile of cold satisfaction. 

Even when they had pulled across the road toward MacMaster's and almost rim 
over that bearded freak, that "hippie," she had calmly quieted his protests, 
pointing to Sara and saying they had an extremely sick girl they had to get 
to a doctor immediately. 

His thoughts snapped back to the present, she had stopped in a small grove 
behind the cabin and motioned for him to take a seat on a bench between two 
trees. 

He sat, with her standing before him. Whatever she wants, I'll bet it won't 
be small, he thought. 

In the next few minutes, the tall, thin man was sitting on the edge of his 
seat listening intently. He bud been right. It wasn't small! 

At first, he had smiled inwardly as Jill Adams subtly went through the 
motions he had seen so many times before. The posing. The breasts and hips 
so carefully modelled. When she licked her lips, glistening wet, and leant 
to kiss him, he met her... Feigning passion, his arms strained around the 
curves of her lips. 

Too many, he thought, I've known too many like this. I wonder how far she 
plans to go before I find out what she's really after. 

Apparently he had done his acting well, because it was only moments before 
the girl pulled back, sighing heavily, seeming reluctant. 

"Soon, Lawrence... soon we'll have all the time in the world." She moved 
back, leaning arched against a tree, searching his face carefully to make 
sure she had aroused him enough. 

Satisfied, she continued... "Lawrence, is ten thousand dollars enough? Or 
would one-hundred and twenty-five thousand be better?" 

There was no mistaking that she was serious. There was a tenseness in her 
voice, a surety that stiffened his back. He knew that he couldn't appear too 
anxious, but his greed-the sudden hoarseness made him clear his throat 
before he spoke. 

"My dear, there is no such thing as enough... but just how and where do you 
plan to find this pleasurable sum?" 

He could see that his calmness had impressed her, had made her slightly 
unsure of herself, and unwaveringly he waited for her to continue. 

"Lawrence, I know where there's a quarter of a million dollars, cash! And I 
know how to get it. But I need help." she hesitated, her confidence waning 
in the mockery of his smile. 

"Please, Lawrence... if you'll help me I'll split it with you! There are no 
guards, no one can know. No one even knows the money exists." 

He stood up. 

"Sit down! Tell me everything," he commanded. "Then," and his tone softened, 
"if what you say is true... of course we'll split it, and I'll take care of 
the necessary details." 

The tall girl took a seat, her voice hesitant at first but gaining in 
confidence as she told him what she had learned the night before. 

"It's Abby's money, Lawrence, money she's made with her organization. 
Two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars in cash! Last night she told me where 
she keeps it, showed me part of it! She offered me twenty-five just to 
remain silent while you took care of Dick." 

He stared at her. If this was true, if this stupid girl actually knew where 
the money was... he'd be set for life. He'd been with the organization too 
long not to know the fantastic revenue it was producing. Why, at the party 
last night alone he'd collected signatures for over thirteen thousand 
dollars!... He just had never been able to figure out what that old bitch 
was doing with it all. Of course, it makes sense... she can't deposit it and 
run the risk of having to show its source... she couldn't invest it... she 
must have been hiding it... every bleedin' penny! 

Jill Adams continued her explanation. When Abby had taken her into the 
bedroom and finally calmed down, her rage had turned to planning. She had 
tried to explain what Sara's going to Dick could mean... the collapse of the 
complete organization, perhaps even jail for all of them. She tried to 
convince the younger woman that there was no way but to get rid of both Dick 
and Sara. She pleaded with Jill to tell her where they might have gone. It 
was the first time Jill had seen even a crack in Abby Baines, and the crack 
had split to a widening gap that had the woman grovelling before her. 

But murder? Jill had kept disagreeing adamantly. There had to be another 
way, some other way that they could keep Sara and Dick quiet. 

At last Abby had regained her composure, had interrupted the hastily 
contrived alternatives that Jill suggested-and told her to follow her. 

They had gone to a small bathroom at the end of the hall and into an 
adjoining dressing alcove. The older woman easily moved a high-mirrored 
table to one side to reveal a dusty unused medicine cabinet. It had been 
completely empty but a concealed button had opened another compartment 
behind it. 

Abby removed a small metal chest, throwing its lid open. Jill had never seen 
so much money in her life! There were stacks and stacks of neatly bound 
currency in large denominations. 

Abby had yanked out a sheaf of bills, twenty-five thousand dollars, she 
said, and waved it in Jill's face. Take it or leave it! The woman screamed 
that it had taken her over four years to earn that quarter of a million, and 
nothing was going to stop her from making more, that if Jill didn't accept 
the money she offered it made no difference. She'd get Sara and Dick 
anyway... and Jill if need be! 

"Lawrence, I knew I had to say yes. But, when I saw that money I also knew 
that I had Abby where I'd always wanted her. Don't you see, no one will even 
know that it's gone! No one but Abby even knows that it's there." 

His mind whirled, already making plans. Good God! The girl was right. A 
quarter of a million just for the taking! And, particularly from that greedy 
old pig! She would obviously have to be taken care of, something he had 
almost done so many times for nothing. 

Butler! Hah! He had known the time would come when he'd be able to repay her 
for the times she had degraded him, ordered him around like cheap scum. 

She'd pay. She'd pay tenfold!... that perverted pig-slop!. 

"Lawrence... Lawrence, listen to me." He was shaken out of his vengeful 
reverie as Jill went on. 

"I've got a plan. First we have to... " 

They talked in the darkness for almost an hour, going over and over the 
steps they had to take before they were satisfied that there would be no 
mistakes. 

It was almost daylight when they reentered the cabin. They closed the door 
softly behind them as they walked quietly into the still darkened living 
room. The fire had gone out, leaving a mildly unpleasant odor in the air and 
the stale smells of liquor and cigarettes hung heavily in the room. 

"Shssshhhh... " Jill tapped his arm and pointed. 

Puckered, like a dying fish out of water, Winston Baines lay sprawled on one 
of the couches in front of the dead fireplace. He had passed out, a cocktail 
glass dangling from one dangling arm. 

They looked for Abby, and finally found her in an adjoining room. Her 
clothes were hung neatly, but crumpled on the bed she looked like a 
discarded rag doll, the pastiness of her unmade face resembling glue that 
had melted in the sun. 

Lawrence felt a wave of revulsion wash through him as he heard her wheezing 
nasal snores, and it was all he could do to avoid strangling or smothering 
her in her sleep. Jill must have sensed his compulsion because she touched 
his arm, mouthing no. 

It would have been very easy to dispose of Winston or Abby now, while they 
were asleep-but in the seemingly short minutes outside they had decided on a 
better way. At Jill's insistence they had conceived a rather elaborate plan, 
particularly for Abby-and after only a moment's hesitance, Lawrence had 
agreed. Like slaves freed from a tyrant master, they had no desire to be 
either kind or compassionate. 

But, for Abby they would need the old doctor, and now as the sunlight began 
to stream through the windows they went to look for him. 

They searched several of the rooms, but it was only after they went back 
into the living room that they heard his soft, breathy laughing on the other 
side of the closed laboratory door. 

He spun like a cornered beast at the creak of the door, a crazy light 
dancing in his spectacled eyes, but relaxed when he saw that it wasn't Abby. 

It was Jill's realization of his fear and intense hatred for the older woman 
that had made her positive that he, too, would help her reach her goal. The 
money, and the utter debasement of Abby Baines! 

Lawrence and Jill cautiously approached the old man. He had been at the 
table where the girl was strapped, and closer they could see that she was 
either deeply asleep or had been given some drug to render her unconscious. 

She lay motionless, completely stripped and spreadeagled-and around her 
breasts and thighs there were red marks or welts that were slowly 
disappearing as the two of them watched. It was obvious that the hunched 
over little man had been mauling her brutally while the others slept. 

"Dr. MacMasters... Dr. MacMasters. We want to talk to you." Jill spoke, and 
motioned the warped little man toward her. 

"Doctor, it's important. It's about Mrs. Baines... " He had started happily 
toward her, but stopped and visibly cringed at the sound of the woman's 
name. 

"Doctor... you don't understand. We know you hate her." His head bobbed in 
assent. 

"Doctor... we hate her too. We want to hurt her, and we want your help... " 

His shaggy head was bent, but the milky blue-ness of his eyes peered upward 
at them, staring intently to assure himself that they meant him no harm. 

"Doctor, she wants to take the girl away from, to take her away where you'll 
never see her again," Jill stopped, and watched the impact of her words. 

The demented little man had backed again to the table, leaning to hold the 
unconscious girl's limp hand against his cheek, shaking his head violently. 

Lawrence spoke. "Doctor MacMasters... you know us, we're your friends. Come 
here, let me talk to you." His deep voice had calmed the old man, who 
dropped the girl's hand and hobbled over to them. 

"Doctor, do you understand? Mrs. Baines wants to hurt you, to take away your 
girl... and have you locked up... " 

"No... no, no, no... no... she can't! I will kill her. I will kill her." His 
high squeaky voice sounded like a poor recording and his hands were taloned 
claws as they pulled, tugged at Lawrence's sleeve. 

The butler restrained himself from jerking away from the pleading touch of 
the frightened, musty little man and continued in a gentle voice. 

"Doctor, listen... we can help you, we can get rid of Mrs. Baines if you do 
what we say. 

Will you do it?" 

The man seemed to be hopping up and down as he nodded his head frantically. 

"The drug that you give Mrs. Baines... the one that she gives to her girls, 
that makes them crave sexual relations... do you have more? A lot more? 

The old man tried to run over to a cupboard, but he looked like a wagon 
wheel that was missing a great chunk from the rim. After a moment, in his 
strange jerking rhythm he returned carrying two bottles. He held them out. 

"Doctor, which is stronger, the pills or the liquid?" The trembling hand 
pointed toward the bottle containing the liquid. 

In a few moments the strange old chemist had shown them the maximum amount 
that could be given to Abby without killing her. It was more than eight 
times the dosage she had given to either Sara or Jill! 

As they left the laboratory, they told the doctor to be sure and lock his 
door. Then, they went into the kitchen. 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Lawrence drained his coffee cup and lit a cigarette. Sitting apart from the 
others, he had the quiet, amused expression of a spectator watching a cast 
of players perform on a stage. 

A sardonic smile flickered across his thin lips as he watched each actor, 
watched them perform in their roles as perfectly and predictably as if they 
had been walking through their parts, reading aloud from a script. 

Winston lolled morosely and woodenly on the couch, still suffering from a 
hangover- constantly bemoaning his ill health and drinking one bloody mary 
after another as an antidote. 

Then he frowned slightly as he saw Jill taking another drink over to Abby. 
She was acting a little too eager, he thought angrily, she'd give away the 
whole game! They couldn't afford to make that old bitch the slightest bit 
suspicious. He'd spent too much time making those Ramos fizzes exactly, 
perfectly-so there'd be no trace, or aftertaste from the drugs he'd poured 
in. 

But, his anger was short-lived. From the glazed expression on Abby's face he 
knew there was very little chance now she'd notice even if he walked up and 
poured MacMaster's drug in her glass right before her eyes. In thee three 
fizzes the woman had already drunk there had been enough lust-inducing 
liquid to turn a somnolent old whorehouse into a Bacchic orgy! What such a 
large quantity of the drug would do to one single woman should be very 
interesting indeed. 

As the older woman greedily took the drink from her hand, Jill turned and 
smiled triumphantly at him but he peered into his cup pretending he hadn't 
seen her. That was the one phase of the whole operation that displeased him. 
He was thankful, he thought, for her surprising information about the money 
but, as for her. 

The butler had no desire to become entwined with the tall brunette. First, 
he didn't like her. 

There was something a little too calculating about her, but more than 
that-he didn't trust her! He knew full well that right now she needed him, 
that she realized she wouldn't be able to handle the operation alone. But, 
what would happen when he was no longer necessary? It was obvious that she 
was easily capable of double-crossing him... and he felt sure that was the 
first thing Jill Adams would do when she found an opportune moment. 

Though the thought had probably been hovering for hours beneath the overt 
level of his consciousness, it wasn't until that moment that Lawrence fully 
realized that he was going to have to get rid of Jill Adams along with the 
others. 

She was just too much of a risk. She'd given him all the information he 
needed and now he just couldn't afford to spend every minute watching her, 
guarding himself against every move she might make. 

No, he smiled grimly, there was no other way. She had to be eliminated, 
along with the Baines, the crazy old doctor, and... Sara Donovan! His mind 
was jolted with the thought of her. During the hectic hours he and Jill had 
spent making plans, he hadn't really considered the young girl in the other 
room. 

He was suddenly saddened with the realization that he'd also have to dispose 
of her. He couldn't let her live! There couldn't be any witnesses! Unless... 
Suppose he?... suppose he made the lovely young blonde his partner, instead 
of Jill? 

Could he trust her?... he was sure he could. After all, he'd be saving her 
from certain death, they'd both be rich. Of course! She'd be perfect! 

He hesitated. Did he really need a partner? There wasn't really any reason, 
there wasn't anything he couldn't handle alone. If anything, she'd probably 
only get in his way. No, he needed no partner-not for this job. And, with 
all that money he could get any girl he wanted-any girl in the world! He'd 
be taking an unnecessary risk by including her. No, he wouldn't take her 
along. She had to die, he thought regretfully, but he'd try to make it as 
easy for her as possible. None of this had been her fault. She wasn't like 
these other pigs who deserved the worst he could give them. 

No one noticed the tall thin man rise quietly and step outside. 

Jill Adams sat at the small bar on one of the stools staring intently at 
Abby Baines. Her mind whirled in vengeful delight as she watched the change 
that was coming over the woman she hated so passionately. 

Small beads of perspiration had appeared on the flushed face of the older 
woman. Her cool facade of controlled composure had completely vanished, 
taking with it the Prussian arrogance and coldness. In its place there was a 
heated, dazed glitter in the woman's eyes, a soft slurriness in her voice as 
she spoke. And her hands fluttered about nervously, fanning herself and 
shakily lifting her loaded drink as she sipped at it continuously... she had 
unconsciously unbuttoned it, and her elegant silk robe lay completely open- 
loosely exposing one firm-tipped breast and rucked in folds at the tops of 
her thighs... and soft, crooning moans had begun to escape from her parted 
lips. 

Abby Baines was totally unaware of Jill's presence-a mouse intent on 
catching a small beetle and oblivious to the stalking, circling of a 
predatory hawk high above. 

In fact, Winston did have the appearance of a hapless beetle as he sat 
curled in his fat little way on the couch. The throbbing of his alcoholic 
hangover had disappeared as he tried to comprehend the change that had come 
over his cold and haughty wife. He had noticed several moments ago that she 
was staring at him, a strange unknown light in her eyes. He felt terribly 
uneasy. There was something unnatural with the way she looked at him, her 
eyes darting like the flicking tongue of a poised cobra. She kept looking at 
him! 

Between his legs...! 

He felt chills run down his back, wanting to turn away but somehow 
magnetized by her stares. 

Jill's back stiffened in apprehension as the woman rose suddenly and 
unsteadily. Then she smiled grimly as the man's wife turned away from her 
and sinuously approached him. 

Jill watched him cower into the corner of the couch as the woman came 
closer, she sensed his fright as she began to run her fingers through the 
thinning hair on the top of his head. 

Oh, this is going to be fantastic! She thought ecstatically-but was 
interrupted by a hissing sound at her side. 

"Jill... Shssshhh... come here." It was Lawrence. 

He beckoned silently to her from the doorway to the bedroom. Disappointedly, 
she rose to join him. I wanted to see this, her mind spoke. Well, I'll see 
what that idiot wants and come back. I want to see the great, cold Abby 
Baines begging, pleading to be screwed! And, particularly by her little worm 
of a husband! 

She followed the butler into the dimly-lit bedroom, her anger at missing 
even a moment of her revenge filling her. This had better be good, she 
thought heatedly! I'll find out what he wants, and then I'll go back in 
there. Besides, it won't be long before there'll never again be anyone to 
tell me what to do. I'll get rid of this butler so fast it'll make his head 
swim. 

Her mind was so filled with enraged plans that it was a moment before she 
paused to look at the man before her. 

In the darkness of the windowless bedroom her eyes hadn't fully adjusted. 
What's the matter with him? she thought. He looks so strange... so fat?.. 

Then her eyes dilated, allowing more light to enter, and his fattened shape 
slowly became the pillow he was holding in front of one hand. 

"Lawrence!... what the hell? What are you doing with that stupid pillow!... 
What... " her words were broken off in mid-sentence as the pillow jerked 
twice in his hand. 

The double thundering blasts, the sudden, searing agony were the last 
sensations that the woman ever felt. The acrid smell of cordite was 
beginning to fill the room as the tall, very British-looking man replaced 
the huge revolver in his pocket and tried to stamp out the smoldering flames 
in the pillow he had been holding The whirring sound in the laboratory 
abruptly ceased. The muffled explosions that had shaken the floor beneath 
his feet had startled the little birdlike man. In the suddenness of the 
blasts, the two of them so close together that they sounded almost like one, 
he had flicked the switch at his side. Now, in the echoing silence he 
trembled, his eyes darting back and forth, trying to determine if unexpected 
sounds represented any danger to him- or the young girl who lay moaning at 
his side. 

Sara's body screamed in tortured silence, her mind just barely aware of the 
explosions that had stilled the violent currents of electricity that had 
been coursing endlessly through her. She felt waves of aching sickness rise 
in her belly as the tortuous shocks stopped. 

Died out, leaving only the ceaseless vibrating of tormented nerve ends. 

The captive girl had been turned over during the night by the old doctor and 
now lay spread-eagled on her stomach, arms and legs outstretched and 
fastened again in the buckled loops at the corners of the long table. 

She had been unconscious when he had done it, unaware of her new position 
until a violent, painful electrical shock, had jolted her into sudden, 
arching wakefulness. 

The electrodes at her wrists and ankles would probably have burned her 
horribly if it hadn't been for the huge rubber pads beneath each of them. As 
it was, there was still the faint odor of sulphur in the dark room and 
occasional flashes of blue, crackling light. 

The electricity feeding the pads at her arms and feet must have been hooked 
to some form of rheostat, because as it continually jolted through her body 
and the defensive mechanisms of her nerve systems tried to mercifully numb 
her body to the pain, the laughing little doctor would turn a dial at his 
side, and increase the voltage. 

The maniacal little man somehow knew the exact limits of her endurance, and 
just as she could take no more-at the precise moment her mind would begin to 
fade into unconsciousness-he would lessen the power... then, as the pain 
slowly began to ebb and she would begin to recover, he would jolt her into 
an even higher level of awareness with a sudden high-voltage charge. 

Sara's mind, her whole body reeled for what seemed to be years on this 
excruciating threshold of agony... her thoughts, her soul pleading for 
relief, for death-for some merciful end to the unendurable pain. 

My God! It's stopped! He's stopped! "Oh God, it's stopped... it's over!" she 
moaned aloud. 

The shadowed form of Dr. MacMasters hovered there above her, motionless and 
silent until he was satisfied there was no danger. Then, the room was once 
more filled with his strange little laugh as he listened to her gasping 
moans. 

"Heh, heh... heh... heh... heh... yes, it's stopped... heh... heh... but I 
have a new delight for you, my dear... heh... heh... " 

"Aaaaaahhhhhhaaaa! No!... Please! No More!" She screamed as the meaning of 
his words sank to the center of her brain. 

But he wasn't listening as he pulled a long, corded object from a drawer 
beneath the table. 

"This won't hurt, my little pet... heh... heh... oh no, this won't hurt at 
all." He hunched over, bending so she could see the hazed glitter in his 
eyes. His face only inches from her side-turned face, he spoke again-his 
breath strangely sweet: "... You'll like this, I know you will... " 

Then his face moved out of her line of vision, leaving only the tortured 
memory of his stubbled, toothless grin and a feeling of apprehensive dread 
in the darkened void. 

She sensed, rather than heard him unravel a long cord and plug it in beside 
the table. 

Where was he? 

What was he going to do to her? She couldn't see him! She couldn't turn her 
head any more! It's so dark, where is he, what's he doing, why isn't there 
any light, what is he going to do to me... Oh my God, why is this happening 
to me... the agonized thoughts spun and tumbled in her mind. 

"Aaaaaaahhh!" She screamed. Something alive, something was crawling up her 
leg! 

Making awful, buzzing sounds. 

"Shhhhhh... it won't hurt you," that horrible raspy voice echoed in the 
blackness of her mind. 

What was it! What was he doing to her! Her skin crawled with the touch of 
that thing!. 

She strained violently, the leather straps cutting deeply into her wrists 
and ankles as she tried to escape! Oh God, it's burning me, she screamed 
hopelessly, making no sound. Oh God! What's happening to my skin!. 

The doctor giggled, watching the squirming, moaning girl. He watched the 
path of the buzzing vibrator in his gnarled hand... running it slowly up the 
inside of one trembling leg, and down the other. He had known what the 
effect would be! For hours the girl's body had been subjected to tremendous 
electrical shocks-and now her tortured nerves were going berserk under the 
unknown touch of the vibrating instrument. 

Soon though, he knew, she would begin to experience different sensations. 

"Oooohhhhhh! Nnnoooooohh! What are you doing to me! Please, Dear God! I 
can't staaaannnnnd it!" She screamed again and again and again. 

Then the sound, the inflection of her cries began to change... to soften... 
to plead. She began to moan quietly, whimperingly. 

What is happening to me! Great waves of heat came roaring through her body. 
The pain was gone. There was no pain, only a rising warmth! Am I going 
crazy! Oh God, what is it!. 

The girl writhed uncontrollably on the table, straining at her bonds, as the 
doctor slowly, methodically ran the vibrator through the crease of her soft 
arching buttocks, across the small of her back... down the soft undersides 
of her arms and back again to her shoulder blades... and teasingly back down 
the curving furrow of her spine. 

"Oh... oh, oh, Yes!... don't stop. Please don't stop... it's wonderful... 
soooooo goooood!" 

She had cried out, wanting to scream at the top of her lungs when she felt 
the violent vibrating spread the tensed cheeks of her ass, burrowing in 
between them, then across her back. 

It's coming back! I want to feel it again on my ass! Why is it going so 
slow! Hurry! Hurry! 

"Ohhhhhhhhh... yes! That's it! Hold it there!... Lower!... move it lower!... 
Ahhhhhhhh!" 

He moved it down, digging it deeper between her buttocks, feeling it bump 
against the raised strained circle of her anus, holding it there for several 
seconds... feeling her jerk violently against the quivering black instrument 
in his hand. 

Further down... until it nestled against the trembling, moistened lips of 
her cunt, running it lightly back and forth. 

"There!... there! Hold it there!... yes... Ohhhhhhhhh Yes!... Please don't 
take it away. 

Don't ever take it away!... Put it in me... Oh God, Yes... Put it in me!... 
".. 

Her frenzied moans and the heavy, raspy breathing of the demented doctor 
concealed the sound of the laboratory door opening. And the sudden shaft of 
light that came and then disappeared as the door was closed again went 
unnoticed by either of them. 

Lawrence stood there in the darkness without moving. At the first sound of 
the girl's pleading cries he had thought she was being tortured, and had 
almost rushed across the laboratory to protect her from the crazy old man. 
But, as he listened, he began to realize that hers were not cries of agony, 
but of lust! He stared intently at the two shadowed figures, the hunchbacked 
coated little doctor and the completely nude straining girl on the table-in 
the dim light he couldn't tell exactly what was happening, but he could see 
that the doctor was massaging her with some sort of instrument. 

Then her words began to reach him as she cried out even louder. "Put it 
inside me... please! Oh Dear God! Please put it in me!" 

His eyes began to adjust slowly and then he could see that the beautiful 
young girl had been stretched out on the table, her arms and legs bound, and 
that the old man was caressing her with some sort of vibrating instrument. 
He had it between her buttocks, putting it... Lawrence swallowed... why, 
that bloody old buzzard is screwing her with it! 

The girl's cries had softened into quiet whimpering moans as she violently 
ground her hips against the surface of the table... slammed her pelvis again 
and again against the hard surface. 

The tall man in the corner unconsciously began to imitate the movements of 
the young girl. Without even realizing that he had done it he had placed 
both hands between his legs, and was holding himself as he felt the heat 
rising relentlessly in his loins. 

The pounding excitement that was racing through his body was almost 
unbearable as he watched the squirming girl... heard her begging voice... 
"Ohhhhhhhhhhhh... please... PLEASE!... I want to feel it inside of me! I 
WANT YOU TO fuck me with it!... " 

Her last words drilled into his lust-inflamed mind -his hands jerked-and his 
elbow knocked over a beaker of chemicals beside him. 

CRASH! The sudden sound, the clatter of broken glass, shattered the 
stillness like a thunderclap. 

The little man spun around. Only the still-moaning voice of the young girl 
could be heard... and then a bellowed roar of rage as the doctor grabbed a 
scalpel from the tray and tore across the room at the intruder. 

"Aaarrrrgghhhhh! I'll kill you!... I'LL KILL YOU!... I'LL kill... 
UHhhhhhh!... " 

The slithering of his running feet, a crumpling fall... and the room was 
quiet. 

Lawrence's mind spun. What had happened? The broken glass, the little man 
racing toward him, something glinting in his raised hand! The little man had 
fallen! Lawrence groped for the revolver clumsily... but the doctor didn't 
move. He waited. 

Then, holding the gun shakily, he cautiously approached the crumpled heap on 
the floor. 

There was no movement. 

"Doctor... I have a gun!... I'll shoot... " 

His eye caught the reflection of something on the floor... a knife. He 
kicked it into the corner and then he nudged the lifeless body at his feet. 
The little man was dead! 

But... How?... a heart attack? 

"OHhhhhhhhhh... what's happened?... where are you!... " Sara writhed on the 
table, trying to turn her head far enough to see. The noise, the heat! Oh 
God, where was that little man! She had to feel him again. Where is he! She 
could still hear that whirring sound somewhere below her. She wanted to feel 
it inside her. 

Lawrence turned. Her moans had distracted him from the body at his feet. He 
watched her agonized, straining body on the table, saw the electric vibrator 
dangling, still going, where the doctor had let it fall. The passion in him 
once again ignited, the flames spreading through his body, and he moved 
slowly toward the sobbing girl. 

Sara saw the hand reach past her face and lift the long black object that 
had been hanging there. 

"Oh, thank God! You're back... I need you, please... I Need You! Touch me 
again, put it in me!" Her tortured voice screamed at him. He moved to the 
end of the table and lightly touched the vibrator to the soles of her feet. 

"Oh yes, there it is. I can feel it, it's driving me crazy!" Her mind 
whirled in ecstasy. "Oh, please hurry... that's it, move it up my legs, 
faster... faster!" 

Lawrence felt the heat flood his face, cloud his eyes, and his hands 
trembled uncontrollably as he ran the vibrating extension of his hand slowly 
up her straining thighs. 

He watched her buttocks arching toward him, lifting off the table... heard 
her moans. 

She thinks I'm that crazy old doctor, he thought. Strangely, this 
realization increased his lust. I can do anything I want, he mused as he 
moved the instrument down between her thighs. 

"Ohhhhhhhhhhh Yes!... move it up further!" she cried out. "Put it in me! I 
want it... I'M READY NOW... PUT IT IN!" 

He felt himself swelling, felt his lust-thickened penis trying to burst 
loose from the confines of his trousers. It was beginning to hurt him, the 
ache increasing with the growth of his throbbing organ as it tried to break 
through the tightness of his pants. He edged the vibrator further between 
her legs, searching for the hot, tight opening that pleaded for fulfillment. 

Sara felt it getting closer. "Oh yes, now!... Put it in!... " She raised her 
buttocks even higher, straining to make it as easy for him as possible. 

It was there! It touched the quivering lips, sent violent shocks through her 
arching body as it brushed across the wet, curled mound of pubic hair. Oh 
God! Yes! He's putting it inside me! Yes... yes... yes! 

She screamed. "Push it in... push it in harder!... " 

With one hand the man probed deeper and deeper into the screaming girl, 
watching the hot, hair-lined lips of her vagina closing firmly around the 
delving instrument, seeming to be pulling it, sucking it even further in. 

His other hand groped frantically at his trousers, yanking down the zipper, 
stripping them along with his shorts down his trembling legs. 

Freed, his swollen penis sprung up-vibrating like the object in his other 
probing hand. He kicked the clothes coiled around his feet from him and 
moved clumsily up the table until he stood opposite her straining face. 

Her hips were gyrating wildly now, raising, lowering to grip and absorb more 
and more of the vibrating machine... her head turned to the side she saw the 
thick, pulsating shaft angled pointedly out from the forest of black hair. 

She kept trying to reach it with her mouth, her tongue darting out-trying to 
run the glistening tip across the reddened crown. 

She couldn't reach it! The bonds fastening her right arm held her too 
tightly! 

"Oh, I can't... I can't reach it... Come closer, please come closer!... " 

He strained forward against the edge of the table... but, even with its 
great length, his swollen throbbing penis couldn't quite reach her waiting 
lips. 

Angrily, anxiously, he stretched for the bonds holding her to the table. He 
removed his hand from the vibrator leaving it running, jiggling inside her, 
and with both hands clumsily tore at the leather straps that held her down. 
First, her right arm, and as it broke loose she swung awkwardly to her 
side... brutally grabbing the erect thickness of his prick and thrusting it 
greedily into her open mouth. 

He undid her other hand and felt a sharp wave of pain as he pulled the 
throbbing shaft from the tightness of her fiercely encircling lips... he had 
to! He couldn't reach the straps at her ankles. 

The sudden rush of blood back into her numbed arms and legs hurt horribly... 
a great blinding agony that slowly subsided into a constant prickling 
torture... then gradually began to fade. Sara screamed in pain, the screams 
eventually turning into sobbing cries of desire and lust. 

That thing! That wonderful thing inside me is driving me out of my mind! She 
groped for it with her right hand, finding the cord, and then finally the 
delicious vibrating instrument that was giving her so much pleasure... she 
held it there, feeling the pulsations fill her whole being. 

"Oh God... it's wonderful!... Ahhhhh... it's so hot!... so deep!... Where 
are you. 

WHERE ARE YOU... I WANT TO TASTE YOU AGAIN! I WANT YOU IN MY MOUTH!... " 

She groped blindly for him with her other hand, searching... then finding 
his gigantic, swollen thickness... turning completely onto her side closer 
to the edge of the table she pulled him to her... fastened her lips hungrily 
around his prick. 

Her tongue lashed out, encircling the velvet smoothness, probing at the tiny 
opening at the tip... then her mouth opened wider, her tongue, her teeth, 
the soft inner walls drawing him deeper and deeper into the flaming furnace 
of her mouth... her hand caressing the thick-veined base of his cock and 
sharp fingernails dancing tantalizingly across the sparse hairs on his 
testicles. 

Lawrence groaned in the pleasure her touch was bringing him, the immense 
delight of her tongue, her hot mouth. His legs had weakened so much that he 
needed one hand for support, but with the other he reached downward... his 
fingers grazing across the fullness of her breasts... the swell of her 
belly... until he was able to close them around her hand. 

He could feel her whole arm shaking from the vibrator. 

He gasped in the hot blasts of her breath that caressed his balls... crying 
out when his fingers finally reached the ends of hers, the wet stickiness 
where the black vibrating phallus entered her trembling vagina. 

Confused thoughts swirled through his lust-inflamed mind. He couldn't hold 
off much longer. The tickling deep in his spine was increasing, threatening 
to boil over! 

She felt his touch, his hands running over hers between her thighs. The 
shocking excitement when they reached the wet, open lips surrounding the 
instrument in her hand... probing into her, then sliding moistly out again 
as he reached to pinch and torture the raised bud of her swollen clitoris. 

"AaaHhhhhhhhhh... Oh yes, Darling... hold me there... don't ever go away... 
" The words came slippery from her lips as she pulled away from his 
throbbing penis to cry out to him... and were shut off when she once again 
fiercely fastened her hot, moist mouth around him. 

She jammed him further and deeper into the violent whirlpool suction of her 
throat... sucking harder and harder as she knew her passion was spiralling 
to an explosive end. 

Her mind cried out... I'm cuuummming... I... I'm cuuuuummmmmiiinnng... just 
as she felt the first raging flood of boiling sperm break loose in her 
mouth... she swallowed hungrily... greedily... wanting to lose none of it... 
though it still spilled from the corners of her reddened lips. 

Then it happened to her! Her world spinning and turning as wave after wave 
of back-arching desire broke over her... her legs jerking and quivering 
frantically... the flaming liquids flowing through her fingers. 

It seemed to go on and on... ceaselessly... over and over again her body 
shook in uncontrollable spasms... her hand pulled the still running vibrator 
from her body releasing another torrent of steaming hot fluid into the 
curled honey-blonde mound of silken pubic hair between her legs. 

The glistening black instrument fell from her limp fingers to the floor, 
pulling the cord from the socket and finally quieting the gentle whirring 
that had filled the darkened room for seemingly endless centuries. 

In the deep velvet blanket of silence that fell over the two trembling 
figure in the darkness, there was only the sound of soft, sobbing sighs as 
they tried to still the mind-blinding pounding of their hearts. Each beat 
echoing thunderously in their ears as they slowly regained consciousness. 

Lawrence was the first to rouse himself... to finally catch his breath, and 
he straightened shakily at the side of the table-his legs trembling in 
weakness. 

He looked tenderly down at the still-closed eyes of the quivering girl and 
tried to guess her reaction when she realized that it had been he, and not 
the buggy old doctor, that brought her to such a threshold of passion. 

She lay still, almost unconscious, with soft purring moans escaping from her 
parted lips. 

Lawrence had never known anyone like this before in his life. Had never felt 
such a tremendous surge of passion before with a woman. As his eyes roamed 
over the gentle shadowed curves of her body, as his mind recalled the warmth 
and desire of her touch- he realized that at last he had found someone he 
could share his life with. 

Since the day almost twenty years ago that he had run away from the sordid 
Tewksbury home of a despicable Aunt, Lawrence had found little that he could 
admire in women. He had in no way found more to admire in the men that he 
had met, had once almost ventured into homosexuality, but had found even the 
thought revolting. 

He had always been tall and handsome for his age and had realized early in 
life that much of his future depended on how well he was able to erase the 
traces of his poverty-stricken childhood and his lack of formal education. 

He had begun to fabricate a background, a well of knowledge for himself by 
taking one servile position after another in the homes of the very wealthy 
-he had watched every move, listened to every nuance of speech until he was 
able to duplicate their mannerisms, to speak and gesticulate as they did. He 
had spend night after night poring through books extending his education far 
past that of his contemporaries. 

After years as a chauffeur in LeMans, a waiter in Porto Fino, a butler in 
Darmstadt and London, he now spoke French, Italian, and German as fluently 
as a native tongue, and English as an Oxford or Etonian graduate. 

His proficiency and acquired dignity had carried him into many of the 
renowned estates on the Continent and his attractiveness had ultimately 
carried him out. Unfortunately, he had never been able to find a means of 
coping with the desires of the women, the wives of the men for whom he 
worked. 

He had acceded to their demands and been caught by the husbands, and he had 
refused them and accordingly learned the power of a woman scorned. 

Slowly, this exposure to one woman after another who destroyed his hopes, 
stifling him at every move he made, embittered him against ever risking a 
personal involvement, against ever falling in love. And, after being 
thwarted in every honest endeavor he had turned to more criminal ways to 
increase his fortune. At first, there were only instances of theft or 
delvings into the black markets but as he became more and more 
involved-offers of high payments for the disposal of certain persons came 
his way. 

It had been this, a miraculous escape from Interpol who had been seeking him 
for questioning in a murder, that had brought him to the United States and 
the home of Abby Baines. They had met several years earlier in Paris. He, a 
butler there, and she a guest that had been immediately attracted by his 
appearance, and later by his discretion. 

He had accidentally interrupted a violent love scene between a maid and a 
liveryman, a love scene watched intently by the hovering figure of Abby 
Baines. It was hours later at the cocktail party when she searched his face 
for a flicker of recognition that she relied his discreetness and offered 
him a job. 

Here in the States, he was once again thrown into a situation he knew so 
well: the corrupted vices of the idle rich. He had watched Winston and Abby 
Baines, the orgies they threw, and the extremely profitable prostitution 
ring the woman controlled. His hatred for women, their calculating coldness 
had been intensified during the months that followed. 

He had watched her ensnare her victims through Blackmail and drugs, had seen 
how easily these "victims" had adjusted, and listened to the cold scornful 
conversation at the end of an afternoon of entertaining. 

Only one thought had driven him on, the certainty that somehow, sometime he 
would be able to get his hands on the money the woman had hidden away. But 
there had been no hint, no clue until Jill Adams had startled him with her 
discovery the night before. 

"... OHhhhhhh... " He was shaken from his thoughts by a soft cry from the 
girl before him. 

"Wh... where am I?... what happened...?" Her eyelids fluttered, then opened 
and she looked up at him. 

He leaned over and turned on a dim light at the side of the table. "It's all 
right, Sara... I'm here." 

She shook her head, trying to clear her confused thoughts. She ached all 
over. My God!... It's Lawrence!... He's naked! 

Then she looked down at herself, at her nude body still glistening from 
perspiration. He raped me! God, I still hurt!... where's that horrible 
doctor!... They're going to kill me... he's going to kill me!. 

Then her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his voice. 

"... came in and the doctor was torturing you. He heard me and tried to kill 
me with a knife, but he must have had a heart attack. Sara, I came to set 
you free! I want to take you with me! 

What's he saying? He's crazy! He's the man that murdered Dick... free?... 
I've got to get away from him. Her thoughts became clearer and she began to 
realize that something had happened to him, that he was talking softly and 
tenderly to her. She had to listen to what he was saying. Maybe if he gets 
me out of here, away from Abby... maybe I can escape from him and go to the 
police. 

"Sara," he continued. "Sara, the doctor and Jill are dead, we just have to 
take care of the other two and then go get the money... you and me, we're 
rich!" 

"Lawrence, what money? What are you talking about?" she had to keep him 
busy, make him believe that she wanted to go with him. 

"Abby's money! A quarter of a million dollars! She's hidden it in the 
bathroom upstairs at the end of the hall, it's in a secret panel in the 
medicine cabinet behind the dresser with the big mirror!" He paused 
breathlessly. "Two-Hundred and Fifty thousand dollars! All ours!" 

She stared at him, trying not to flinch as he ran his hands up and down her 
legs. She couldn't make him angry, she couldn't do anything to stop him from 
taking her out of there! 

"Oh, Lawrence... you will take me away from Abby, won't you!... you've got 
to .. 

"Sara, you don't understand. I love you." He grabbed her by the shoulders 
and pulled her to him, burying his face in her hair. 

Though his voice was muffled by her thick hair, his words were still clear 
and Sara felt a faint glimmer of hope as she listened to him. 

"Of course I'm going to take you away from Abby... we're going to get rid of 
her... you'll never have to worry about her again." 

Then he pulled his head back, holding her away from him, looking at her 
eyes. 

"Darling," he asked softly, "you do remember making love to me, don't you?" 
There was a pleading tone in his voice, and Sara knew there could be only 
one answer. 

"Oh, yes... Lawrence... of course I remember. It... it was wonderful." She 
spoke as passionately as she could. 

He pulled her tightly against him again and ran his fingers lightly up and 
down her back. 

"Here... lie back... on your back." 

She did as he said, knowing there was no other way. She dreaded the touch of 
his hands. 

I've got to, she thought, I've got to let him make love to me. Oh God, and 
he's the one that killed Dick! 

She lay back, her arms outstretched and her hands clenched into fists. She 
tried to stop them, but before she could the teardrops trickled from the 
comers of her eyes. 

"Sara, what is it?" then his voice hardened, "are you sad...?" 

She answered quickly. "Oh no, I guess I'm just crying because I'm so 
happy... " 

Her answer seemed to satisfy him and he began once again to stroke her 
softly, running his fingers lightly across her breasts and down her 
stomach... then he bent to pick something up from the floor. 

"Darling, do you want me to massage you with this again?" 

Sara looked at the strange object he had in his hands. It was long and 
narrow, black with a cord dangling from one end. Whatever it is, she 
thought, it's better than having his hands all over me. 

She nodded silently. 

It wasn't until he'd plugged it in and she heard the odd whirring sound that 
it started to bring back memories... that sound? I've heard it before, it 
seems to be drilling into my head! What is it?. 

Then he laid it gently on her stomach... and she felt the vibrations! 

"OHhhhhhhhhhhh!" the moan burst from her lips before she could stop it. I 
remember... there was... there was someone holding that thing against me... 
in me!... it must have been Lawrence... I'm so ashamed. 

It was slowly coming back to her... everything that had happened. Her head 
twisted violently from side to side as she tried to drive the memories from 
her mind. 

Lawrence only smiled as he climbed onto the table beside her. He thought her 
movements came from pleasure rather than anguish. On his side, leaning on an 
elbow, he began to caressingly run the vibrator slowly up and down the 
valley between her breasts... lightly across the erectile nipples. 

Sara felt wave after wave of prickling sensation run through her body. She 
wanted to tell him to stop... no, she didn't want him to stop... no... the 
flood of memories of several moments before wafted through her mind... the 
lust-quenched fire ignited again involuntarily inside her belly. 

Her back arched away from the table, her buttocks lifting as he ran it 
gently across the curve of her thigh and down her leg... then back up again. 

God! It feels so good! Like a thousand hands touching me at once! Ahhhhhh... 
when it touches me between the legs it drives me crazy... my leg, run it 
over my thigh... that's it... back!... put it back!. 

She reached down frantically with her hands, reaching for him, trying to get 
him to hold it there, to just let it rest on the tousled mound of golden 
hair... with her hands she held it, feeling it send millions of jolting 
shocks through her arched body... making every curled hair vibrate like a 
plucked violin string! 

What's so hot against my leg, something's burning me! She reached to brush 
it away, only to have her hand find the throbbing heat of his swollen, 
pulsating penis pressing against her... she grabbed it hungrily, squeezing 
it, rolling it in her hand, though her fingers barely fit around it. 

Bracing himself, the butler sat up, her hand loosing its hold and moved to 
straddle her breasts with his head facing her feet. She slid her hand around 
his leg and then back between them so she could once again grasp his heated 
prick in her fingers. 

He sat, raised high on his knees, and with both hands on the vibrator began 
to move it slowly, caressingly down into the shadowed softness of her inner 
thighs, touching the soft pink lips hidden in the downiness of the silken 
mound and then moving it away further down her legs. 

"AAaaaaahhhhhhh... you're driving me insane!" Her moans blended into the 
quit buzzing of the phallic instrument. 

She groped for him with her other hand, encircling him an drawing him 
backward... moving him til the huge reddened shaft was only inches from her 
face. Then she pulled him down until, finally, her lips were able to close 
around its flaming heat... she ran her tongue up and down its swollen 
length, sensing the pulsing veins rise and fall beneath her tongue. Raising 
her head, she pulled one tightened testicle, then the other, into her mouth. 

Closing her lips around the tautly stretched skin... and then releasing them 
as she brought her head again to the inflamed crown of his thickened cock. 

She felt him moving the vibrator back up the inside of her straining thighs, 
and as he did, she raised them, bending her knees and bringing her feet up 
closer to the rounded mounds of her buttocks... The whole of her open crotch 
was exposed to his gaze. 

This time though, instead of feeling the vibrations against the hot wetness 
of her vaginal lips, she felt it move lower, under her... until it nestled 
against the tightened circle of her anus. 

She felt him hold it there, quivering violently between the cheeks of her 
buttocks... tearing at the sensitive puckered opening. 

"Oh My God! Yes!" She moved her lips to cry out to him, "AHhhhhaaaaa... 
Ooooooooh... Yesssss. Ram it deeper in my ass! Deeperrrrr! 

He shoved it hard, sinking it far inside her straining rectum. 

Then he was kissing her! His lips burning deep into her entire being... his 
tongue probing the soft inner lips of her vagina... then darting out to curl 
around the erect sensitivity of her hardened clitoris. 

Doesn't he know what he's doing to me... I can't stand it! Oh, lick me 
harder, deeper! God I can feel his tongue inside my soul... Desire and 
passion spun through her, turning like all the sands of time in the vortex 
of a great whirlwind... I'm going crazy... why doesn't he stop. 

Then her lips and mouth ceased their furious suction as she broke away to 
cry out... "Fuck me... FUCK ME!... Oh yes... TURN AROUND AND FUCK ME!... " 

Her words echoed from the walls of the laboratory, but he didn't move. She 
had locked her thighs so tightly against his head that he couldn't even hear 
her. He stayed, his hands gripped beneath her buttocks, holding the muffled 
pounding of the vibrator far up in her rectum... his tongue buried deep in 
her hot, wet pussy... "Now!... NOW!" she screamed completely out of control. 
"Oh God, Now!" 

She reached brutally for his hair... pulling his head back. 

"Turn Around!" she screamed. "Please... please... make love to me." 

Awkwardly, he tried to obey her. He was so inflamed, so fiercely excited, 
that he seemed to have no control over his body. Struggling and fighting to 
keep from falling over the edge of the table, he finally turned himself 
around... at last getting his hips between her legs... the vibrator slipped 
noisily from between her wide-stretched buttocks with a slight plopping 
noise. 

She reached down frantically for his huge, thickened prick... grabbing it... 
guiding him in. 

There was no obstruction, no hesitation as he plunged deep into her belly to 
the very hilt so that their pubic hair mingled and intertwined. She had been 
so ready, so hot and moist, that even with its great size, his swollen penis 
slid in easily. 

Her legs straining, she raised her hips violently, trying to swallow, to 
engulf every throbbing inch of him in her hungry clasping cunt. 

Oh my God, he's so big!... so hot! 

She writhed and revolved urgently beneath him... he tried to follow her 
frantic rhythm... trying to meet her hips as they rose to him. 

The straining, maddened girl stretched her arms downward, her palms flat... 
trying to raise her hips even higher... then her fingers touched the sleek 
black smoothness of the vibrator still trembling beneath her buttocks on the 
table. 

She brought her legs higher and higher up until he moved his arms and she 
was able to lock her calves over his shoulders. 

Bent almost completely double, she felt him pounding furiously and deeply 
into her... the tremendous waves of burning heat as he came down, deeper and 
deeper into the rising urgency of her opened pussy. 

"AHhhhhhhhhhhh... ARrrrgggghh!... Harder!... harder..." 

She wrapped her fingers around the vibrator and moved it up to the splayed 
cheeks of her ass... further up until it touched his prick as it drove into 
her... holding it there, against his balls... then back down again to the 
puckered opening of her rectum. 

Slowly, she began to ease it into her anus... great shocks spreading through 
her as it seemed to be moving deeper of its own accord... the tormenting 
vibrations filling her whole body with spilling waves of indescribable 
ecstasy. 

She held it there. Almost six inches of the black quivering phallus buried 
far inside her... but its pleasure was not for her alone. 

Lawrence had almost fainted when he felt her touch him... his prick, his 
balls... with the tortuous instrument... but it was nothing like the 
excruciating sensations he was now experiencing. 

Each time he drove himself deeply into her, his prick brushed the whole 
length of the sunken vibrator, separated only by the paper-thin wall of 
flesh, the narrow, hot membrane dividing the two openings of her body down 
between her legs. 

Great, heaving moans burst from his lips each time he touched the quivering 
instrument. 

He tried to hold still, to leave himself buried in her, but it was too 
much... he couldn't stand it! The vibrations drove him mad, and he insanely 
increased the pounding, thrusting of his hips, trying to avoid the delicious 
torture of the vibrator, and then returning, addicted to it! 

Brilliant flashes of light began exploding in his brain, his mind oblivious 
to everything except the raging climax that was building furiously in his 
loins... The dam deep within him was overflowing bursting... crumbling. 

"Aaaaahhhhhhhhrrrgggghh!... I'm cuuuuummmmmiinngg!" Her scream incited the 
brutal spasms in his body... "Ohhhhh... Lawrence!... now... now!... NOW!... 
" 

They arched and strained in great, sweeping throes of ecstasy, pounding 
violently against each other... then curving, reaching, then rising in one 
tremendous arc as everything in them exploded in a final flash of blinding 
white light... they lay trembling and quivering against each other in the 
sudden quietness. 

EPILOGUE 

The darkened living room was dead silent, except for the crackling of the 
logs in the fireplace. 

Then an eerie, elongated shadow moved across one wall and stopped. 

Cowering behind the protecting sheltering back of the couch, Winston Baines 
tried to still the thunderous pounding in his ears. He was sure his wife had 
heard the booming beat of his heart and he waited frantically to see if the 
weird shadow moved toward him. The trembling little man crouched in the 
darkness bore no resemblance to man who hours earlier had been the overlord 
of several huge corporations, the confident husband of the woman who was now 
stalking him. 

He was naked. Great weals and welts stripping his back and shoulders, and 
droplets of blood oozing from the scratches on his face and thighs. 

There were welling beads of perspiration glistening on his forehead as he 
cringed in the dark shadow of the couch, trying again to comprehend the 
monstrous change in his wife. 

He had been sitting on the couch when she had come over to him and known 
something was wrong even then. She had looked so strange, so disheveled, her 
eyes so wild... and she had started to run her fingers slowly and sensuously 
through his hair. 

She had never touched him so softly, so wantonly during all the years they 
had been married. She had always been so coldly aloof and distant. During 
the few times they had made love she had lain motionless until he had rolled 
away, and then gotten up wordlessly to leave him. 

But today. Today she had held him tenderly, at first anyway, moaning quietly 
and sexily in his ears. Nibbling at him. And when he had reached for her, 
she had slid readily across the arm of the couch into his arms. 

He recalled the sudden desire he had felt as she lay there, burrowing her 
squirming buttocks into his lap. His hands had ached to touch her, to cup 
and caress the exposed breasts before him, but he had hesitated. She never 
liked to be touched. Pawed, as she called it. 

Then, surprisingly, she had taken both his hands and placed them on her 
breasts and as he felt her nipples harden, she had lifted her breasts, 
raising them, offering them to his kiss. 

Even when he had heard those loud noises in the other room and wanted to 
investigate, she wouldn't let him. Pulling his head down, she had run her 
tongue around the sensitive innerside of his ears as he kissed her nipples. 

Then she had begun to undo his shirt, slapping his hand away when he tried 
to help. She had coaxed him onto the soft carpet before the fire and 
completely undressed him. His mind had whirled in the luxury of an attentive 
wife, and he had searched for an explanation, for a reason why she had 
changed so toward him. There had been none that he could think of, unless it 
had been the drinks. It couldn't have been. He'd seen her drink anyone under 
the table, including him. 

Finally, he'd given up wondering and had lain back unquestioningly to enjoy 
the unexpected pleasure of his new wife. 

She stood up, gracefully stripping for him, and then knelt again to his 
side. 

She had reached between his legs, squeezing and caressing him until he had 
hardened and then taken him in her mouth! Even now, as he remembered he 
couldn't believe it. 

She had kissed him, sucking at him, until he had pleaded with her to stop. 
But she had told him no, that she wanted to tasted him as he came into her 
mouth. In moments he had, in a great hot flood of passion. 

He remembered lying back, still trembling... reveling in the satisfaction 
and pleasure he felt. 

And then, though his ardor had disappeared as she had licked the last drop 
of desire from him, he had followed her touch and knelt between her legs to 
kiss her. He had been determined to return the pleasure she had so 
generously given him and he had kissed and tongued her for what had seemed 
to be hours... until she had finally cried out, arching toward him, 
quivering. 

He had rested there in front of the fire feeling very pleased with himself. 
It had been the first time he had ever been able to make her reach a climax. 

But, she hadn't stopped! Almost immediately, she had grabbed him again... 
hurting him... he wasn't ready. 

The rest had been a horrible nightmare. She had screeched at him, screaming 
and hitting him... then she had pleaded and begged. But he hadn't been able 
to... he couldn't get another erection. 

He had tried... tried everything... but she kept hitting him, clawing him. 

Finally, he had been able to knock her away from him, but before he had been 
able to get out of the room she had started to get up again, looking around 
for him, screaming filthy obscenities. 

In her rage, she hadn't seen him right away and he had been able to duck 
behind this couch. 

He'd been there for almost an hour, watching in fear and horror as she stood 
in the middle of the room masturbating, all the time calling for him... 
calling him horrible names. 

Winston crouched there, his mind in a turmoil, trying to figure some way to 
get away from his lust-crazed wife, blinking his eyes, trying to find the 
shadow he had been watching. 

Without it I've lost her! Where is she... He never saw her. Never heard the 
swishing sound of the fire poker as it crushed his skull. 

But in death, the little man almost got his revenge. Because as he fell he 
hit her, knocking her backwards towards the fire. 

The maddened woman jumped away before the flimsy gown she was wearing burst 
entirely into flames, and raced stumbling for the door to the laboratory... 
never noticing the tiny tongue of fire that was licking at one hidden fold. 

The door burst open! A sudden shaft of dim light washing across the couple 
on the table. 

They turned quickly at the noise to see a weird flaming silhouette framed in 
the doorway. Motionless at first, except for the head that kept jerking back 
and forth trying to find them... then she saw them! 

"MY God!... It's Abby!" Lawrence shouted, as she came racing toward them. 

He rolled from the table as Sara fell to the floor. He ran to the side of 
the room frantically. 

"Sara!... My pants... find my pants!" he screamed as he tried to dodge the 
poker the woman was swinging at him. "My gun's in my pants! For God's Sake, 
Sara!... " 

He stumbled, fell from the blows that rained upon his shoulders. He crawled 
crab-like across the floor, trying to escape the berserk, burning woman. 

"Sara... FIND MY PANTS... THE GUN!" 

There! Sara saw them. They were crumpled near the end of the table. 
Scurrying beneath the table she finally reached them and frantically dug for 
the revolver. 

"Sara... SLIDE IT TO ME!... UHhhhhhh!" The woman stood over him, swinging 
the metal rod like an axe, the thudding of it filling the room as she hit 
him in the back, on the head. 

Sara pulled the gun free and slid it across the floor to him just as the 
poker descended once more... knocking him unconscious. 

The flames swirling around her, her hair on fire, the crazed woman stood 
above his motionless body for a moment and then turned, looking for Sara! 

She ran amuck in the laboratory... in circles as burning bits of cloth fell 
behind her, bursting into brightly glowing flames in the spreading pools of 
chemicals from bottles and beakers broken by the wildly swinging poker. 

Screaming in pain, blooded in lust, she swung the iron rod at everything in 
sight, as if the frantic girl could be hiding behind a jar of chemicals. 

Then she saw her! 

She came roaring across the room toward Sara! With superhuman strength she 
overturned the table, knocking the crouching girl helplessly on her back. 

Sara looked up, her hands crossed across her tear-stained face, and saw the 
flaming spectre above her, hideous laughs coming within the circle of fiery 
hair! 

Her agonized mind saw the upraised arms, waited for the crushing blow... and 
just barely heard the dull explosion as the woman fell across her. 

Her senses recoiled at the odor of seared flesh, the pain of fire... 
violently she thrust the heavy quivering body from her and scrambled 
sideways... away from the still burning hair! 

Then, she heard the dull clatter and turned just in time to see the revolver 
drop from Lawrence's hand as he died. 

The whole laboratory was belching flames and acrid smoke as more and more 
spilled chemicals caught fire. 

Sara stumbled blindly through the smoke toward the door, finally reaching 
it. Frantically she lifted the bar and swung it open in a great whooosh of 
flame. 

She stood in the clear, sunlit air, beside the grey Rolls-Royce, crying 
softly in relief and exhaustion. She leaned against the fender for a few 
short moments, hearing the mournful sound of sirens approaching somewhere in 
the vague distance. Somehow she struggled into the car and finding the keys 
in place started it down the highway. Even in her dazed and battered 
condition she knew she couldn't be found here. She would never be able to 
explain all that had happened and even if she could they would never believe 
her. Tears streamed down her face as she drove. There was nothing left, 
nowhere to go. What would she do? 

And then, as though a memory from a far distant life she had lived before, 
one that had no connection with the horrible reality she was now enmeshed 
in, a voice trickled slowly through her tortured brain:... in the upstairs 
bathroom at the end of the hall... a secret panel in the medicine cabinet 
behind the dresser with the big mirror... a quarter of a million dollars! 
And... now she knew what life was all about... and... that amount of money 
could buy an awful lot of life. 

Any kind she wanted! 


THE END
