A NAUGHTY GIRL
By Vanessa Robard


Foreword

The realm of sexual expression has remained one of controversy for many centuries,
and undoubtedly will remain so for many more. There is no answer for the individual
considering any particular form of sexual outlet, except that he must be true to himself.
The mature individual who has achieved this sort of self honesty and completeness will
be little harmed or affected by the illogical or irrational opinions of others.
In this exceptionally well written novel the author has cleverly woven this truth like an
unseen thread throughout the entire work. Had the characters faced up to their unusual
desires instead of trying to repress them, much of the anguish they suffered would
logically have been avoided.
The author does not claim this concept of opinion to be solely his own, nor a
revolutionary thought. To the contrary, it has been expressed by the wisest thinkers
through the ages. "This above all: to thine own self be true," was Shakespeare's way of
saying the same thing; but it comes to us from still an earlier source, and one which not
even the most rigid moralist can contest... "Happy is he that condemneth not himself
for that which he alloweth himself. But he that doubteth is damned if he eat. "Those
who deny others sexual pleasures by quoting the Scriptures would be well advised to
consider this quote from Romans.
No doubt this era could be called the age of sexual enlightenment. That this ultimately
will be for the benefit of all mankind is obvious merely by looking at the past and
previous ages of enlightenment. But even a brief glance backwards will also reveal that,
in such times, honored traditions and concepts were re examined, and many times
discarded. What was considered fact was found to be imagine. In short, the excuse that
"it isn't done" or "it's shameful" will no longer suffice in denying man a specific form of
pleasure.
The author has published many volumes of contemporary fiction with us. We offer no
further comment, except our extreme pleasure in presenting this timely work. We now
suggest that you read it and draw your own conclusions. A work of art, no matter how
contemporary, should speak for itself.
-The Publisher


Chapter 1

"Honey, would you like some coffee before you leave for work?" Gilda Aimes called up
the stairs to her husband Benson.
"No thank you, dear," Benson Aimes dutifully replied as he grabbed his briefcase and
straightened his tie. He stopped momentarily at the full length mirror in the Aimes'
exquisitely paneled bedroom and inspected the flecks of gray in his prematurely turning
hair. He realized they were the price he had to pay to be the most effective city
prosecutor in the City and Country of Los Angeles, yet he often wondered whether his
long hours and grueling pace were really worth the effort. His hard work in fighting
crime in one of the nation's largest cities had given him a reputation of being "Mr. Law
and Order," but he sometimes found himself wishing he could idle his hours away like
the people he so desperately fought to convict.
"Good morning, darling," he said whisking into the kitchen and gulping down the
coffee Gilda had made.
Although Gilda was more than ten years younger than her husband she made a perfect
mate for the bustling, hard working attorney. She loved Benson as much as he loved
her and centered her entire existence around his happiness. They had been married for
two years and despite the occasional "spat" they and all married couples lived through,
their life together had been a fruitful one. Gilda was a good cook, entertainer and even
though they were childless, she was loyal beyond reproach. There was only one facet to
their relationship which perplexed Benson and that was his wife's constant concern
with their social acceptability.
Gilda Benson had been born of very affluent parents and she refused to consider herself
and her husband anything less than part of the city's elite class of people. She devoted
most of her time to ensuring that they spent their leisure hours in the company of the
'right' people, and though Benson cared little for the social life she craved, her
acquiesced in her demands that they attend precisely the kind of functions and events
which would help promote Benson's career. Gilda knew her social predilections irritated
her husband, yet it seemed her conversation always directed itself to area of high society
and the cultured elite.
But as Benson took his seat and started to flip through the morning's paper, his mind
was far from the social page. Ever since he had given up his lucrative private practice to
become the city's top D.A., Benson had been concerned with only one topic,
Prostitution.
Absentmindedly poking at his scrambled eggs, Benson scanned the paper for anything
which was remotely related to his area of concern. He had become an expert at making
mental notes of governmental and legal news items which were of interest, but on this
particular morning there was nothing in the paper which stimulated him. He had
hoped that there would have been some kind of rebuttal to the blistering attack he had
recently made on organized prostitution via a full column in the paper, but searching
almost frantically for some small indication that people were as morally outraged as he
was with the proliferation of sex in the city, he was left with gnawing realization that
few, if any, cared. Benson folded the paper and violently tossed it on the cupboard as
Gilda looked up in surprise.
"What's the matter, honey?" she asked. "Are you having problems at work again? I
mean, really, I thought you said everything was going so smoothly at the courthouse."
"Look, let's not talk about it, now, huh," Benson said between tightly clenched teeth.
"I'm beginning to think you're like everyone else in this town. Always giving lip service
to my problems, but never wanting to do anything about them."
"Please darling, I'd really like to hear what's on your mind," Gilda said, knowing she'd
best not push the subject, yet unwilling to bow to his vaguely threatening tone of voice.
"I'm sorry honey," he said. "I didn't mean to raise my voice to you. It's just that
yesterday, I got a hold of a name. A name, I'm sure that's tied up with the flesh
peddlers and big time vice organization in this city. The problem is that I doubt that I
can convince anyone that the name I've got has anything to do with illegal bingo
games, much less syndicate level prostitution."
Lighting a cigarette, Gilda looked at her husband attentively hoping to get a little more
information. Although she couldn't believe that prostitution was organized she found
her husband's discourse on the topic most interesting and tasty gossip for the friends
she met for lunch.
"O.K." Benson said, "are you ready for a shock? What if I told you that Barker Tibbett
was the big man in this city's vice ring? Would you believe it?"
Gilda's initial response was a slight, yet audible gasp, but as she tossed the subject
around in her mind, her stunned face started to transform itself into a blossoming
smile.
"Benson!" she said, "have you lost your senses? Why Barker Tibbett is a friend of my
father's. He's one of the most charitable men in the city. He gives thousands of dollars
each year to every benevolent organization in town."
"That's just the point," Benson said vehemently. "Why do you think it's so hard for me
to get any 'big money' to support my drive to clean up this city? Well, I'll tell you. It's
because it's guys like Tibbett and his friends that have the control of the very
organizations I'm trying to destroy."
At this point Gilda wasn't even listening. If Benson wanted to rave on like a lunatic she
preferred he did so at his office. After all, why would a man like Barker Tibbett give all
that money to charity and then try to make more supporting a prostitution ring. The
entire idea was too outrageous for Gilda to even consider.
"Look," he went on, unwilling to stop his tirade. "All of your so called prestigious
friends, people with the political know how, are unwilling to even listen to what I have
to say. They're too gutless to rock the social boat and that's why men like Tibbett have
such a free rein with the power in Los Angeles. I mean, so what if he gives money to
charity? Can you imagine the millions of dollars he makes every year on tourist trade
alone? Sure, he'll give a few piddling dollars to charity to cleanse his image; as long as
he can profit by doing so. This city can make enough money on legitimate tourist trade
and I'll be damned if I'm going to bring my children up in a town where sex and crime
run rampant."
Although Gilda had been daydreaming at this point, the word 'children' brought her
attention back to her husband's harangue. They had both wanted children, but Gilda's
problem was sexual intercourse. She felt that she enjoyed it but not to the extent that
Benson did. Perhaps it had been the graphic way her mother had told her of the terrible
things men did to women, but Gilda felt that sex was something to be avoided if
possible. To her, sex more than once a week was excessive and she knew that once they
had a baby she could cut down their frequency without her husband's objection.
"Look, honey," he said trying a different approach. "I simply wish you'd try to
understand. Too many of the very people you seem to admire and respect have ignored
the problem too long. If the present trends continue, there's just no telling what could
happen to this city, not to mention the entire country."
"Ben darling," she said. "I do try to understand, it's just that I think you might be
barking up the wrong tree."
Sighing and shrugging his shoulders, Benson got up from the table coming to the
conclusion that nothing he could say would change her mind. Good God, he thought, I
know it's not her fault she doesn't understand but Christ almighty.
"Well, have a nice day," he intoned as he gently kissed her cheek and headed for the
door.
"You too," she replied, as he unconsciously slammed the door and raced for the car.
Damn it, he thought to himself as he began the long drive to his office. If only Gilda
and some of her friends could see the things that I've seen in this city they'd sure
change their minds in a hurry. He thought of his wife and the many people like her
who believed that anyone with money and power also had the moral fortitude to use it
responsibly. What an archaic notion, he said aloud to himself.
As his car radio blared out new reports of crime and violence, Benson made the
intuitive, yet his way of thinking, plausible connection between organized prostitution
and the proliferation of garden variety crimes. How could he prove to Gilda and people
like her that his assumptions were valid? Benson knew if he could come up with the
answer his problems would be over. But how?
It was a gamble. That he was willing to admit, but maybe he'd get some results if he did
some private investigating. Massage Parlors brought in the biggest share of the illicit sex
dollar that he knew. Perhaps if he paid a visit to one, it would pay off handsomely in
his attempts to rid the city of the corrupting influences which seemed to surround him.
His thumbs searched for the corners of his eyelids as he regained consciousness from a
10 hour sleep. Massaging his eyebrows, Johnny Proctor made a gallant attempt to stand
upright, but the vast quantity of liquor he had consumed the night before, seemed to
prohibit him from doing so. Finally his tortuous headache took precedence over his
desire to continue his sleep and he stood erect, with his skull pounding to the tune of a
mad drummer.
The cool tap water he splashed on his face was refreshing, yet Johnny knew it would
take time before the handful of aspirin he threw down his throat took effect. Toweling
himself off, he surveyed his dingy studio apartment and lighted his day's first cigarette.
Then, as the silver blue smoke swirled up his nostrils and jolted him back into reality,
he asked himself the question he ceremoniously started each day with. "What in God's
name am I doing here?"
Walking to the apartment's entrance, he knew it would be another sweltering day as he
bent over in pain to retrieve the morning's paper. The mid morning sun, already
blazing, beat down on his sensitive skull and intensified the fire which blazed through
his temples. He quickly closed the door and returned to his only worldly possession of
any value: his water bed. Aimlessly rifling through the daily tabloid and noticing the
emphasis reader's put on human misery and suffering, he thought of his own incredible
story. A story consisting of a series of events which found him making his living by
taking money from the hands of prostitutes and placing it in the hands of a pimp.
The story began when he was only 13 years old and he and a friend took a car for a
tour of his hometown. Regrettably they failed to inform the car's owner that they did so
and he was apprehended for car theft so began a series of arrests that would follow him
everywhere he went.
Johnny inhaled deeply on the cigarette and remembered how strangely his parents
reacted to his arrest. Both his mother and father, instead of chastising him as he had
expected, started to keep him at arm's length as though he were some type of strange
exotic disease. He had stolen the car as a prank, but as his parents became more and
more distant, Johnny began to find his praise and reinforcement from the other boys at
school. In the eyes of his friends, Johnny had become a man. After his arrest his friends
constantly plagued him for a reenactment of the deed and a graphic description of
police brutality. He tried to do well in school, but his image as a daring, wild young
man, full of bravado and spirit followed him everywhere. Many of his friends, most who
were to become criminals themselves within a few short years, revered him and
considered him their leader. Soon his schoolwork took a backseat to his role as a hero
and by the time he was sixteen, Johnny was living up to his image as a hood and was
ready to quit school.
Quitting school, Johnny thought he'd soon go back and continue his education. He
simply wanted a 'time out' and a chance to do the things he always dreamed about. Yet
life in the poverty ridden areas of Los Angeles offered Johnny nothing but an occasional
pool game and the endless stories of exaggeration told by would be thugs and punks.
There existed no one in his environment with whom he could share his thoughts, and
no one to stimulate his curious and active mind. As time went on his popularity began
to fade. He refused to become a part of the drug scene which surrounded him, and
instead of dwelling in his own self pity, tried his hand at a number of part time jobs.
He hoped one day to finish high school and then to on to a large university. But
disaster struck.
One night upon returning home from a job he held at a munitions factory, he received
a phone call from the county coroner who asked him to report to the morgue. Asking
why, he was simply told that they wanted him to make positive identification of two
elderly people who had been driving a late model car and had died instantly upon
hitting on oncoming truck.
Although he had not been close to his parents their death disillusioned him. He had
seen how diligently they had worked to make themselves and their son 'respectable' yet
with their passing; Johnny could only ask himself why. After a number of scavenging
relatives and high priced lawyers ravaged the Proctor's estate, Johnny was left with
hardly enough to pay his month's rent. His dreams of finishing school and enrolling in
college were obliterated and he decided to try his hand in the world of crime.
Johnny's quick mind and amazing physical strength and agility dictated that burglary
would be his first choice. Many of his schemes were very complex and well executed,
but the business was too risky and after less than a year he gave it up. Then an old
friend offered him a percentage of a small neighborhood protection racket, but as time
went on his take became smaller and smaller and so did Johnny's motivation to work.
By the time Johnny approached his twentieth birthday he was living a hand to mouth
existence; making a dollar or two by gambling, stealing and simply playing the role of
the neighborhood flim-flam man. Then, on a New Year's Eve night, he and a friend
decided to hold up a liquor store. They really didn't have a chance to get away with it.
His friend was shot to death in the entry way to the store as they left and Johnny was
caught two hours later hiding in a tool shed a block from the robbery.
Convicted and sentenced to 3 years in the roughest prison in the state, Johnny learned
many things in jail, but not much he could use to make his re entry into society a
successful one. He did however learn that there were both good and bad people on both
sides of the law and it was this knowledge that aided him in his relationship with his
first employer upon his release from prison.
Barker Tibbett was a man who gave huge sums of money to the Los Angeles Convict
Rehabilitation program. Johnny had the misfortune of making Tibbett's acquaintance
one night when his parole officer suggested he stop by the agencies headquarters and
look around. Tibbett was evidently impressed by the young man's intelligence and his
overall aura of confidence and independence. Surprisingly Tibbett offered him a job,
telling Johnny that there was plenty of room in his organization for a young man who
was "aggressively ambitious."
It didn't take Johnny long to see what Tibbett meant. He soon found that Tibbett
controlled the lives of over a hundred prostitutes in every part of the city. They catered
to strictly an elite clientele, and although most of them worked in Tibbett's numerous
massage parlors, some turned a 'number of tricks' on the side. All Tibbett's girls were
carefully watched and were forced to account for every penny they were suspected of
making. If a girl failed to make a 'quota,' or held out some of the money, she could
expect to be dealt with severely. A few of the 'girls' knew each other, but no one person
knew enough about Tibbett's organization to do it any harm.
Having been on the job for less than a month, Johnny knew very little about the
organization and preferred to keep it that way. He had no intention of staying on with
Tibbett past the time he had enough money to enter UCLA, yet he had to admit that
the prospect of making 'big' money in Tibbett's organization did attract him. Each week
it was his responsibility to pick up the girl's weekly receipts, a task which netted him a
clean $300 dollars a week. Soon he would be able to quit and find something more
satisfying, but for now his job would have to suffice.
Continuing to read the paper while he dressed, he noticed an editorial written by a
District Attorney named Aimes. Johnny disagreed with many of the things the article
said, but he did have to admit that Aimes was correct in defining the forces behind
organized prostitution as being 'sinister.' Surely Barker Tibbett was not the kind of man
to be adulated. Yet he dismissed Aimes as some kind of reactionary kook who had little
knowledge of the real life on the streets. Little did he know, as he prepared himself to
make his last two collections for the week, that he would soon join forces with Aimes to
drastically change the complexion of Tibbett's organization.
You fat, little bastard, Saundra Lund thought to herself as she watched her latest trick
bend down to pick up his pants off the floor. He was pathetically drunk and struggled
to keep from falling as he fit his rotund torso into the baggy pants. Saundra was
relieved to see that he didn't need help in fitting his shoes and socks, and she counted
the seconds off before he finally picked up his bill fold. Inhaling deeply on a cigarette,
she watched as he left the crisp $100 dollar bill on the nightstand and headed for the
door. The only thing that mattered was that money the old trick had left, and for it,
Saundra would and had done just about everything.
She hadn't been in the business long, yet she was learning the ways of the 'Johns' she
dealt with. The fat little man who walked from her room was not the first 'John' to
demand something perverse for his money. Some men asked for or demanded that she
submit to cunnilingus or fellatio, but her latest 'date' like many others had subjected
her to anal intercourse and she could still feel the pain from the experience. She tried to
erase from her mind the brutal way in which he had turned her over and thrust his
finger into her tight virginal anal ring, yet she still hadn't conditioned herself to forget
the harrowing experiences her profession inevitably provided her. She tried to force the
painful scene from her mind, but seemed unable to. She remembered screaming in pain
as he slapped her face and started his salacious fingering of her anus and tried to
imagine a job which demanded more from an employee; yet she knew that the only one
she had to blame for her misery and torment was herself.
Then Saundra shuddered in revulsion as she remembered how he had debased her by
shoving his burgeoning cock in her aching rectum. She inhaled again on the filter tip
cigarette considering herself lucky that he had possessed such a small penis. Had it have
been almost any other man she would have been split right up the middle, she laughed
to herself, thinking of the small bump his prick made in his shorts. Now her thoughts
raced to her former husband and she considered the contrast between her well built
husband and the miserable excuse for a man she'd just made love to. Yes, she said to
herself, there was a real man, but the beautiful, 20 year old blonde had to admit that
were it not for Bubba Tibbett, she probably would have never found herself in such a
compromising situation.
Her 'trick' closed the door and left with a big smile on his face as Saundra reclined in
the Parlor's king sized bed and thought of her short, yet event filled history. She flashed
back to her two blissful years in college in her home state of Nebraska where the only
painful experience she encountered was studying all night for a final test. She was
barely 18 at the time, and despite her relative happiness, she decided she wanted to
leave the University and come to the west coast in hopes of breaking into the movies.
She was, after all, a Theater Arts major, and she knew that with her talent and good
looks it would be a cinch to land a decent part and climb the ladder to Hollywood
stardom.
Knowing full well that marriage and a staid life in the suburbs didn't suit her
temperment, Saundra persuaded her reluctant parents to finance her trip to California
with a plane ticket and $200 dollars in spending money. She left Nebraska on a hot,
muggy day and vowed not to return until she had found the fame and fortune she was
looking for.
It didn't take long for Saundra to find that Hollywood was not what it was picture to be
in the magazines she bought at the University bookstore. After months of searching
studio lots and haunting director's offices and tryouts, the only responses she received
were several lewd propositions and numerous suggestions that she made her start in
adult films. She was much too idealistic to get involved with the hard core film makers
and eventually settled on a job as a costume fitter for a large TV producer.
The job was dull and uninspiring, but it did give Saundra a chance to learn a little
about the life she longed to be part of it also allowed her the opportunity to meet the
man she would soon marry..
Bubba Tibbett, an employee of one of the biggest film makers in Hollywood, was one of
the top stunt men in the world. Saundra met him by chance one day as they both stood
off to the side of a filming of a pistol fight between two well known Hollywood
personalities. She had been tired that day and was sipping on a cup of coffee when she
noticed an incredibly good looking man out of the corner of her eye. He stood only feet
away from her, yet seemed totally uninterested in her gorgeously tanned body which
swelled in the revealing bell bottoms and skimpy halter top she wore. His concentration
was directed exclusively on the action in front of them, and as Saundra studied his
leathery, rugged good looks and tall, sinewy body, she guess that he was a cowboy who
got his kicks from watching the filming of westerns.
Finally, as the film was 'canned' and the set started to break up, Saundra got up the
nerve to ask the handsome cowboy for a light for her cigarette. As their eyes made
contact, Saundra knew that the stranger was something special. Immediately she could
sense that he was a strong, yet gentle man; one who'd experienced a lot of life's lessons
possessed the type of maturity she couldn't find in the boys her age. Upon lighting her
cigarette they talked about the scene they'd just witnessed and Saundra was instantly
struck by the way his deep, dark eyes transfixed on her own. Unlike most men she met
who immediately scanned her body as though she were a sure piece of tail, Bubba
seemed much more interested in what she said than what she looked like. It was true
that he'd occasionally steal a glance at her large firm breasts or tight, rounded buttocks,
but he seemed primarily interested in her ideas.
He told her of his award winning work as a stunt man and rattled off a long list of
movies and television series which attested to his credentials. Saundra could feel a
unique thrill of excitement race through her body as they talked and he told her of his
years in Hollywood. He described the changes that had taken place in his twenty years
in the movie industry and seemed strangely relaxed despite the fact that he knew he
was charming the pants off a girl more than 15 years younger than himself. Bubba
could see the innocent vivaciousness of the beautiful blonde as he told her of his past
and as they finished their coffee he invited Saundra to a private screening of a movie he
had recently appeared in.
From that moment on, Saundra and Bubba spent almost every minute of their free time
in each others company. When she wasn't working, Saundra was on the set of a picture
in which Bubba had a part, and when he wasn't working Bubba was trying to persuade
Saundra to 'take a day off and escort him to a party, to the beach or out to dinner.
Those were glorious days, Saundra thought, as she put her classically chiseled features
into a soft pillow and brushed away a small tear which rolled gently down her cheek.
Her mind reeled back to unforgettable days she and Bubba spent riding around in his
convertible in the hills of Hollywood with nothing to do but languish in the warm sun
and dream of their future together.
But soon, Bubba's job threatened to break up their romantic relationship. A big film
producer in Italy was going to make a series of westerns in his homeland and he
wanted Bubba for a stunt man. Bubba found himself in conflict. He didn't want to leave
Saundra, yet he couldn't pass up the unbelievable salary he was offered to go to Europe.
The solution to his problem was simple. He asked Saundra to marry him, she excepted
without hesitation, and they left for Europe, together, in the anticipation of a lovely
honeymoon.
Yet, such was not to be the case. They did spend a few wonderful weeks together as
Bubba taught his lovely young bride the 'art' of making love, but only days after Bubba
started filming his new picture; disaster struck.
Making a perilously exciting jump from a cliff to a moving train, Bubba misjudged the
train's speed and landed between two cars. He almost reached a ladder, but his
momentum broke his grip and he fell to the tracks and was killed instantly.
Saundra flew back to the states in abject shock. Only hours after her husband was
buried an attorney and a man she identified as her husband's brother, came to the
motel in which she was staying. They informed her that despite her husband's vast
holdings in preferred stock, his debts were of such a magnitude that she would be left
virtually penniless. Saundra remembered how surprised she was to learn that her
husband was in debt. Although she never asked Bubba about his financial affairs, she
knew he wasn't a lavish spender. She also knew there was something fishy about the
entire estate proceedings but her misery was so overwhelming that she signed the
affidavit the attorney pushed in her face, without the slightest hesitation.
Yes, Barker Tibbett, the man who had accompanied Bubba's attorney that day, was
certainly a clever man, Saundra thought as she lit still another cigarette. He had put a
fatherly hand on his sister in law's shoulder and told her that he could easily empathize
with her pain and suffering. With a maudlin tone to his voice and a dramatic wave of
the hand, he gave her one of his business cards, telling her that as long as he was alive,
she'd never have to worry about being employed at a well paying job. Little did Saundra
know that Barker Tibbett would slowly transform his brother's wife from an innocent
young bride into a hardened hooker.
Johnny Proctor pulled up along side The Massage de Jour and peered into the stained
glass window which separated him from its lobby. He paged through his collection
manual and found the name of Saundra Lund, the Parlors resident manager.
"Uh, probably like all the rest," Johnny said to himself, as he emerged from his car and
headed into the lobby. "All the broads I've seen this week have been sexually
provocative, but none have been really beautiful. But I guess that just comes with the
profession."
He jaunted into the Parlor's entrance and waited for his eyes to adjust to the silver blue
darkness of the seductively decorated room. When he finally was able to make out the
objects in the Parlor he was astounded by their nature. All the furniture was designed to
look like giant sex organs. Bean bag pillows shaped like scrotums, and ash trays shaped
like vaginas made the entire lobby look like one big sex scene.
Behind the parlor's main admitting desk, which doubled as a bar, was a thick muscled
man with a mustache and shaven head. He seemed to scowl at Johnny's presence in the
parlor and rudely asked him what he wanted.
"Ah, I'm looking for a Miss Saundra Lund," Johnny said nervously. "Barker Tibbett
sent me to pick up the collections," Johnny went on, handing the man the portfolio
which identified him.
Saying not a word, the bald headed man looked at Johnny's credentials and pressed an
intercom button.
"Saundra, there's one of Barker's guys down her for the collection. You better come
down. Have a seat," the ominous figure behind the desk said in a menacing growl,
motioning toward one of the obscenely designed chairs. "Miss Lund will be down in a
moment."
Johnny started to absent mindedly page through one of the many nudie magazines
aligned on a bookshelf near his chair, when his scattered thoughts were interrupted by a
strikingly feminine voice.
"I understand you have something for me. Is that correct?" the voice said as it startled
Johnny to attention.
Even in the poorly lit lounge of the parlor Johnny could see she was the most beautiful
woman he'd ever laid eyes on. He marveled at the fine line of her sculptured nose and
the radiant glow of her tanned and slightly hollowed cheeks. Following the sleek line of
her neck down to her well defined shoulders, Johnny's eyes rested on her smoothly
sloped breasts which jiggled and swayed with every word she uttered. Saundra's
curvaceous hips and firm, high buttocks jutted out from beneath the sheer material of
her dress and confirmed Johnny's initial reaction to her indefinable loveliness.
"Ah, y-yes," Johnny stammered, "I'm Johnny Proctor. I'm with Barker Tibbett's
organization and I'm here to get the week's receipts."
"Are you certain?" Saundra asked sarcastically; obviously pleased with the impression
she had made with the attractive young man.
"Look, goddammit," Johnny said finding her teasing attitude unamusing, "I said I'm
with Tibbett and I've got a lot of work to do." He wanted to slap her face and was
pleased with himself by the way he addressed her until her face dropped its smiling
mask.
"Come on," he said in a soothing tone, "I'm sorry. Let's sit down for a moment and get
a few things straight."
She obeyed him as though she were his well trained puppy, and obediently followed
him to an over stuffed couch. She was surprised and almost gasped with shock as he
offered her a seat before sitting himself. None of Tibbett's other hoods had ever been
polite with her. Most of the people who worked for Tibbett treated her like a common
street walker and many had demanded her services (free of charge), at one time or
another.
"Could we have a few drinks," Johnny said to the bartender as Saundra handed him the
week's collections.
"Ya I'll be with ya in just a minute," the muscle bound man behind the counter said.
"You said your name's Johnny?" she asked as she nervously looked over her shoulder at
the bartender."
"Ya. That's right," he remarked.
"Well, Johnny, I can't drink anything but tea when I'm on duty, so I think you'd best
cancel one of those drinks."
"Hey, that's all right. I won't tell anyone," he said, hoping to relax her.
Wow, this is just too much, Saundra said to herself as she looked at Johnny's young
rugged features out of the corner of her eye. He looked so much like Bubba, and
suddenly she found her interest pick up in the young man seated so close to her. He
couldn't be more than a year or two older than I am, she thought, and he certainly
doesn't speak or behave like the rest of the hoods who work for Tibbett.
Johnny sat close to Saundra and offered her a light for her cigarette, his eyes remaining
glued to her sensuous figure. After a few agonizing minutes the bartender brought their
drinks, rudely setting them on the table with a loud clatter.
"Well, let's see her now; that was a gin fizz for the lady and a double scotch on the
rocks for you," the bartender said.
"That'll be three bucks," he said with his hands on his hips and his eyes on Saundra.
Johnny handed him a five telling him to keep the change and finally a small smile
flickered across the hood's face. He walked away hurriedly and as his egg shaped head
disappeared behind the counter, Saundra worked up the courage to direct a question at
the strange young man next to her.
"Did Barker send you here to tell me Something? I mean is that why you wanted to sit
down and talk to me?"
"No he didn't want to tell you anything, but I did," Johnny said with a charming smile
on his face.
"What?" she asked.
"I wanted to tell you that I think you're beautiful."
Saundra blushed and smiled incredulously wondering whether to consider the young
collector a nut or some kind of wild romantic out trying to hustle all of Tibbett's
women. Embarrassingly she burst into nervous laughter, putting her hand to her mouth
to control herself.
"You must be kidding," she said, her eyes glued into Johnny's the way they once did
with her late husband.
"No, I'm not kidding," he replied with a stoic look on his face. "I see a lot of woman in
the course of a working day, but I've yet to see one as completely beautiful as you are."
"Why, thank you," she said in astonishment. "That's very nice of you to say."
If he had been any one of Barker's other hoods he would just be on the make, wanting
her body. But there was something different about the handsome, virile young man and
she had to admit that his compliment was flattering.
Johnny raised his glass and proposed a toast. "To you," he said, as a wide smile
blossomed across his face and his eyes roamed up and down her long angular body.
"Look," Johnny said, "I just wanted to explain to you that I'm really not like the rest of
Barker's men and that... well... there was just something about you that really attracted
me... and I... wanted to sit down and have a few words with you before I left. I mean,
you understand, don't you?"
"I understand," she said, wanting to believe him, but sorry that Johnny was ready to go.
"You see, the only reason I'm doing this is because I want to go to college and the only
way I can afford to do so is to collect for Tibbett. I mean, ah, it's good money for a guy
my age, don't you think?"
Johnny's voice trailed off as though he were trying to convince himself of his last words,
but then it picked up and he started to talk as though he were under the influence of a
truth serum. He had never been able to talk to anyone before, especially a girl, but this
girl seemed different. She listened and he thought she really understood as he gulped
down his drink and gave her his life story. He told her of his bitterness and his years of
'loneliness as a child. He told her of his brush with the law and how he envisioned his
future. No one had ever heard the story of Johnny Proctor, and Saundra sat in a trance,
listening to his every word, amazed at how closely their separate histories paralleled
each other.
Here was a man who shared something with her, she thought, as he poured out his
years of frustration. She could sympathize with his pain and could see how his personal
losses had affected his life. They were two people who had been unable to master
destinies and yet it was precisely the circumstances which were beyond their control,
which now brought them together.
"Oh Johnny if you only knew how much I identify with your pain and misery," she said
as her hand slipped into his. "If I could only tell you..."
"You can," Johnny interrupted. "Just try and you'll see that I want to hear what you've
got to say."
Slowly, and with some hesitancy, she began, fearing that her new found friend might
not comprehend the words she so desperately had to speak. But as she told Johnny of
her former husband's death and her subsequent life of pain and humiliation, she could
tell by his attentive gaze that she was getting through to him.
"Well, what do you think?" Saundra asked, her eyes glazed with tears.
"Look, honey," Johnny comfortingly said. "It's not what I or anyone else thinks. It's
how you feel that really counts. Unless you can answer that question for yourself, you'll
be lost."
"How do I feel?" Saundra asked herself. It was a question she'd really avoided. Her
longing for her late husband was now gone and she had to admit that the hate she had
for Barker Tibbett was really the disgust she had with herself.
"Well, I feel like a giant load has been taken off my shoulder," she said to Johnny. "It's
almost too good to be true, but it certainly is comforting to have someone to talk to."
The minutes turned into hours and as customers walked in and out of the massage
parlor and Johnny and Saundra continued to talk, the man behind the bar occasionally
poked his shiny head over the bar to stare at the twosome. Although Saundra was the
resident manager of the Parlor, she was obliged to handle customers who specifically
asked for her services. Luckily for Johnny and Saundra, no such customer had visited
the premises, yet the man behind the bar kept an eye on " everything which transpired
between them.
Johnny listened to every word she uttered, yet he couldn't help but gaze periodically at
the creamy smooth skin of her large, firm breasts as they lay half exposed in her
revealing dress. He watched, listened and learned as much as he could about her until
his desire had gotten the best of him. He could stand it no longer and during a slight
pause in their conversation he almost blurted out his suggestion.
"If I... I mean... if you and I..." he said, searching desperately for the right words, "...I'd
like to make love to you," he finally muttered.
Somewhat shocked, yet not offended, Saundra looked up from her drink and saw by his
blushing face that he meant it. Quickly she was able to comprehend it all. He'd
probably never had a steady girlfriend before, and how else could he tell a prostitute
that he cared.
"I mean... I know I haven't known you very long," he went on, "but I think I know you
pretty well and I really like you a lot and..."
Johnny had no idea how cute Saundra found him as he searched for his words.
Suddenly he stopped talking and looked as though he had been deflated by his effort.
He had never told another girl that he cared and he found the embarrassment of
attempting to, very discomforting. He was afraid she'd think he was just after a piece of
ass and that she'd reject him. Silently, he waited for her reaction to his question. He
didn't have the self confidence to act nonchalantly in such a situation and he regretted
the way in which he had blurted out his proposal.
"What's the problem, Johnny?" she asked. "Are you afraid I might say no? Look, after
spending the last two hours talking to you I think I can honestly evaluate the situation.
I may get in trouble, but I know my own feelings."
His face widened into a magnificent smile. He realized he wasn't about to be rejected.
Oh God, he thought, they'd be able to make love. Maybe he would have to wait a week
or so until she had a day off, yet he knew he could wait a life time for a beautiful girl
like Saundra.
"Look," she went on, "I'd really like to get out of here. Why don't we jump into your
car and go over to my place and relax?"
Johnny felt his body tremble, and his mind reeled with the words that echoed through
his ears. She wanted him now! It was all too unbelievable and he sat back in his chair as
though he were dazed.
Saundra, misinterpreting the expression on Johnny's face, turned to him. "Don't worry
about Barker or any of his hoods. I make more money than they think and it'll be no
problem to cover for my time off. I'll simply tell them I worked at night and took the
day off."
"Are you sure everything will be..." Johnny's voice was interrupted by the man behind
the bar.
"I just got a call from a Mr. Pickley, who said he made a reservation with you for three
o'clock. I think maybe you'd better get ready. He'll be over in a few minutes."
Immediately Johnny knew what the man meant. He would now be unable o head for
Saundra's apartment as planned, and the bartender's interruption only reminded
Johnny that Saundra was, despite her radiant beauty, a whore. Yet he really didn't care
what she was, for at that moment, all Johnny wanted was her gorgeous beauty.
His mind raced as he watched Saundra's firm sensuous buttocks move in syncopated
rhythm as she walked toward the balding man at the counter.
"How's business today, Tim?" she asked, obviously attempting to remind him that in
Barker's hierarchy, she had clear superiority over him.
"Oh, it's been pretty good, Saundra," he said, clearly understanding her intention.
"Well, look Tim," she went on, "why don't you just tell Pickley that one of the other
girls would be glad to handle his business. I've got some important business of my own
to take care of." She smiled at him and discreetly handed him a crumpled up twenty
dollar bill.
"But Saundra," he said, "you know old man Pickley. He's your 'trick'. He'll be furious if
he drives all the way over here and finds you've left for the day. What'll I tell him? And
what'll I tell Barker if he finds out? Goddamn honey, you're gonna be in a hell of a fix
if the boss gets wind of this. You know that, don't ya?"
"Tim, I don't care what you tell him. I'm going to take the afternoon off whether he
likes it or not."
Her words echoed in her ears, for she still felt the pain she had received more than two
months before when she had purposely disobeyed Barker and had suffered the
consequences. She intended to leave town permanently when someone told Barker
Tibbett of her intentions. On the night she was going to leave, Saundra received a
phone call from Tibbett warning her that she should reconsider her proposal to leave
since it might be a costly decision. She hung up the phone thinking that Barker's
remarks were vague and idle threats, but as she approached the bus station that night
she was attacked by a gang of youths who beat her and took her wallet. The police, of
course, wrote the incident up as just another mugging, but Saundra knew who had
masterminded the entire thing. It had been Tibbett. He had added insult to her injury
by prohibiting her from carrying out her own free will and stealing the small amount of
money she had made for herself in his flesh factory.
Saundra strode back in the direction of her new found friend and she considered the
danger involved in refusing to play the game by Tibbett's rules.
"What was that all about?" Johnny asked her as she returned with her previously
radiant face now turned an ashen gray.
"Look, honey, I've really got to stay here for a while," she answered. "Why don't I give
you my private phone number and address and you could call me later tonight. Would
that be all right?"
She tried to force a smile, but she trembled as she wrote her number on the back of a
cocktail napkin, and she felt herself unable to control the flood of emotion which
threatened to sweep over her. Suddenly she burst into tears as she clutched awkwardly
at Johnny and sobbed on his shoulder.
"Oh Johnny," she cried. "I really want to go with you, but I can't. You understand,
don't you? You're so sweet, but I think we'd better make it some other time. You'd
better go now," she added, as she trembled uncontrollably and tears streamed down her
angel like face.
"All right," he said, as he kissed her and started for the door. "I hope everything will be
okay." He put her address in his pocket, put the collections under his arm, slipped on
his sunglasses and headed toward his car. On his way out of The Massage De Jour he
felt his desire for Saundra burn hot, yet he knew he couldn't act on his emotions, for if
he dared to, he might endanger not only the lovely girl he was leaving, but himself as
well.
Saundra watched her handsome, muscular friend stride toward the parlor's parking lot;
thinking of the perverse, and thoroughly disgusting way in which she'd be forced to
spend her entire afternoon. She thought of skinny old Mr. Pickley and the bizarre
things he demanded of her.
"All I am is a damn machine for old men who have no way to get a girl except to pay
for one," she almost said aloud. "Oh God," she said, "why couldn't I have met Johnny
two years ago when I was young and innocent, instead of now? A whore selling her
body in a massage parlor?"
Watching Johnny athletically jump into his convertible and start its engine, Saundra
had the instant realization that the best years of her life were going to waste. She had to
find some way out of her situation and she felt the best way to begin was to take a
temporary leave of absence from the parlor, no matter what the consequences. As
though she were moved by bolts of lightening, Saundra ran out of the parlor without
her purse, wearing only a flimsy dress and a pair of ankle laced platform shoes.
Slipping the car into gear, Johnny looked into his rear view mirror for oncoming traffic
when he focused on the figure of Saundra as she ran from the massage parlor with a
frantic, almost uncontrolled urgency.
"Johnny, Johnny, wait," she bellowed. "I'm coming with you," she almost screamed as
she literally ran to meet him.
Swiftly, she opened the car door and threw her arms around Johnny in hungry
anticipation. After a long extended kiss, he pulled back and held her beautiful face in
his cupped hands.
"I don't believe this," he said. "I mean, it's just too much."
"Let's not talk now," she interrupted. "I want to get as far from here as fast as possible.
Please, Johnny, take me home."
They kissed and headed directly for Saundra's apartment, yet neither of them realized
that the moment they left the parlor, Tim, the balding man behind the bar, was on the
phone and would soon be talking to none other than Barker Tibbett.


Chapter 2

The heavy metal locks on Saundra Lund's door clicked as she opened her apartment
door. Johnny Proctor stood back and allowed Saundra to enter first as he followed,
carefully studying the decor of her luxuriant dwelling. He was somewhat surprised to
find her home neat and tastefully furnished with expensive Victorian era objects of an
exquisite vintage quality.
"Why don't you fix yourself a drink," Saundra told him. "I'm going to change into
something a little more comfortable."
She walked into her bedroom, her body a sight for Johnny's sore eyes, as he started to
browse around his surroundings, fastidiously surveying every detail of Saundra's truly
opulent environment. He felt there were so many things he'd like to tell her and so
many more things he'd like to know about her, yet as he viewed the lavishness of her
home, he decided it wouldn't be a good idea to push. He didn't want to appear to be
too inquisitive, yet there was some intangible quality to this girl that really seemed to
stimulate his curiosity.
"Well, how do you like it?" Saundra asked, returning to the living room and wearing
only a sheer, sleek robe.
He didn't answer but instead thought of the countless men that had probably made
love to her in this very apartment. He realized it was none of his business and that her
profession dictated that she must have many men, but still the idea irritated him.
Immediately, Saundra sensed there was something wrong. She walked seductively
toward him and put both arms around his neck as she inserted one of her long, lithe
thighs between his legs.
She knew his penis was still soft, yet she also knew it was filling with blood with every
breath he took. She crushed her lips to his as the faint aroma of her thick blonde hair
filled his nostrils with the burning scent of desire and passion. It had been ages since
he'd had a real woman, and never before had Johnny wanted one like he wanted
Saundra. He took a long, low breath, and gently pulled himself away from her grip. He
simply couldn't help being preoccupied with the thought that this was the place
Saundra did her work and the contradictory thoughts which raced through his brain
only made it more difficult to accept her as a professional love maker. His instinct told
him to take her to bed and make love to her like never before, but at the same time he
thought of the many men who had paid money to screw her in that very place.
"Look, Honey, do you mind if I have another drink?" Johnny said, draining his glass.
Saundra released him from her hold and agreed to pour him another scotch. Her
intuitions told her that he was being reserved for some reason, but she couldn't
understand why. He couldn't have some kind of a sex problem? She asked herself.
Maybe he's just a little shy, she giggled to herself, thinking of how nice it was to be
with a man who wasn't overly aggressive.
Johnny followed her into the kitchen where she poured water over his drink. He
marveled at the graceful movement of her sleek young body, and he tried to remember
if he'd ever made love to such a beautiful woman before.
"Oh, that's fine," Johnny said as Saundra poured water into his glass. "I happen to like
the taste of whiskey," he added, hoping his comment would release some of the tension
he felt in both his mind and body.
"Come on," Saundra said grabbing his hand. "I want to wash off my make up, but I
don't want to leave you for even a second. Would you like to follow me into the
bathroom and watch?"
"No," he intoned blithely. "I think I'll just wait for you in there." His finger pointed to
her bedroom and she nodded her head in agreement and started for the bathroom.
Johnny walked into the bedroom which was tastefully adorned with feminine objects.
Saundra's walls were covered with original works of art, obviously created by unknown,
yet highly talented people. One wall was dominated by a bookshelf stacked with books
by obscure poets and philosophers and he wondered how such an obviously intelligent
girl could put herself under the control of such a low grade character like Barker
Tibbett.
Yet he could no longer think of Barker Tibbett as his mind became filled with
incredibly carnal thoughts. He looked through the corridor which separated her
bedroom from the bathroom and saw Saundra bent over the wash basin. Her long,
finely tapered thighs and full, firm buttocks were plainly visible, as the late afternoon
sun filtered through her nearly transparent robe. His eyes caught her gorgeous breasts
which hung and swayed gently, yet retained their perfectly full shape, as she bent over
to pick up the towel she had dropped. Johnny took careful note of her every feature and
came to the conclusion that never had he seen a woman with such impeccable beauty.
Saundra picked up the towel and her eyes met his gaze as she realized that he had been
staring at her naked breasts. Many men had seen her completely nude before, yet she
found an extra parcel of pleasure in having such a sweet and apparently naive young
man gaze at her in unabashed fascination. She knew he would not be like the others.
She could tell he wouldn't abuse her, but would make gentle and passionate love to her.
"How do you like your job with our dear, sweet and understanding Mr. Tibbett?" she
asked him as her voice interrupted the erotic dream he had fallen into.
"Oh, I've had worse," Johnny said. "But then again I've had better. It's just that the pay
is good, and well, with the economy the way it is and everything I figure I better get
what I can when I can."
"Yes, I know what you mean," she remarked with a heavy tone to her inflection. "I'm
not particularly proud of what I'm doing myself, but I hope to get out it soon. Just as
soon as I have enough money to be independent."
"Look Saundra," he replied. "I've never asked you this, but why does a girl like you get
involved in a business like... I mean..."
"Hold it," Saundra said, now realizing what was bothering him. "I know what you may
think, but there's more to the story than meets the eye. I've told no one this, but what
you and a lot of other people don't realize is that Barker Tibbett is my late husband's
brother! At the time of Bubba's death, Tibbett and an attorney had me sign a lot of
papers which supposedly had reference to Bubba's estate. What I didn't realize, until
weeks after I had signed that battery of papers, is that one of them was a contract in
which I agreed to be Tibbett's employee for a period of not less than three years. I could
have fought the matter in court, but I didn't have a cent for legal aid and beside, Tibbett
threatened to counter sue since he knew my legal battle would place me squarely in
poverty. I didn't want that, so I elected to opt for this," she said, waving her hand
around the room as though it represented her entire life style.
"Why that son of a bitch," Johnny grunted, unable to believe his ears. He felt a fire of
anger build in his body as he listened to Saundra's incredible story. Something about
her sweetness and her innocent vulnerability made her even more attractive and Johnny
could feel his heart beat in heated anticipation.
"But still there must be something you could do," he added vainly. "I mean wouldn't he
settle for alternative service?"
They both laughed at Johnny's seriously intended remark, but the levity of the moment
was broken with his next question.
"Saundra, how, uh, I mean, how many guys do you usually see in a night?" he finally
asked, turning his eyes from her gaze.
This is the clincher, Saundra thought to herself. If he can take this he can take
anything.
"Oh, maybe three, four, sometimes five, but never more than six. It all depends on how
hard I want to work and how much work there is to do."
Wow, Johnny said to himself. She really looks at prostitution as a job. I can't believe it.
"Well, ah, where do you... ah... do most of your work? I mean do you ever come here?"
Finally, his questioning broke through her psychic armor and she surrendered herself to
the emotions which had haunted her all day. She looked tenderly into his eyes and
suddenly burst into a torrent of tears.
"Oh Johnny," she cried with a shudder. "I wouldn't even think of bringing you here if I
had ever had other men in this apartment. This is not a place of business, it's my home!
Please darling believe me!"
Johnny stood upright and gently put his arms around her as she sobbed uncontrollably
in his arms. He guided her to the bed where they both sat in muted silence. As he
brought her close to him she could feel her body relax. For the first time in ages she
recognized a strange warm tingling in her womb and her large, pink nipples hard as
they made contact with his muscular chest.
"I can't honestly say I've ever been in love," Johnny softly intoned. "But if love is
anything like the way I feel right now; I'm in love with you Saundra!"
She wanted to believe in him so badly, yet the maze of emotions which battled for the
fore front of her mind, made it almost impossible for her to reply to his statement.
"What's the matter," he asked. "Am I moving a little too fast?" He started to rise to his
feet as though he were leaving when she frantically pulled at his sleeve and guided him
back down to her side. She had to let him know that she felt the same way he did and
she resorted to the only way she had of communicating to him her desires.
Quickly, yet gently, she cupped his strong, boldly etched face in her hands and sweetly
kissed his lips. This is the right thing to do, she told herself as their lips met and their
tongues started to explore the inner most regions of their mouths. She wanted him and
she kissed him with a slow and erotic gentleness which she hoped would tell Johnny he
was not like the others.
Momentarily they stopped and looked long and lovingly into each other's eyes. Now
she felt she had the courage to say what was on her mind and could reply to the first
honest expression of emotion she had experienced in years.
"Oh Johnny, I feel exactly the way you do. You must believe me darling, you must."
He knew what he must do now realizing that there was no more need for words. He
trapped her tongue between his teeth and delicately nipped on the probing flesh. As he
sucked on her warm, desirous tongue they embraced tightly, almost crushing each other
as the frantic fires of passion burned through their hungering bodies.
With the ease and assurance of an expert he rolled her over on the large bed, his eyes
taking in every inch of her sensuously throbbing body. He could feel his lungs working
for air as the excited quality of Saundra's breathing convinced him that she too was
ready and willing.
"Oh Johnny I want you so much," she purred as his hands lovingly swept over her
voluptuous formed breasts. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone."
Their bodies extended together over the length of the king sized bed and as Johnny
again kissed her his hands sought to tease and tantalize every inch of her taunting,
passion inflamed flesh.
She wanted him urgently and she almost screamed with the desire to pull him on top of
her. She sucked his probing tongue deep into her mouth and her entire body shuddered
with the frantic excitement of his every caress.
"Oh my God, Johnny," she moaned. "Don't tease me, I want you NOW!"
Did she say the same things to other men? Johnny's thoughts raced through his mind,
as his cock throbbed with frantic anticipation. He couldn't get 'the others' out of his
mind, but his jealousy only inflamed his already burning desire to bury his heavily
throbbing cock deep in the waiting cavern of her warm, moist vagina. Expertly he
teased the soft blonde outer fringes of her curl fringed pussy as his hand deftly parted
her cuntal lips. He toyed with the tiny pulsating bud of her clitoris and then slipped his
finger along the shivering pinkness of her wet clasping cuntal slit.
"Ahhhh," she groaned as the tip of his probing finger smoothly pressed up into the
moist heat of the openly spread young wetness up between her thighs.
Knowing she wanted him, the thought of the countless other men she had made love to
was moved back into the farthest recesses of his mind as he fondled and massaged
eagerly at her receptively quivering pussy. And now, for the first time, Johnny could feel
her hands reciprocate as her fingers slipped between his legs and she grasped his rigid
cock. He could feel her desperate hands urging him toward her lusting cunt as she
lovingly stroked his rock hard penis which madly pulsated with every beat of his heart.
His urgently beating cock hadn't even touched her cunt, yet he could feel the mounting
pressure in his groin scream for its blissful release.
With desperate haste he ripped off his body shirt, shoes and socks, his finger reluctantly
leaving its sanctuary of warmth. As he squirmed to complete his task, Saundra tugged
on the belt which fastened his slacks and tore at the zipper which housed his virile
young genitals.
"Oh my Lord," she said when his cock sprang from his groin the moment she lowered
his shorts to his knees. "You're beautiful," she gasped as her hand groped for the large
rigid prick. Saundra groaned with almost a perverse sigh of pleasure as she drew the
huge rubbery head over her naked thigh and near to her waiting vaginal opening. For a
moment he paused, as he teased her pussy and then, spreading her creamy thighs
wider, he got to his knees between them and massaged her trembling cuntal lips as he
kneeled nakedly above her. Now Johnny's mouth widened in an ecstatic grin as he
lowered his hips down and his straining young hardness slid gently up into the
clenching warmth of her vaginal folds. Deeper and deeper he slithered it into her
moistly enveloping young pussy until he filled her cunt with his burgeoning cock.
Johnny could sense her entire body writhed sensuously underneath him as the full
length of his hardened cock flesh burrowed its way up into her awaiting vagina.
Saundra moved in perfect time to his gyrating hips, grinding and writhing her buttocks
salaciously about beneath him as light, almost inaudible groans of euphoric pleasure
drained from her throat.
"More Johnny, oh God, give me more," she cried, as she drove herself upward toward a
wildly waiting zenith of sexual frenzy, employing every straining muscle in her nakedly
squirming body to meet the demands of Johnny's huge cock as it fucked rhythmically
into her possessively clasping cunt. Digging her fingernails into the whiteness of his
buttocks, she drew blood trying to pull him deeper and deeper up into her already
widely stretched vaginal furrow. She arched her hips upward with crazed desire to be
fucked deeper and deeper by the man who had suddenly become such a big part of her
life.
In the back of his mind Johnny was wondering how he compared with the many other
men she had let fuck her cunt this way. Did she act this way with all her 'tricks' or did
she honestly find him to be a terrific lover? His uncontrollable jealousy of the other
men felt the strange, yet very real desire to hurt her, to assert his masculinity over her.
Attempting to inflict pain, Johnny plunged his now massive hardened flesh deep into
her hotly clenching loins, using his buttocks like the weight end of a pile driver. He
thought of his huge cock as a tool with which he should punish her as he rammed
upward with pulverizing force into her erotically steaming furrow of passion.
"Ooouuuuhhh! God, darling," she screamed. "Give me more! Give me more!" With
each savage thrust she seemed to beg for more and more of his cock as he drove his
whole lust maddened self far up into her desire drenched depths. He smashed into her,
feeling the heavy rubbery head banging hard into her deeply waiting cervix.
He felt an animalistic urge sweep across his body as he moved to reposition her. He
lifted the quivering flesh of her smooth firm buttocks by cupping his hands beneath
them and she responded by wrapping her legs far up around his neck and shoulders.
She locked her ankles around his neck and raised her now nakedly defenseless buttocks
up in lewd sacrifice to his ceaselessly pistoning hardness. He fucked into her furiously
as with the fingers of one hand as he spread the clenching warmth of her writhing
young ass crevice, stretching the tiny ring of her pinkly twitching anus. She moaned
and squealed as he moistened his finger with the piquant juices of her wetly seeping
cunt and started to slide his finger along the vulnerable and tender flesh between her
cunt and anus. With extreme dexterity, Johnny kneaded the spongy opening, forcing
Saundra to cry out in ecstasy at the bizarre, obscene sensation.
Then, without warning, he slipped the finger all the way into the warmly clenching anal
flesh as she cried out with the mixed emotion of pain and pleasure.
"OOOoooaaahhh!" she grunted as he forced his finger in until the palm of his hand
was pressed flush up against her whitely shuddering buttocks. He could tell by her
reaction that she wasn't virgin there and he rotated his finger angrily around inside
skewering her anal depths with a frenzied passion.
Saundra could hardly believe the delicious, intensely burning feeling of the fucking she
was receiving in both her burning orifices. Her tightly swollen young pussy walls
clasped hungrily around Johnny's thickly, driving cock as it pummeled up into her cunt
from above and her asshole could barely stand the fantastic electric sensation his lewdly
squirming finger shot through her loins. She bucked and screwed back even harder as
her long, slim legs strained and clenched him tighter; drawing him deeper and deeper
into her feverishly undulating womb.
Saundra's thick, luxuriant hair splayed across the bedsheet as she tossed her head back
and forth. She was totally unaware of anything except the raging flood of lust which
rushed over her body. She hissed and groaned through tightly clenched teeth and her
face was a picture of sex crazed frenzy as she crazily tossed and turned her nakedness
around wildly beneath the rhythm of his relentlessly pounding cock. She flattened the
smooth white softness of her buttocks hard up into his groin and convulsively ground
her hips high above the mattress, trying desperately to absorb every inch Johnny's lust
hardened cock could offer. She was lost! A total subservient slave, now to his every
hungry desire and he knew it.
But now, the speed of Saundra's rapidly increasing undulation were becoming more
than Johnny could stand. He continued to fuck his wildly pulsating hardness deeper
and deeper up into her ravenous pussy, yet he knew it wouldn't be long before the
hotly growing sensations in his testicles below burst forth and gave way to his orgasm.
The arm he used for support began to burn with fatigue and he slipped his finger out
from her anus. His heavy, sperm filled balls smacking obscenely down now where his
finger had been and as he continued to plunge into her gyrating pussy he knew it
wouldn't be long before he shot a load of red, hotly building sperm deep up into her
open cunt.
"Oh, Johnny, Honey, I'mmm cummmmming, I'm cumming, now! I'm..." Suddenly her
body gave forth with the wildly bursting torrents of pleasure she had denied herself for
so long. He hardly had the strength to keep his cock buried in her as she bucked and
jerked on his groin like a wild horse gone mad. Her pussy overflowed with her own
orgasmic juices and lathered up and around his heavily skewering prick, sweltering his
tightly trapped hardness in her burning, orgasmic wetness.
As she came, he started to fuck into her with even more speed and intensity. She could
sense the burning hot cudgel in the midst of her ravenous pussy, yet she was totally
drained of strength as he fucked into her exhausted limpness as though she were a rag
doll. The only thought that registered on her mind was that even though many other
men had filled her with cum, only her new found love, Johnny, could provide her with
the most beautiful 'lovemaking experience' she had just gone through.
Now, although he had only seconds left to enjoy the pleasure of her hotly drenched,
young pussy, he cupped her firm curved buttocks as though they were melons in his
hands and fucked mercilessly up into her tenderly enveloping cuntal walls. Then
suddenly his balls exploded like two delayed action hand grenades as thickly steaming
cum shot up and along the underside of his heavily jerking shaft until it burst free deep
up inside her feverishly rejoicing cunt. He shot deep into her writhing belly as her own
wild screams of joy seemed to merge out in harmony with his own low, animal like
grunts of sexual pleasure.
"OOOooo...!" he cried out as he reared back, almost standing upright on his knees. He
slipped his arms up around her back and pushed her body into his as the last hot jets of
sperm filled her openly absorbing little belly to completion.
He slowly lowered Saundra back onto the bed; she being completely fulfilled and he
being drained and exhausted. He gracefully rolled off her sweat glistening body and
they lay together in silence with only the sound of their heavy breathing filling the
room. They were both entirely spent and they languished in the tingling warmth of
their mutually shared orgasm; Johnny knowing that he had fucked her as well as any
man had ever done, and Saundra hoping that Johnny was convinced she really loved
him.
Johnny turned over on his side and looked into her deep blue eyes. She was the picture
of contentment and before his lips made contact with hers, his mind registered the
words he had been longing to hear all day.
"Johnny," she said in a modulated purr, "I love you. Oh God, I love you."


Chapter 3

A sultry cloud of smog hung over Santa Monica Boulevard as Benson Aimes surveyed
the endless array of quick order restaurants, automotive supply outlets, cheap motels
and the brazenly advertised massage Parlors which were liberally sprinkled between
them. The bright orange California sky contrasted starkly with the darkening sky above
it and reminded Benson that he'd have to act fast. He was customarily home no later
than 7:30 or 8:00 and even though he wanted to do a bit of 'private investigating' of the
city's all pervasive sex exploitation scene, he really didn't want his wife, Gilda, to
suspect it.
Benson swung his American compact into the parking lot of a bar called The Fame and
Fortune and checked his watch. "Ummm, seven o'clock," he said to himself. "Sure hope
I'm done by ten or Gilda will pester me with questions I'd just as soon not answer."
Opening his door he was struck by a blast of mid September heat as he walked to the
club's entrance. He pushed open the tattered black cloth which served as a door and
was immediately met by a young woman in a revealing evening gown. Benson couldn't
help but gawk at her enormous breasts which jiggled wantonly in her low cut dress, and
though she had a bit of acne and a pronounced over bite, Benson found the girl
strangely attractive.
"Good evening, sir," she intoned as though she were a recorded message. "How many
will there be? Our evening's first show is just about to get underway."
"Ah... it'll be just me, thank you," he said with a chagrined look on his face. "I just
want to sit down and have a few drinks," he added, hoping his comment would
disguise, the fact that he'd never been in such a club before.
"Would you like to sit at the bar or would you prefer a private table?" asked the young
girl, who couldn't have been more than eighteen years old.
"Well... ah... I think I'll just sit at the bar," he said uncomfortably. The seductively clad
young lady led him to the large horseshoe bar which was only feet from the club's
stage, and as he followed her, Benson couldn't help but smell the overpowering scent of
her cheap perfume and his eyes became transfixed on her firm young buttocks as they
bobbled sensuously underneath the sheer material of her transparent gown.
"Here we are," she said as she motioned to the bartender and walked back to her
station near the door.
"What'll it be," the burly bartender said, transferring Benson's attention from the young
girl to his cold blue eyes.
"Oh... yes..." Benson said, a bit startled. "I'll have a glass of brandy with a water
chaser."
"There's a three drink limit here, buddy," the bartender said. "Just like every other joint
along this strip. You either get three drinks or none. Big overhead in these places," the
bartender added. "If ya know what I mean."
"Oh yes, of course," Benson said, smiling sarcastically. "All right then, give me three
glasses, but bring me three waters also."
Saying not a word, the bartender started to pour Benson's brandy while Benson
surveyed the dark dingy nightclub. All the tables were extremely small, being able to
seat more than three people comfortably. The only visible objects in the club were an
old juke box and cigarette machine which stood in one corner of the room. The stage
was simply an elevated platform which had no doubt been constructed in haste to
accommodate the club for the burgeoning business of topless dancing shows which had
risen up during the middle 60's. Benson's mind whirled with the number of building
code violations for which The Fame and Fortune could be cited, and he wondered why
the police officers on the beat had never made a point of informing the building's
owners that they could be tagged and eventually suspended from operating until they
made the needed improvements. The club was quiet, with only a few men at the bar
and a party number of couples at the tables. Benson could feel his blood rise to his
temples and his heart pound in disgust as he noticed two young men at one table and
whispering in each other's ear. The mincing sound of their speech was audible over the
muffled blare of the juke box. The entire spectacle of the club began to nauseate him
and he considered walking out when the sound of the juke box was abruptly halted and
the lights of the club's small stage were turned on.
"All right! Ladies and gentlemen, if there really are two such species. Now it's show
time! And direct from her last engagement at the Troubador, here is the one, the only;
Carla Ortez and her seven dwarfs!"
Benson was surprised at the appearance of the club's master of ceremonies. He was a
clean cut, ail American looking man in his early twenties and could have easily been
mistaken for a collegiate athlete. Benson wondered how a good looking young man
could force himself to work in such a dive, yet he was even more surprised when he
saw what the young man brought out on stage.
Carla Ortez was a giant woman standing well over six and a half feet. Her long
bleached hair was a stark contrast to her dark eyebrows, and although she was long and
wiry, she had the most enormous set of well curved buttocks Benson had ever seen in
his life. He had to admit she was an attractive girl in a strange sort of way, and despite
her size, she was perfectly proportioned. As she started to dance, Benson's eyes followed
her every movement, but then, the totally unexpected occurred. Something which
forced Benson to direct his gaze away from the stage. A team of midgets, all men and
scantily dressed in tank trunks, ran on the stage and augmented Carla's dancing with
obscene little movements of their own. The show was a little more than Benson had
anticipated and he turned back to his drinks, debating whether to run out the door, or
simply finish the liquor he had purchased and leave without creating the impression
that he had been revolted by the presentation.
Nervously he weighed the alternatives when a voice to his right interrupted Benson's
train of thought.
"Pretty amazing show," the man said, not even looking at Benson, but directing his
gaze into the maze of liquor bottles which were situated along a long mirror behind the
bar.
"Excuse me," Benson said. "Were you speaking to me?"
"Yeah," the stranger replied. "I say it's a pretty amazing show, isn't it?"
"Oh... ah... yes," Benson said, not knowing what to make of the man to his right.
"Yeah... it's... ah... really... kinda bizarre, to say the least."
"You from outta town?" The stranger who was dressed in an expensive three piece suit
toyed with his drink and looked directly at Benson as though he were some hick.
Quickly, despite the fact that the two brandies and the appearance of Carla Ortez had
disturbed his concentration, Benson remembered why he had come to the club and
thought his investigative purposes would best be served if he appeared to be a tourist.
"Yes, that's right," Benson hedged.
"I'm from ah... Stockton. Just in town for a sales convention. Why, you a tourist too?"
"No," the well dressed stranger said, shifting his weight on the bar stool. "I'm a local
businessman. I'm just relaxing and enjoying the show," he added, chuckling as though
Carla Ortez was some kind of freak. "I guess you could say I'm a connoisseur of the
joints along the strip. I've probably seen every act that's been presented in this town."
"Is that right?" Benson asked rhetorically as the wheels in his mind started to churn.
"Say listen," Benson added, "Maybe you could tell me where I could find a little action.
The company wouldn't allow us to bring our wives on this trip and I'm feeling lonely.
You know what I mean?"
The stranger smiled broadly and ordered two more drinks as he edged a little closer to
Benson. "Well," he said, "I've got the number to the hottest little bitch in this area, but
I'd better warn ya. She don't come cheap."
"Ah, well, I appreciate the offer," Benson said, "but I don't know. You see, I've got a
friend at work in Stockton who told me that my best bet was massage parlors, because
they don't charge quite as much as they're run by big businessmen who make sure all
their girls are clean."
"No problem at all, my friend," the stranger said as he guzzled down another drink and
lit a cigarette. "Just walk out the door, cross the street and you'll find yourself on the
steps of The Massage De Jour. It's one of the best massage joints in town," he added.
"And from what I understand it's operated by one of the biggest corporate concerns in
the city."
"Humm," Benson said coyly. "Sounds very interesting. I think I just might give it a try.
How much do you think it would cost me for say an hour or so?"
Although Benson was not terribly concerned with the answer to the question, he did
want to break off his conversation with the stranger gradually, instead of bursting out of
the club as his instincts told him to.
"I'd say you'll probably have to spend fifty bucks, but the girls over there are fantastic,"
the stranger intoned in a whisper. "I mean they are really fuckin' nice," he added, as
though he had to emphasize their beauty.
"Well look," Benson said as he drained his third glass of brandy. "I've got to be going
since I'm expecting a phone call at my hotel around midnight. Can't waste any time
you know."
"Hey, wait a minute," the stranger said. "Aren't you going to have the drink I just
ordered for you?"
"Sorry friend," Benson Aimes said, feeling much more confident. "Why not offer it to
Carla when she's done with her act. From what I can see, I'd say she'll need a good stiff
one when she's done with those midgets."
"Yes sir, could I help you?" said a balding, burly man with a handle bar mustache as
Benson Aimes entered The Massage De Jour. "We offer the most sensuous massage in
town, administered by the loveliest ladies in town," the man intoned, as though he were
a machine.
"Why yes," Benson said; the tone in his voice now noticeably more self assured than
the one he used with the girl who greeted him at The Fame and Fortune. "I was
wondering if I could have the company of one of your ladies for an hour or so."
"Why of course, sir" the man said. "That's why we're here. If you would just leave a
piece of identification with me, I'll take you back to the swimming pool and introduce
you to our entourage of beautiful girls."
Benson had anticipated something like this and handed the man a phony drivers license
which the vice squad had printed up for such an occasion.
"We operate strictly on a time basis here," the man said, directing Benson to the
swimming pool. "45 dollars an hour for the first hour and 25 dollars for every half hour
thereafter. You can either pay the girl of your choice or you can pay me when you
leave. That's entirely up to your discretion."
Benson was led into a huge room, the size of a dining hall, and marveled at the girls
lounging around the room's sunken, heart shaped pool.
"Simply take your pick ah... Mr. Smith," the man said, looking at the drivers license.
"I'll inform the lucky lady of your choice that she can meet you in room ten."
Benson's eyes traveled over the lovely young girls, many of whom were college coeds.
He knew he was involved in business here, yet he was a man, and he couldn't help but
marvel at the gorgeous young women as they struck seductive poses in hope of
attracting his attention. First he considered the tall, slim blonde who looked like a
Swedish movie starlet and then tossed around the idea of interrogating a voluptuous,
nicely stacked black lady. But then his eye made contact with a girl who appeared to be
of Latin or Middle Eastern extraction. She was delicately proportioned yet her breasts
were full and firm and her hips and buttocks had a wantonly fullness Benson simply
couldn't resist.
"I think I'd like that one," Benson said as he pointed to the little girl who was wearing a
green bikini suit.
The man who had escorted Benson in snapped his fingers. "Veronica," he yelled,
directing Benson to the dressing rooms which were located off to the side of the pool.
"I certainly hope you enjoy yourself," the man said politely as he abruptly turned to
leave.
"Oh, I'm certain I will," Benson said. "I'm quite certain I will."
Benson Aimes took the key to room ten from his pocket, inserted it in the room's door
lock, and watched it swing open with a click. He took his suit coat off, sat on the
spacious water bed near the mirror covered room's entrance, and turned on the color
TV to idle away the moments before his young companion entered the room.
He was just getting riveted into the police story on the screen when a surprisingly
heavily accented voice disturbed his concentration.
"Hello there," the voice said. "I'm Veronica. And what's your name?"
Benson could hardly believe his eyes. The young woman in the skimpy bikini was more
alluring in the dull light of the room than she had been at the side of the pool. And
though he was conducting an 'investigation', he couldn't help but feel his Adam's apple
drop toward his stomach as he looked at Veronica's gorgeous figure. She was a small
girl, not more than 5'2", but her wide spaced, heavy breasts and firmly soft hips and
buttocks seemed to burn an image on his already stimulated imagination. Her long dark
hair was cut in a curly fuck and it seemed to make her face appear smaller than it really
was. Her creamy body was colored dark amber and contrasted beautifully with her
shiny white teeth.
"I'm Mr. Smith," Benson said, as he attempted to catch his breath. He didn't know
whether to shake her hand or kiss her cheek, so he simply let the matter hang while he
surveyed her fantastic torso.
"Could I make a drink for you?" she asked, with a well practiced, seductive tone to her
voice.
"Yes," Benson said. "That would be nice." She made a drink for him and brewed a cup
of tea for herself. She explained that it was against house policy to drink liquor on the
job. Now that she had spoken to him, Benson guessed that she was probably Mexican,
yet her features were more Italian in quality.
They said nothing as they started to enjoy their drinks, but the silence .was
discomforting to Benson who, after all, was there to collect information.
"How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?" Benson inquired, knowing full well
she couldn't be over eighteen years old. He didn't want to appear too inquisitive, yet he
had to start his questioning somewhere.
"I'm thirty five going on fifteen," she said with a teasing little snicker on her face. "Any
other questions?"
What kind of weirdo is this guy, Veronica thought to herself. What's he gonna do, ask
me questions all night long?
"Well, how long have you been working here? I mean in places like this," he quizzed
her, hoping his questioning wouldn't alienate her, yet knowing he'd better get some
hard information.
"Hey, what are you anyway, a cop?" she asked with a tinge of bitterness in her voice
Benson couldn't ignore.
After putting her fears to rest, Benson went on to question her for the next hour.
Slowly, she started to trust him and as she broke the house rules and started to match
him drink for drink, their conversation became less stifled and she started to express
herself freely.
Her father had been an American embassy official in Mexico and her mother had been
the daughter of a wealthy Mexican land developer. She came to America after her father
was kidnapped and killed by Mexican terrorists and her mother had taken her own life
in suicide! And things hadn't been better for her in the. States. She told Benson how
she had dropped out of school after her foster father had raped and beat her. She had
gone to work as a waitress in a large hotel in Los Angeles, but soon after her sixteenth
birthday she had met a man who turned her onto prostitution as a way of making ends
meet. She expressed her concern with the migrant farm workers she lived with as a
teenager and expressed her dissatisfaction with the way they were treated in America.
Now Benson was seeing the other side of prostitution's story and the view disturbed,
him. He was truly concerned with this seemingly innocent girl, who found a certain
amount of release in expressing herself to the kindly stranger who had supposedly paid
for her body. She was impressed with the fact that he had not immediately jumped into
bed with her and she knew that the price he was paying for their conversation proved
he was sincerely interested.
"Who are you working for now?" Benson asked, the question catching Veronica off
guard.
"Oh Mr. Smith, please... I can't answer a question like that. You can't imagine what
would happen to me if I were to tell you. But, let me ask you a question. Who do you
work for?"
"If I tell you do you promise to tell no one?" Benson asked.
"You can trust me, Mr. Smith," she said. "I'm not like the other girls when it comes to
keeping a confidence."
He was a fool in doing so, but there was something so wholesome about Veronica, he
couldn't resist the temptation to get as close to her with the truth as possible.
"Well, first of all my name's not Smith. I won't tell you what it really is, but I just
wanted to be as honest as possible with you. I'm a district attorney and I'm attempting
to compile enough information to put away some of the big businessmen who exploit
girls by running these massage Parlors. Maybe you don't think what I'm doing is right,
but in the end I think I will only benefit girls like yourself who lack education. I've
really got nothing against prostitution," Benson added. "I just don't think girls should
have to give all their earnings to the big pimps who run these places."
As he finished, Veronica looked at him with a blank expression, but then, very
suddenly, she hurled herself toward Benson and threw her arms around him.
"Oh, I think you're a wonderful man," she sobbed as her warm, tender body shuddered
in his arms.
Benson was embarrassed by her display of affection, but as he gently tried to push her
away he again noted the striking similarity between Veronica and his wife, Gilda. The
womanly perfume of her dark skin and the luscious warmth of her full, firm breasts as
they pushed into his chest, awakened a tingling between his legs he hadn't experienced
in ages. Suddenly, without warning, Veronica had become an irresistibly sensuous
creature, and his flaccid cock began to rise as the magnetic heat of Veronica's loins
burned through the material of his trousers.
Veronica kissed him again and again and then sprung to her feet with a huge smile on
her face. She had never met a man who seemed so dedicated to doing something for the
underprivileged and she wanted to make love to him. Without a word she put one hand
on her flimsy egg shaped bra which encased her lovely breasts and one hand near the
thin nylon crotch band of her panties. With a quick jerk she pulled her garments off,
exposing the most gorgeous body Benson had ever laid his eyes on. His mouth went
dry as he battled the conflict within him, but his wife wasn't with him now, and Benson
felt somehow deserving of the luscious fruits which stood before him. The tingling in
his trousers had become a small, yet uncontrollable fire and he knew his swollen cock
needed release.
I'll find out what I need to know later, Benson said to himself as he hurriedly downed
his drink. Even though Gilda had never allowed him to look at her completely nude, he
knew her body was identical to Veronica's. She was just too much, and she'd probably
drain him, but he had to have her. He panted as he gazed at her large breasts hovering
over her taut young belly and he marveled at the darkly curling pubic hair which
glistened around the soft folds between her upper thighs. Her velvet thighs sprawled
like dark syrup and seemed to beckon Benson to taste their delicious contours.
"Would you like these?" she said, cupping her voluptuously sloping breasts and
elevating them almost to her chin.
No longer did he think of Gilda, as the brandy and the naked girl inflamed his passion.
She even looked a lot like his wife yet he couldn't think of anything bu Veronica as she
stood before him, offering him a sensuous treat he had never before had the
opportunity to experience.
"Well, Mr. Smith or whatever your name is, I think your pants are too tight," she said
as she looked at the enormous bulge in his slacks.
Saying nothing, he began to strip; his eyes never leaving her silken, coal black young
pussy curls.
I can't wait, Benson thought, as he literally tore his shorts off his groin, freeing his
massively swollen cock. It sprang forward and wavered momentarily, then twitched
uncontrollably upward, aching for the feel of her soft, hair lined pussy mouth. He felt
that he would cum at any second, but he wanted to wait and let it burst forth up into
the delicious young cunt only feet away from him.
"My God," she gasped when she saw his throbbing hardness jutting our from his body.
"It's so big," she said. "Bigger than any I've ever seen before." She knew she was lying,
and though he was large, it was not the biggest she had ever seen.
"Come over here," he said sternly, a tone in his voice he could never use with Gilda. "I
want you now!"
The moment she was within reach he grabbed her and pulled her to him, almost
forcing the breath from her with his strength. Veronica didn't try to resist but instead,
molded her shuddering body to his, pressing one warm, well tapered thigh into his
crotch and pushing her soft, silken pussy into his groin. Now, for the first time,
Veronica could feel the fires of passion rise up in her own belly, and although it was
supposed to be only a job, she couldn't help the desirous feelings for this strange man
which swept over her.
Benson's prick rested firmly against her flat smooth stomach and she could feel the
boiling warmth of its thick rubbery head as it burned into her soft, sensuous skin.
Small, clear drops of lubricating fluid seeped from the tiny vertical slit on his cock's
head and moistened her body as he brushed up against her.
Veronica moaned as his hands explored her delicately structured back. He slid his hand
down to her firm, tight buttocks and cupped both cheeks and jiggled them, sending hot
chills through her heated vagina. He knew that Gilda would never submit to being
touched on the ass, but the hot little bitch in his arms quivered with furious need as his
fingertip explored the tender circle of her pink puckered anus.
"OOOOOuuu," she sighed as his hands explored the soft, nakedly quivering crevice
which separated her smooth brown buttocks. He spread and kneaded the supple flesh of
her ass, sending sharp shocks of pleasure rippling through her womb.
Now he was overcome with the desire for her and quickly his fingers ran along the
moistly waiting hair lined slit of her vaginal furrow and searched for the tip of her hotly
aching clitoris.
"OOOOhhhh," she hissed through tightly grimacing teeth, "I want you now!"
Veronica could hold back no longer. Immediately she turned away from Benson and
fell to her knees on the bed, offering her buttocks back up to him as though they were a
sacrifice.
Benson, still, sitting on the bed, grabbed her waist and directed her back in his
direction. He knew what he wanted and wouldn't be denied. He turned her around and
crushed his lips into hers as she squealed with wanton delight. She knew what he
wanted and was more than willing to give it to him. She kissed him on the neck and
then started to work her lips lower, grazing his hairy chest and working down his well
muscled stomach. She knew she could please him by sucking on his pulsating cock and
swiftly she worked her face down into his hairy groin.
In his ntire life no woman had ever submitted herself so totally to Benson and he felt
mad fevers of lust bounce around his brain as her eager wet lips softly kissed and
caressed at the smoothly throbbing head of his cock.
"OOOhhh," Benson moaned aloud as Veronica parted her full moist lips and gently
slipped the massive head up into her mouth. Her tongue darted out and massaged the
sinew lined shaft of Benson's throbbing penis, sending hot flashes of pleasure down
through his aching testicles. He could barely stand the ecstatic sensations she was
creating in him as she lovingly licked his long rigid shaft. Her tongue started at the base
of his erect penis and worked its way up to the heart shaped head and then Benson
found her mouth nibbling hotly, wetly at its very tip.
Eager to please, she held it by its base, parted her sensuous lips, and sank her mouth
glove like up over almost its entire length. Her mouth distended grotesquely and her
cheeks hollowed and swelled as she began her rhythmic sucking of his cock. She had
sucked many men before, but she never enjoyed it as she did now. She wanted to suck
him until she made his hot, virile male sperm burst out into her mouth and as her head
bobbed lewdly over his pulsating penis, she could tell it wouldn't be long until she had
her wish.
"Oh baby, don't stop," he growled down at the top of her head. "Don't stop!"
Spurred on by Benson's pleas, the young girl sucked more and more of his desire
swollen cock into her wetly sucking mouth, stabbing it with her probing tongue as she
attempted to absorb it all the way back past her tonsils. The fire in her wetly exuding
pussy was now out of control and she knew she'd also fallen victim to their dually
rising lust as Benson's' hips undulated madly below her.
"Aaarrruuuhhhggg," he growled insanely as the unbearable pressure in his scrotum
reached its zenith.
Benson's tortured, lust maddened mind raced like wildfire as Veronica sucked for the
fiery liquid building heavily below in his lust aching balls. Her moaning brought her
own passionate arousal to Benson's attention, and he wanted to please her also, to get
down on her inflamed pussy and taste her delicious young cuntal fruits. He wanted to
languish his face in the soft silken fleece which covered her cunt and dwell in the warm
sweet security which throbbed hotly up between her lean, creamy thighs. This young
girl, who was little more than a stranger, had driven Benson to sex maddened heights
he had never before imagined and he wanted nothing now but complete and absolute
control of her naked body and he mind.
Finally he could stand it no longer and he lifted bobbing head from his sizzling loins.
She stood up straight before him and wore an expression of complete surprise and
frustration as she was denied his massive burning cock in her mouth.
"Kneel down on the bed," he panted, pointing to the over sized water bed as though it
were a dungeon in which he was about to punish her.
Obediently she resumed her dog like position on the bed, offering her firm young
buttocks up to him as though she were his slave and he owned them. He gave her
hardly a chance to get into position as he stood erect, and lowered himself onto the bed,
directly behind her. His enormous, tortured cock pulsated obscenely out and wavered
behind her defenselessly upraised little anus. But then, without so much as a clue as to
what he intended to do, Benson lowered his head down behind her heatedly quivering
buttocks and spreading the cheeks of her ass wide with a soft outward pressure of his
thumbs, buried his face into the hair lined walls of her desire tortured pussy.
"AArrr," she almost shouted as he shook his head back and forth, savagely feasting on
the liquid delight of her thumb spread cunt. His tongue and chin worked violently into
the warmly convulsing depths as his face became implanted firmly into the hotly
steaming furrow. His chin rubbed hard down against her love swollen clitoris while his
tongue licked and swirled greedily at the warmly exuding fluids flowing copiously out
from her audibly panting pussy. He could hear it! God! He could actually hear it
panting as though it had a breath of its own!
As he swirled and flicked his tongue in faster and faster up into her open vaginal walls,
her hips bucked and swayed with more uncontrollable desperation. She knew she was
cumming and she wanted him to share in the ecstatic sensation which overwhelmed her
entire being.
As if he had known her desire, Benson stopped his frantic oral fucking of her and rolled
to the bed on his back. Like an Obedient bitch in heat, she used his ankles for leverage
and extended herself upside down on top of him, again offering Benson's face the
luxuriant warmth of her passion aching pussy. She felt his hungering lips burrow back
up into her sparse, thinly growing pubic hair as his tongue parted and thrust up into
the delicate folds of her hungrily waiting cunt. She sighed in euphoric delight and
reciprocated by positioning herself between his muscular thighs. Below her face,
Benson's cock twitched in anticipation of her lips and again she quickly raised her head
higher and took it with both hands. Without the slightest hesitation, Veronica ovaled
her lips as widely as possible and plunged the massive cock deep up into her warm,
buttery engulfing throat. Her cheeks hollowed obscenely inward as Benson's cock
would withdraw from her madly sucking mouth and then would pouch outward again
as he plunged deep back into her throaty depths. She joyfully sucked at the throbbing
shaft, licking greedily as every last drop of seeping fluid which trickled hotly from it.
Veronica's tender young lips worked lasciviously back and forth over the long, fully
hardened shaft, and the sight of the eighteen year old Mexican prostitute in the
mirrored ceiling as she voraciously sucked his obscenely jerking hardness, brought
Benson to the final edge of his endurance.
Breathing in short, stifled pants, Benson again resumed his lewd tonguing up between
her legs. His tongue shot out in salacious exploration of the pinkly throbbing mouth of
her pussy and he ran it quickly along the soft, hair lined slit of her pussy and he ran it
quickly along the soft, hair lined slit until he found the wetly pulsing entrance. With
furious speed he thrust the entire length of his hot probing tongue deep back up into
her warm moist pussy and nipped his teeth gently into his desperately quivering flesh
of her cunt lips.
"AAAAhhhhh!" Veronica cried out as the tongue seared deep into her burning vagina,
rotating around in small tantalizing circles and then withdrawing and returning with
rapid fire movement. Veronica knew she had only seconds remaining before she'd be
forced to surrender to an orgasmic scream of delight and the more her passion
determined mind thought about it, the harder she ground the open wetness up between
her thighs down onto Benson's greedily working lips.
Benson was ready now and the lewd wet sluicing sound of Veronica's ravenous cock
sucking only increased the speed at which the fire in his groin spread through his entire
body. Deftly, but with vigor, he ran one hand around her trembling ass cheeks and
searched out the tiny puckered circle of her anus. He knew his balls were about to
explode, but before they did he was determined to perform one last, erotically
stimulating violation of Veronica's slavishly working young body. He found the tiny,
tightly clenched hole of her rectum, wetted his finger on her surging female juices, and
teased lewdly at it with the probing digit. That did it!
Unable to stand Benson's tantalizing touch any longer, Veroncia burst into a spasmodic
writhing that signaled the arrival of her long awaited orgasm. She threw her hips into
the air and with his cock still in her mouth, she let forth a muffled scream of surrender
to his finger's rampant action.
"OOOOhhhh... I'm cum...I'm... cummmmmmminngg... Now!"
Although Veronica bucked and jerked in her own orgasmic delight Benson was unable
to hear her. He too had found the experience just too much for his senses and he felt
the first waves of sperm burst out like an undammed river through his rigid, lip rimmed
cock. His testicles jerked wildly between his legs, and Benson's mind turned into a
crazed indescribable kaleidoscope of burning, churning color.
"OOOhhh, I'MMMmmmmmmmm cummmmiinngg toooooo," he bellowed as the
pungent, hotly flowing cum filled Veronica's voraciously sucking mouth with its warm
masculine taste. Like a giant pump, his wildly jerking hardness shot jet after hot thinly
spewing jet of cum gushing into the young girl's artfully accepting mouth. She tried
desperately to swallow it all, but some of the burning liquid escaped the side of her
mouth and trickled down her soft young cheek.
She massaged Benson's scrotum with one hand and directed his uncontrolled flow with
the other, knowing she had done the right thing by satisfying a man who truly
understood her plight.
And as they lay together, and Benson's penis slowly melted to softness, he realized that
the night had been a fact finding bonus. He not only had been able to get a good look
into organized prostitution, but also received a much better understanding of what he
was missing in his married life with Gilda.


Chapter 4

The morning's sun was already beating down on the long strip of asphalt which was
Santa Monica Boulevard and a thin veil of purple smog perched perilously above the
rustling city of Los Angeles, but to Barker Tibbett it was just another day in his
comfortably air conditioned headquarters: The Continental Club. He sat in one of the
lounge's large overstuffed chairs reading the morning paper when his concentration was
suddenly disrupted by the bartender who handed Barker a phone.
"Mr. Tibbett there is a call for you from The Massage De Jour," the bartender said with
a noticeably subservient tone in his voice.
"Thanks, Billy," Barker said, crushing out his cigarette and gulping down some of the
'Bloody Mary' he clutched in his hand.
Barker Tibbett was a land developer, yet the fact that he had accumulated a vast fortune
without 'developing' any land, coupled with the fact that he spent a great deal of his
time in and around various 'joints' on the Santa Monica strip, never seemed to perplex
his many influential friends and business associates.
"Barker Tibbett here," he said gruffly as though someone had awakened him from a
long sleep.
"Hey Boss," the other man on the end of the phone said, "I've got a few things I'd
better tell you. We've gotta couple a little bitches around here that don't know how to
conduct business properly."
It was Tim, the man who helped Saundra Lund manage The Massage De Jour, the
same man who had called Tibbett the moment Saundra and Johnny left the parlor, but
who had found that Tibbett would be out of town until the following day. He talked
into the phone with an urgency which Barker realized was uncharacteristic of him and
sensed he had very bad news.
"Well, goddammit, go on, tell me what's going on over there."
"Well, first of all we've got one pissed off customer in old man Pickley. He's that old
guy I was telling you about who drops about two hundred bucks a week in here."
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Barker said in an irritated tone. "Go on."
"Well, Saundra had him lined up yesterday for a three o'clock. But that new kid you
hired to take the collections came in here and they got real friendly. They sat around
here drinking in the lounge and then took off. I don't know, they probably went over to
her place, but..."
"Why that fuckin' little cunt," Barker said. "Look, I'll take care of this whole situation,
but right now I'm a little busy, so..."
Barker's voice was interrupted by the pleading voice on the other end of the line.
"Wait Boss, there's more I've got to tell you."
"Okay," Barker said, "but let's snap it up, I've got a busy day ahead of me today."
"Last night a guy came in here and gave me an I.D. which said his name was Smith,"
Tim continued. "I don't know why but there was something kinda funny about the guy.
I mean the name was so phony and he didn't really seem like the typical 'tric..."
"Come on," Barker said, "let's get to it!"
"Well, after he left I played back the tape recording in the room he'd used and found
out that he's a District Attorney who's trying to bust up the organization. I've got it on
tape, Boss, if you want to hear it! I mean, he spent over three hours in that room with
Veronica trying to get information out of her so I think he might be serious."
"Did she say anything?" Barker asked, as he looked around the lounge and whispered
into the phone.
"Well, she didn't mention any names, but she sure gave him a nice picture of how the
organization is run."
"You didn't recognize this guy, did you?" Barker asked, already guessing the identity of
the man who had posed as Mr. Smith.
"No, but I've got the tape right here. I could play it over the phone for you if you think
you'd recognize his voice."
Tibbett had met Benson Aimes before at a charity fund raiser their wives had managed
together and although they took an instant dislike to one another, Barker was certain
he could identify the man on the tape if it were Benson Aimes.
"That's a good idea," Barker said. "Play it."
Listening to the tape, Barker sat in the cool, dark lounge as a sinister smile broke across
his face. Unconsciously he broke a pencil in his muscular hand in two as words flowed
from the tape recorder.
"Tell me what this guy looked like," Barker said, after hearing the tape.
"Urn; six foot, well built... and very close cropped hair. A real straight arrow type. Ya
know, looks like he could do endorsements for a bank."
"Very good, Tim," Barker said. "I'll take care of all this. Don't worry about a thing."
"Okay, Boss," the man on the other end said. "I just thought you'd want to know."
"Oh I did, Tim," Barker said. "Believe me, I did." He hung up the phone with a
resounding slam, thought to himself for a moment, and then picked the phone back up
and started to dial another number.
"Hello," Barker said. "Did I wake you up? Sorry about that! Look, I want you and the
'big guy' to get over to the Continental right away. Yeah, that's right. We've got some
trouble and I want to get to work right away to stop it. Yeah, call him up for me and
you guys come on over here, eat some breakfast and then I'll outline the plan to you.
Hey," Barker added, "tell him to bring the Great Dane with him. Yeah, that's right."
Triumphantly lighting another cigarette, a wide smile broke across Barker Tibbett's face
as he thought of Maxy Ried and his Great Dane, affectionately referred to as 'Sugar'.
Saundra Lund had crossed Barker once too often, and despite the fact that he'd been
lenient with her in the past, he was determined to teach her a lesson she'd never forget.
Barker knew that Maxy and Curly Lambu, two of his best men, could be trusted to
carry out his orders to the last detail. He'd have them over for breakfast, give them the
plan, and the problem of Saundra Lund would be taken care of.
But how could he take care of the more pressing problem of Benson Aimes? Then it hit
him! Sure, he thought. Maggie would love to help him in this little caper. She was, after
all, very fond of young pretty women.
Barker, a tall, dark and extremely handsome if somewhat villainous looking man in his
late forties picked up the phone and dialed his wife.
"Good morning, dear," Barker said. "And how are you this morning? No, honey, I
didn't get back from San Francisco until an hour ago," he lied as he paved the way for
his request.
Maggie Tibbett was twenty years younger than her husband. Barker had married her
for her phenomenal looks and the fact that she was essentially bi sexual and therefore,
to Barker's way of thinking, dependable.
"Listen, honey," Barker said, trying to soothe her anger with his being gone all night
long. "I've got a little treat for you if you'd like to help me with a job."
Tibbett went on to detail his plan for his lovely wife. When he was only half way
through it he heard her say ecstatically, "I'll do it, I'll do it."
"Don't forget to load the camera," Barker said, as once again he hung up the phone and
felt a satisfied tingle. He was certain that this time Benson Aimes would be the one
who'd have to cover his ass, to save his face.
Lying in Saundra Lund's bed with his hands folded behind his head, Johnny Proctor
watched a woman scream in delight on the television screen as she won $25,000 on one
of the most ridiculous game shows he'd ever seen. Amazed at the way she conducted
herself, his attentions were divided between the tearful housewife on the screen and the
alarm clock to his left. He knew Barker Tibbett would have a fit if he didn't receive the
collections by noon, yet Johnny was determined to wait for Saundra until she came
back from the store.
They had spent the entire night together, and Johnny was convinced that there had
never been another woman in the world like Saundra Lund. Never before had he
awakened so cheerfully. He knew that any woman who could give him a decent outlook
at the start of the day was the kind of woman he could spend an eternity with, and
settling back into the bed, he felt comfortable with his thoughts. But then he heard a
knock on the door.
"Well, come on in," Johnny said laughingly. "You don't need me to open the door."
"Don't mind if I do," said the short, well muscled man as he barged into Saundra's
bedroom with a sneering smile on his face.
It was Curly Lambu, and the sight of one of Barker's hoods near the comforting
sanctuary of Saundra's bed, annoyed Johnny beyond measure. Threateningly he started
to move from the bed toward Curly when Maxy Ried walked in the door.
"How ya doin', Johnny?" the huge, numb-skulled hood said, motioning toward the bed
and warning Johnny that it wouldn't be wise to get upset by their presence.
Maxy Ried was a mammoth man, standing well over six feet and weighing close to 300
pounds. His only loyalty was to Barker Tibbett, and being one of Barker's oldest
associates, he'd put many 102 of Barker's employees into their place with a broken arm
here and dislocated shoulder there.
"Well, what brings you guys here?" Johnny said, trying to force a smile.
"Barker wants to talk to you, Johnny," Curly, a short, grizzly looking man, said. Curly
moved closer to the bed and turned off the TV with a short, quick punching motion.
"I didn't do anything wrong," Johnny said, hoping he wasn't about to lose his job or
perhaps something even more important.
"No, Johnny," Curly said. "He simply wants to make sure you didn't make any real
mistakes like Saundra did. You understand, don't you?"
"No I don't," Johnny replied, now terribly afraid that the girl of his dreams was in
danger.
"Well, we'll just have Barker explain it to you," Curly added. "Now, get your fuckin'
clothes on and get your ass outta here!"
Obligingly Johnny went into the closet for his clothes. He wanted to warn Saundra of
what awaited her, but he couldn't create a method for doing so. He could wait outside
her apartment, but Barker wanted to see him now! He knew he couldn't leave a note on
her door because Curly and Max would hear her footsteps on the metallic corridor of
the apartment anyway.
"Say look," Johnny said. "You guys don't mind waiting in the other room until I'm
dressed, do ya? I'd like to brush my teeth and get myself together before I head out to
face the boss."
"Yeah, all right," Curly reluctantly said, "but make it snappy. Do you understand, kid?"
"Sure, Curly," Johnny said. "Thanks a lot. I appreciate it."
Curly left the room with Maxy obediently following. Johnny's mind raced as he thought
of Saundra walking back into the apartment totally unaware of what was in store for
her. Suddenly the months and weeks of fear and guilt seemed to overwhelm Johnny
and he felt weak with a trembling fear of what lay in store for his new found love. He
was sick of living the life of a cheap criminal.
Slowly slipping into his clothes, and allowing himself the time he needed to work
things out, Johnny put his ear to the door which separated him from the mobsters. He
hoped he could hear what they had in store for his lovely Saundra.
"We'll take her over to my place," Curly said, as Maxy sat in a chair picking his nose
and playing with the 45 automatic. "And put that fuckin' piece away," Curly said to the
giant. "We don't need that. Johnny's a good kid and he don't intend to do nothin' but
leave here and see the boss."
"Can I fuck her, Curly?" Maxy asked like a child asks for candy.
"You got the dog in the car?" Curly asked Maxy.
"Yeah, Curly," Maxy said. "Just like you asked."
"Well then, both you and Sugar can fuck her," Curly said as he rubbed his two
muscular, hair covered hands together as though he were anticipating a feast.
Johnny was stunned as he stumbled back from the door and fastened his coat. He could
hardly believe his ears. They're going to rape her, he thought as his disgust and
repulsion with Tibbett's organization reached a zenith. He knew what he had to do if
he was ever to make a 'new start' in life. He'd go to the police and spill the entire story
of Tibbett's organization and bust the syndicate. Johnny knew it was a risk, but he also
knew it was the only way he could salvage his soul and hopefully save Saundra from the
debasing scheme Curly and Max had planned for her. The week's collections he had in
his possession would serve as concrete evidence, and would break Tibbett's entire
organization wide open.
"Well, I'll be seeing you guys around," Johnny said with as much bravado as he could
muster as he left the apartment. "Tell Saundra I had a nice time."
"Sure, Johnny," Curly said. "We'll tell her," he added as a sinister snicker flickered
across his face. "You just get that money back to the boss!"
"Sure, Curly," Johnny remarked as he hastened for the door. "But be sure to tell her..."
"I said get goin'! " Curly interrupted with a gruff shout.
Johnny quickly obliged and sped to his car. He knew he had little time if he were to
save Saundra from the dreadful things the two hoods had planned for her. He jumped
into his car, determined to stop them at all costs.
"Well, well, well," Curly said as Saundra Lund stumbled into her apartment awkwardly
balancing two heavy bags of groceries in her hands. "If it isn't the little 'everyday'
housewife all ready to make breakfast for her man."
Saundra froze in abject horror as she stood in the doorway. Oh no! she thought.
Another beating, or perhaps worse, she said to herself as her eyes gazed into the
devilishly smiling faces of the two men comfortably seated in her home.
"Where's Johnny?" she asked, trying to act as though she could scare some sense into
them.
"Now you listen to me," Curly said as he jumped up and struck her across the face,
spilling the bags all over the floor of the apartment. "You use a more civil tone of voice
when you're speaking to me and Maxy here or things will be much worse for you than
they already are. You understand?"
"Y-Yes," she stammered.
"Now, don't you worry about ol' Johnny. He's all right. It's you, you'd better be
concerned about."
"Curly... I... I..."
Never in her life had she felt the kind of terror which enveloped her at this moment.
She didn't know Curly well, but some of the other girls had told her of his insane
cruelty and his perverse sexual nature. He was one of the most feared men in Tibbett's
mob and despite his lack of physical stature he was tremendously strong and used his
strength quite often to beat up Tibbett's girls.
"Shut up," he bellowed as he grabbed her arm. "Come on. We're going for a little ride."
"Where are you taking me?" she asked; her body trembling as his sweating palm
twisted her around the room.
"You'll find out when we get there," Curly intoned, as a small drop of perspiration
dripped down his nose. "Come on Max, let's get a move on," he said, violently
throwing Saundra from the room and slamming the door behind them.
Nervously looking around to make sure no one saw them leave, Curly dragged Saundra
through the apartment's parking lot and literally hurled her into Max's station wagon.
She fell into the back seat of the car as her head made a loud thud as it brushed against
the side of the door. Quickly, Curly locked the door and headed around to the car's
front as Saundra looked into the carrier compartment and was shocked out of her wits
by what she saw.
Positioned in a semi crouch and foaming at the mouth due to thirst, a huge Great
Dane, the largest she'd ever seen, barked and squealed in frustrated bursts, obviously
displeased with his cramped quarters. His fur was a strange mixture of brown, black
and white and his incredibly well muscled body glistened in the morning's sunlight as it
filtered through the car's stained glass sunroof.
"Saundra, meet Maxy's friend, Sugar," Curly said sarcastically as the two hoods jumped
into the car. "You two will be very close friends before the day's over."


Chapter 5

Max Ried's big station wagon pulled into Curly Lambu's apartment complex with a
screech as Curly jumped from the car, unlocked the back door and yanked Saundra
from her seat. Max unleashed his huge Great Dane which immediately bounded from
his cage in the back of the old station wagon and chased an unsuspecting cat up a
telephone pole.
"Come here you goddamn mutt," Max yelled as the dog, still foaming at the mouth and
running off his pent up energy, obediently returned to his gigantic master. "You follow
us, boy," Max said. "We got a two legged pussy you can chase as soon as we get inside."
Curly and Max both laughed and pulled their captive up the stairs to Curly's dingy
little one room studio: Curly pulling Saundra Lund by the arm, and Max pulling 'Sugar'
with a leash he slipped around the dog's massive neck.
The smell of natural gas permeated the room the foursome entered and Saundra was
appalled at the filth which cluttered Curly's living space. Empty beer cans, and assorted
articles of dirty clothing seemed to be everywhere and the kitchen area was a haven of
dirty plates and diverse pieces of left over food. The entire scene was repulsive to
Saundra and she felt her stomach turn as Curly roughly hurtled her into the divan
which doubled as his bed. Her knee hit the side of the bed and she fell to the floor, but
Curly's surly voice commanded her to re position herself.
"Alright," he yelled. "Get your sweet little ass off the floor and plant it firmly in that
bed, and I mean now!"
Well if that's all they want I'm not in such a bad spot after all, Saundra reasoned to
herself. She had screwed plenty of men against her will, and despite the disgust she
connected with anything Curly had to say or do, she knew she could stand for both of
them to fuck her if that was all her punishment was to be.
"Get your clothes off, you fuckin little bitch," Curly commanded her. "You've disobeyed
the bosses orders and now you'll just have to pay the price."
Her mind went back to her evening with Johnny and the beautiful hours of intimacy
they had shared, but she knew she'd have to do as Curly said. Smiling as she
unbuttoned her blouse, she thought her best bet would be to be as cooperative as
possible. Why hell, she thought, I might even put on a show for these two slobs if it
will give me a chance to get back to Johnny unscathed. She looked at Curly and her
eyes made a mental comparison between he and Johnny. Johnny was so handsome, she
thought, as she stacked him up against the sadistic little man in front of her. But then
Curly really wasn't so ugly. It was just the sharp, harshness to his appearance that made
him look like a member of the Gestapo and she knew if she could keep her eyes closed,
she could go through with it.
With a seductively theatric quality to her movements, Saundra began to strip while
Curly and Max sat back in the two lawn chairs which Curly kept in his studio. She
removed her blouse and leather mini skirt and was clad only in her transparent bra and
bikini panties as a lewd little smile spread across her face. She knew she was turning
Curly on by the stubby bulge in his pants and as she wiggled off her panties and
unfastened her bra, allowing her whitely shimmering breasts to billow out across her
chest, she experienced the wrath of Curly's raging voice.
"You think you're pretty damn funny, don't you bitch," Curly said sitting comfortably
in his chair. "You think you're just going to put on a little strip tease for the boys and
that will be the end of it. Well you're wrong you little tramp. Max!" Curly commanded.
"Tie her up!"
Without a word of hesitation, big Max got to his feet and produced four leather thongs
from his pocket. Max walked near the bed where Saundra stood and knocked her into it
with the back of his hand.
Sudden tears of fear welled up in Saundra's eyes as she helplessly watched Max tie her
arms, then her legs to the four bed posts, and she desperately sought the reason for his
actions. She was a prostitute, and they knew it. Why did they have to resort to the use
of force to violate her? But then it all came to her! Barker had given his stooges
instructions to tie her up and humiliate her, but how they were going to fulfill their
plan was still a mystery.
With extreme care, Max tied her naked body to the bed and occasionally ran his hands
over her creamy breasts and thighs as he did so. God she was beautiful, he thought, his
hand resting on her smooth flat stomach just above her dormant vagina. But she'd be
even more beautiful when she had the chance to meet his friend, 'Sugar'. She'll be more
than ready for me once 'Sugar' gives her a taste of his sweetness, Max thought, as he
finished tying her in a spread eagled position, arms and legs spread wide, and looked at
Curly for his final command.
"O.K. Max," Curly instructed the huge, fumbling giant. "Bring the dog over."
Saundra clutched at her throat in complete horror as she listened to Curly's words.
Now she knew what they had planned and a whimper of fear escaped her throat as Max
unleashed the huge dog and guided him to the bed.
Saundra pulled at the leather thongs, attempting to free herself. She could barely twist
her body but was able to look at the knots that confined her. They were made with a
hangman's expertise and she realized there was absolutely no way to escape. She jutted
her firm round breasts to the sky as she tried to break the leather's hold, but the only
thing she pulled was the skin on her wrists and ankles as they burned with her every
tug. Why, oh why, she almost screamed aloud, would these beasts treat her like this for
one small mistake? It was a question she realized she'd never answer as the sniffing
sound of the giant dog came even closer to her exposed and totally defenseless loins.
"You afraid of the little puppy dog?" Curly asked, his face transforming into one huge
smile.
Max sat back in his recliner and watched as his massive pet searched out the scent of
Saundra's femininity. Obscene thoughts raced through his mind and he felt obliged to
comment on the perverse scene which was unfolding before him.
"You shoulda seen her fuck that tall stripper down at the Continental Club last month,"
he said to Curly. "The horny bitch loved it so much, I don't think she's gone back to
men since."
Both men laughed uproariously at Max's remark and fixed their attentions on the giant
dog. God, Saundra thought, how can these perverted bastards go through with such a
thing? It's just too much. Suddenly the image of Johnny Proctor came back into her
mind. She knew if he were there he'd put a stop to their insanity, but she needed him
for more than protection. She vowed to herself, that if she ever got out of the dastardly
experience she'd cling to a righteous man like Johnny and never leave his side.
Now she was actually screaming in fear and she trembled visibly as the huge Great
Dane lifted his head onto the bed and sniffed at the naked flesh of her wide spread legs.
Again she tried to escape, straining with every ounce of strength she possessed, but it
was to no avail. Saundra shuddered as 'Sugar's' long pink tongue danced over the
softness of her perspiring flesh, his nose pressing forward in search of the sweet smell
of her nakedly spread young vagina.
'Sugar' had discovered the .sensuous scent of warm female pussy flesh and he jumped
onto the bed with all fours to capture his prize. He drooled hot saliva onto her
quivering thighs and headed straight for his target. With blinding speed the muscular
dog stuck his nose into the blonde apex of her thighs and took a strong heavy sniff of
her openly spread cunt, his tongue slicing hotly up through the soft golden curls of her
openly splayed vagina.
"Oooohh God," Saundra moaned and tried to turn her head, but she was so weakened
from her constant straining at her manacles that she could no longer fight. It was a
nightmare, she said to herself, yet every time she opened her eyes there was the dog and
Barker Tibbett's villainous stooges.
Curly watched the debasing spectacle he had created and chuckled with glee as he saw
the dog's wet pink tongue dart out at the golden pubic hair of Saundra's naked young
cunt. Gazing at the sight in lewd fascination, his hand went to his groin and massaged
the bulging penis which protruded from his pants. He was delighted with the way the
dog tongued her helplessly writhing young pussy and he took perverse satisfaction in
knowing he was the designer of the entire scene. Now Curly's mind raced with
patented salaciousness as he took his swollen cock from his confining trousers. With a
wide eyed, lustful expression, he sat in his chair and fondled himself as he watched
'Sugar' lap at Saundra's golden quivering vagina.
"What a stupid bastard," Max said to himself as he looked at Curly stroking himself.
He might be one of Barker's right hand men, Max thought, but he's just a fuckin
weirdo to me. All he wants to do is see her scream and cry, but I want to fuck her not
my fist! Fuck him. He may have devised this plan, but I'm going to carry it through!
"O.K." Max said, getting up from his chair. "Go get her 'Sugar'. Get her all hot and
bothered for your old pal Max!"
Max looked in the direction of Curly, hoping not to contradict his authority in such a
situation. He was pleased to see that the depraved little man was beyond himself now
with his selfish debasement. "Great!" Max said to himself. "Now I'm running this show
the way I want it run.
Max felt shiver of erotic electricity race through his body as he watched his pet
slithering his heavy saliva moistened tongue up along the trembling lips of Saundra's
vagina. He saw her horrified expression and took one of her bulbous breasts in his
hands and began to knead the supple flesh, as the long hard cock in his pants formed
an enormous and obscene bulge. He could see her female juices stream from her tight
little vaginal opening and he could tell that in spite of her fear she was getting hot from
her pussy being licked that way. He could smell smoldering heat building between her
legs and resisting his temptation to taste it, he pulled his long rigid shaft from his pants
and began to slowly stroke it and prepare it for his own satisfaction later.
Hungrily Max continued to stroke his enormous cock, and his mind could hardly resist
his instinct to push his dog away and. sample her fruits himself. But he remembered
Barker's orders. The boss wanted the girl fucked by the dog and no one else. But the
boss wasn't here, Max reasoned, so he wouldn't mind if I jumped on as soon as 'Sugar'
was through. With eager anticipation of that moment, Max played with himself and
watched the warm white juices that ran from Saundra's cunt like a small, but rapidly
growing river.
Oh God, please don't let him bite me, Saundra said to herself, as she squinted her eyes
tightly shut. She waited helplessly for the pain of Sugar's' teeth, but instead what she
felt was a weird little build up of her own desire which rushed to her mind and kindled
a strange, masochistic heat in her loins below. She felt a wave of embarrassment rush
over her as, involuntarily, her pussy trembled and quivered as the Great Dane's tongue
sliced teasingly up into her lasciviously moistening vaginal hole. Maybe, just maybe...
she rationalized her shamelessly rising passion, if she let herself go, it would turn the
guys on and it would all be over with soon!
Now her tightly clenched jaw released its pressure and she submitted herself,
uncontrollably to her uncompromising passion. Her tenseness was gone and her
shuddering torso relaxed and nuzzled down into the softness of the musty mattress. Her
hips and soft arching buttocks lowered themselves, followed by the drooling pink
tongue of the hungrily lapping canine. Gasping with a sigh of release as the wet,
probing tongue swept over the tight, tingling flesh of her ignited vagina, Saundra tried
to fight her wild impulses, but her breath was baited and warned her that she was about
to give herself over completely now to her animal lover.
Saundra, now in a semi conscious state of excitement, knew she was no longer
responsible for her lust maddened actions. Oh God, but what if Johnny were to learn
about this? she thought. What if her were to learn how her body now burned with a
wild flame of animal induced passion she couldn't control? Could she ever face him
again if this perverted bestial scene were to conclude in her cumming against her will?
She would be no better than the animals which now surrounded her and no amount of
compassion would forgive her sinful submission.
How desperately she wanted to believe that it was 'just' her body which was
surrendering to the dog's ravenously licking tongue, but the shame of her unquestioned
sexual stimulation haunted her as she jutted her hips up to meet the dog's warm wet
lingual caresses. She tried to stop the raging urges which were building up inside her,
but she couldn't. She wanted the dog to continue because she liked it! She actually liked
him licking her cunt like this while she lay helplessly tied to the bed!
No, Oh God no, she silently screamed out as she looked down between her erotically
heaving breasts. She could see Sugar bury his nose deep up into the golden triangle of
her cunt and she wanted him to stop. But deep down she knew she wanted him to go
on. She knew it was too late!
Max leaned over the bed, looking into Saundra's eyes with a lust crazed stare. He
cupped one of her bouncing, cream white breasts in one hand as he continued to stroke
slowly on his cock with the other. He bent his head down to kiss her hard on the
mouth as his dog continued licking hotly at the steaming, curl fringed furrow of her
cunt. Max worked his tongue into her mouth, yet Saundra was unable to respond,
feeling only 'Sugar's' wetly curling tongue as it slithered farther up between her madly
clasping and quivering cunt lips.
The big dog shoved his nose deeper into her moistness and pushed his cold wet nostrils
deep into Saundra's passion honeyed pussy. Saundra strained once more as if giving
one last, final desperate effort to deter the dog's ambition, but it was a futile gesture and
moments later she relaxed back into the softness of the mattress and resigned herself to
the sexual forces which now dominated her.
"Your tongue, you hot little cunt, I want your tongue," Max said pressing his mouth
down into hers as he continued to stroke himself into greater rising hardness.
Reluctantly she submitted to him, permitting him to suck the full length of her
unresisting tongue deep up into his mouth. Hot Damn! Her mouth was just as soft and
slippery as a cunt, Max gloated to himself. He wanted to torment her, but he knew if
she was to really feel it he'd have to concentrate up between her hot little legs instead of
her lips.
Fear, the fear of ultimate surrender, not that of physical fear, contorted Saundra's lovely
young face and Curly watched with obscene delight as Max kneaded hungrily at the
soft supple flesh of her voluptuously sculptured breasts. He fondled himself like a
depraved wild man as he sensed that the sensuously writhing blonde was unable to
fight off the lewdly rising sexual sensations brought on by the physical indignities she
was experiencing.
He could see she was like a bitch animal ready for fucking and bending forward in the
midst of his own perverse act, he could see the rigid pink shaft throbbing out into
hardness and knew the dog was ready to fuck the young blonde senseless now. But
Curly wasn't ready to give Max the command to order his dog on Saundra's luscious
body. No, he wanted to savor these last moments before 'Sugar' mounted his victim and
fucked her shitless with his heavy, slithering shaft. It would hurt her a little at first, but
the little cunt deserved it. Yeah, he said to himself. That Dane will fuck her hot little
pussy until she faints. With all that cock he'll probably over stretch the walls of her
cunt, but it was just what she had coming, Curly reasoned.
He'd teach Saundra, just like he'd taught so many other young bitches, that she can't
fool around with Barker Tibbett.
But finally Curly could wait no longer. "Max!" he commanded. "Turn her over and get
her hot little ass in the air so 'Sugar' can fuck 'er!"
Like the ever obedient servant, big Max pulled away from the sensuously writhing
Saundra, but not before unloosening the leather which imprisoned her. She was so
stimulated by the dog's licking of her passionately flowing vaginal juices that she hadn't
even noticed her new found freedom when Max ordered her to roll over and get up on
her hands and knees.
"Turn over," he yelled as he slapped her face, awakening her to the reality of his cold,
bony hand. "You're going to take him up from behind just like any other female bitch!"
Saundra mechanically changed her position while the searing heat of lust which 'Sugar'
had inspired, raced continually through her naked body. As her head left the pillow her
eyes made contact with the two men who still patently stroked themselves, yet the sight
seemed to incite her wanton passion to even greater heights as she rolled over and
climbed to her hands and knees like a female dog.
'Sugar' panting and foaming at the mouth, anxiously watched the naked young blonde
get up on all fours. The big dog's body twitched with excitement and his muscular body
shuddered obscenely as he started to mount the curvaceously trembling flesh of
Saundra's nude, upraised ass cheeks. Max helped him into position behind Saundra,
and the two depraved men had their eyes glued to the dog's huge throbbing cock as it
jerked frantically up toward the hotly pulsating little hole of Saundra's cunt. 'Sugar's'
legs strained and quivered as his red angry penis missed its mark once and slid
harmlessly over the open crevice which separated her two wide spread buttocks. But
then, with miraculous agility, the dog found her liquid scented opening and slipped the
tip of his angry cock head up into the open mouth of her desperately clasping pussy.
"Now you're ready 'Sugar', " Max said with a heavily panting voice. "Go to it, fella, fuck
'er belly!"
'Sugar' was beside himself with excitement as Saundra's salaciously clenching pussy lips
literally sucked his giant dog cock up into the greedily clasping mouth of her womb.
The big dog steadied himself with his paws locked tightly around the smooth
voluptuous curves of her ass and then with one hurried thrust, drove his massive prick
deep into her screaming vagina, filling her with every inch of his hard animal muscle.
"OOOOhhhh!" she wailed; waves of tortured pain blasting through her senseless body.
Yet was it really pain? Saundra instantly asked herself as the pleasurable heat of the
dog's massive cock filled the feverishly yearning walls of her pussy. No, it wasn't pain,
she moaned. It was luxuriant, almost comforting, warmth that sent convulsing ripples
of joy steaming through her deeply impaled vaginal passage and she loved it! Oh God,
how she loved it!
Saundra turned her head around back in the direction of the gargantuan dog and
looked over her shoulder at his straining, quivering body. He had a cock which no man
could possess and already she could feel the juices in her womb resume their frantic
flow to even greater and more lewdly stimulating heights. And she knew... knew
without a doubt, that if she wasn't able to uncouple herself soon from the enormous
animal, she'd succumb completely, uncontrollably to his massive prick which throbbed
and jerked violently up inside her deeply impaled belly.
"Please Max," she groaned, "get him out of me before I go mad, pleaseeeeez!"
But big Max hadn't even considered permitting Saundra a reprieve. His lust bulging
eyes were glued to her desire grimacing face.
"You'd better keep your mouth shut bitch!" he grinned and spat down at her. "Sugar
might not like you prick teasing him like that."
Saundra's eyes flashed over the dirty little room she was held captive in. She tried to
think of some way to free herself from her horrible situation, but all she could see was
Max standing above her, obscenely massaging his massive rod and Curly sitting in his
recliner, doing the same.
Max smiled wickedly as he watched her look around the room and his eyes followed
hers to the small stout man in the recliner, who was obviously near the point of
orgasm. He slid his hand over his blunt, rock hard prick and massaged it as it twitched
and bulged in the obscene, lust crazed grip of his fist.
Boy that guy is nuts, Max said to himself as he looked in Curly's direction. He's got no
intention of screwing this lovely little morsel. He just wants to sit in that chair and jack
off like a 12 year old kid. Well, that's fine with me, Max reasoned. If the jerk wants to
waste his energy on his palm when we got this hot looking bitch here that just leaves all
the pussy to me.
Now Saundra had lost sight of the men and the dog as her head rolled and swayed over
the light blue pillow beneath her face. All her attentions were centered on the hot
searing prick which was now sluicing liquidly up into her defenselessly spread cunt
walls, as her obscene animal passion grew in unbearable intensity with each succeeding
stroke. Now there was nothing left but the huge, lust heated animal cock which gorged
her with rigid muscle. The cock filled her like no other ever had, and as her licentious
movements intensified and her buttocks jutted out to meet 'Sugar's' every thrust,
Saundra sensed the end of her battle to inhibit her animal like urges and she
surrendered to the tumultuous heat of her loins once again. The big dog was fucking
her wildly with a cock twice as thick as any she'd known. The sweet combination of
pain and pleasure melted over her passive, but violently gyrating hips and buttocks and
she knew she was cumming in spite of him fucking her for only a few short seeming
seconds. She knew she had to sacrifice herself up to the dog's bestial battering and
finally the overpowering luxuriance of his penis overwhelmed her.
"AAArrrhhhggg!" she moaned, the sounds of her guttural scream coming from deep
within her throat and the violence of her orgasm blasting throughout her like a sexual
tornado.
Her body was simply a tool now for the carnivorous fucking she was experiencing, and
as her orgasm jolted her into helpless submission, her body became wantonly passive
and she fucked back now to end it, end it as quickly as she could.
Now came the inevitable conclusion to the whole perverse experience Saundra had
submitted to. 'Sugar's' last seconds were upon him too and he seemed to respond like
the animal he was to the erotic writhing of the girl below him. His heavy, buttock
flattening thrusts became shorter and shorter until he finally yelped out in greedy
hunger and shot his animal fire deep up into the slavishly fucking back cunt of his
lovely young human receptacle. He shoved all 200 pounds of his muscular body into his
orgasmic effort and jerked Saundra's vulnerable body around the bed like a life less
manikin. She could feel his muscular legs shudder and strain back against the
nakedness of her firm, smooth thighs and buttocks and try as she might, she knew she
loved the feel of his massive spearing cock as it plowed into her deepest recesses.
With every cruel thrust of 'Sugar's' cock, Curly and Max watched on in perverse
fascination. Curly continued to pull on his short stubby prick, relishing the sight of the
dog as he fucked the beautiful woman to screaming orgasm. She was getting her just
deserts, he said to himself, as he lewdly stroked his cock with his tightly clenched fist.
But Curly's animal instincts had not been satisfied. He knew he had humiliated
Saundra beyond belief, but he wanted more. His breathing was becoming heavy and he
knew he couldn't control his mounting passion much longer, but he wanted to put the
icing on the cake.
"O.K. Max," Curly said with bated breath. "Why don't you give the little cunt a taste of
some human cock?"
A wickedly sardonic smile flickered across Max's face as the sound of his superior's
words made music in his head. He knew precisely what Max meant and it was exactly
what he'd been waiting for. Grabbing 'Sugar' by the collar, Max led the panting and
exhausted dog to the door and attached the leash back on his collar. "Good boy," Max
said, as he poured cool water into a pan and watched the monstrous animal lap it up as
he'd moments before lapped away the sweet juices of Saundra's womanhood. Now Max
was ready for his treat and as he approached Saundra's dormant, exhausted figure,
sweat of anticipation trickled down his nose and made his face a lewd mask of obscene
delight.
"Come on you hot little bitch," Max snarled. "Sleepy time is over. Whores never sleep
anyway, you know that!"
Saundra slowly rolled her head to the side and tried to focus her eyes on the hazy sight
before her. Max was kneeling on the bed now and she could see the hotly throbbing tip
of his enormous cock as it loomed above her face. No, this time it isn't a dog, she said
to herself, as she felt Max's fingers tease hungrily into her softly giving breasts. She
tried desperately to focus on the weaving head of Max's massively thick cock as with
one quick motion, he flipped her over n her back, and kneeling near her face, he
offered his heavy hardness to her trembling lips.
"Oh please," she cried and whimpered. "Haven't you had enough of me?"
"Come here, you fuckin little whore," Max said; an undeniable tone of sadism in his
voice. "You really think you're something special, don't ya," Max said. "Well let me tell
you somethin honey, any bitch that fucks an animal and enjoys it like you did, is
nothin' more than an animal herself. So go ahead you little bitch dog and suck my
cock!"
She cried out her own self shame as she listened to Max's words, but she had to admit
he was right. She had fucked back at the giant dog and actually had enjoyed it. He was
right! She was nothing but a whore who enjoyed taking a giant animal's prick every
inch of the way into her gluttonous vagina. How would she ever be able to look into a
mirror or face Johnny after such a debasing episode?
Then, without warning, Max pulled her head to his groin and grinned down at her tear
stained face. She pulled from his grip with her last ounce of energy, but it was to no
avail.
"Suck him," Saundra heard Curly say in an uncompromising tone of voice. Although
she couldn't see him, she could tell by his heavy breathing that the sight of Max pulling
her lips and face toward his obscenely swaying penis, was stimulating Curly beyond
measure. She knew it wouldn't be long before he spent himself in his perverse
fascination, and she prayed for the moment when both hoods would be gone, far from
her sight.
"That's right honey, just put it in your mouth and suck. Nice and easy now," Max said
with a lewd grin on his face.
"Please don't," she pleaded, but her protestations only brought Max's sadistic wrath to
greater heights.
Listening to Saundra's whining, 'Sugar' barked and growled.
"Shut up," Max said to 'Sugar'. "You've had your share."
The big, dumb animal seemed to want to get back in the swing of things, but it was his
master who would now thrill to Saundra's gorgeous flesh. The big dog stopped
growling when he heard his master's rebuke and simply licked his own cock to soothe
the harsh soreness it had received when he fucked it up into the beautiful young
blonde.
"Oh please, Max," Saundra said, as the full ramifications of the perverse act struck her.
"Please let me go now. Haven't you had enough?"
"Does it look like I've had enough?" Max asked, pointing his long, rigid shaft into her
face. "Maybe Curly likes to just watch other people fuck, but I like action honey, and
that's what I want. Now suck my cock, you little bitch!"
Obediently, Saundra sat up in bed, her wrists and ankles still sore from the leather
thongs. She didn't want to do it, but she knew if she refused she'd be in store for the
beating of her life. She sat in the bed, her back flush against the head board, as Max's
hands moved her unwilling head. He pulled her by her long blonde hair and guided her
lovely face to the huge, swollen hardness which obscenely dangled from his groin.
And as her face drew near and Max rubbed the spongy tip of his cock against her
slightly parted lips, Saundra heard Curly explode in orgasm. She looked over and
around Max's hariy, well muscled forearm and saw it and gave a sigh of relief. At least
she wouldn't have to take on both of them at one time.
She had suffered the worst possible degradation by succumbing to the lewd ravishment
of her loins by the huge Great Dane, and knowing that she would achieve her freedom
by performing this one last act on Max, she closed her eyes and brought his cock
submissively to her trembling lips.
Oh God, what would Johnny say if he saw this too, she said to herself, as she opened
her mouth and took the first inch of the smooth penile flesh into her softly ovaled lips.
The piquant aroma of his manhood filled her mouth and nostrils, but she quickly
became accustomed to the taste and slowly parted her lips wider to take in another
three inches of Max's massively throbbing length.
"How do you like it, honey?" Max asked as he sighed and groaned in satisfaction.
His prick burned her mouth with the fires which roared in his groin. His rigid shaft
started to thrust in and out of her cheeks as they hollowed and swelled with every
thrust. Her soft, tender lips distended grotesquely as she took still another 2 inches into
her throat, and she momentarily choked on the man's enormous girth.
But she knew she had to do it, had to see it through to the end if she was to save her
life... and possibly Johnny's too... so she sucked to end it... sucked to atone for the
horrible succumbing of her body and mind to the giant cock of the Great Dane a few
moments earlier.
Then, a few seconds later, as Saundra's throat became accustomed to his abnormally
long thick shaft, the stinging hotness of his prick transformed into a luxuriant warmth.
His enormous organ soothed the inside of her mouth with the fiery liquids which
escaped the firm tip of the deeply probing instrument. His taste and warmth seemed to
become a warm milk, which she needed to nourish her ravaged body. Saundra sucked
him passionately, feverishly now, feeling the massive cock push even deeper into the
back of her throat. It grew harder and hotter and she strained and sucked to bring the
hot milk gushing out into her openly waiting belly below. She momentarily pulled her
face away from the massive organ and grasped it with both hands. Gently, but firmly
she stroked it in a teasing little milking fashion hoping to stroke out with her fingers
and lips the sweet hot cream she desired.
Oh Fuck, she was good, Max said to himself, as he felt his heavy scrotum bounce off
her chin with every thrust he made into her wetly working mouth. Her blonde, flaxen
tipped head bobbed rhythmically over his long glistening shaft and the sensations
which she created were driving him wild.
Although Max had been the instigator, and she had tried to remain passive, Saundra
dropped one hand under his groin to steady his swaying scrotum, and the other to the
base of his mammoth cock, and realized that she was now the scene's director and he
no longer controlled her, she controlled him! As if confirming her thoughts Max
groaned submissively above her and kicked off his trousers which had bunched around
his ankles and shuffled his knees even closer to her gorgeous naked body. He wanted
nothing to constrict his movement and rob him of the ecstatic sensations which the
young blonde's lasciviously working lips provided him.
Now, with Curly's wanton sighs subsiding and Max's fire of lust reaching its raging
pinnacle, Saundra sucked Max's rapidly growing cock with an abandon and artfulness
she had never before employed. She had him! She had him! She knew she had him!
Max looked down between Saundra's huge breasts, which danced and swayed like
beautiful, cream white jelly as she sucked ravenously on his lust swollen cock. He saw
her long, red fingernails gently scraped his vein studded foreskin and her pink full lips
engulf his thick, hard shaft as though she were attempting to devour him alive.
Max was on the verge of cumming, and as he felt his hardened shaft gently slither into
her warm, moist mouth and his mind wandered off in unexplored sensual directions he
had never known existed, a thunderous pounding at Curly's door brought him back to
his senses. The unexpected interruption forced him into the realization that he might
well have to pay for the priceless treasure of his carnal madness as his hugely
burgeoning cock exploded deep back against the slavishly sucking blonde girl's tonsils,
filling her mouth to the overflow with the hot, white liquid of his sperm.
"Alright, open up. This is the police!"


Chapter 6

Hurriedly parking his car and clutching Tibbett's money and payment records in his
arms, Johnny Proctor sauntered into the old granite court house. The huge marble
corridors reminded him of the museums he had visited as a child and his wondering
gaze was caught by the gigantic index of names which hung just to the right of the
marriage bureau's entrance.
"Benson Aimes, Benson Aimes," Johnny repeated to himself as he thought of the
editorial he had read not more than a day before. "He's got to be here somewhere."
"Ah," Johnny's lips moved silently. "Room 302!" Thank God he had come to the right
place.
He stood near the old manually operated elevator for more than a minute; impatiently
waiting for the archaic machine to take him to the man who could deliver him from the
clutches of Barker Tibbett's evil world. He had to see Aimes now, he thought, as he
abandoned his wait for the elevator and ran up the well worn marble stairs to the
building's third floor.
Reaching his destination, Johnny frantically searched the door numbers for Benson
Aimes' office. Finding it, he entered without knocking, totally out of breath and praying
Aimes would be in his quarters.
A pretty, but not overly attractive young lady, obviously taken aback with Johnny's
sudden appearance in the office, looked up from her work and greeted him with a well
modulated tone in her voice.
"Hello," she said. "Is there anything I can do for you?"
"God, yes," Johnny exclaimed, still panting from his quick run up the stairs. "I'd like to
talk with Benson Aimes right away. He's the guy that wrote this little story, isn't he?"
He dropped the tattered editorial he had saved on her desk and stood eagerly near her
side, hoping to gain swift admittance to the author's chambers.
"Gould I tell him who's calling?" the young girl mechanically asked, looking at the
rumpled clothing Johnny hadn't changed since he'd left his apartment the day before.
"Look, honey," Johnny nervously intoned. "He doesn't know me, but if he really wants
to do something about organized prostitution, he'd better take a moment to see me. Tell
him my name's Johnny Proctor and I work for Barker Tibbett!"
"Just a moment, sir," she replied. "I'll tell him you're here." Her long, well manicured
finger hit a button on the intercom and her voice sighed into the phone on her
shoulder.
"Mr. Aimes, there's a young man in the lobby who says he has some very important
information for you. I think you'd better come out," she added. "He seems a little
upset."
"Thanks," Johnny said, taking a seat in one of the hard wooden chairs which bordered
the office.
Two, three, five minutes went by, and Johnny felt like crashing into Aimes' office with
his story of unbelievable vice and corruption when suddenly Benson Aimes emerged
from his office.
"You say there's someone here to see me, Sally?" he asked of his obviously well
schooled secretary.
"Yes sir," she said, pointing to Johnny in his chair.
Not wasting a second, Johnny sprang to his feet, stuck out his hand and introduced
himself.
"Hello, Mr. Aimes! I'm Johnny Proctor and I work for Barker Tibbett!"
"Come in to my office," Benson said as he looked incredulously at his secretary and his
eyebrows arched to his hair line.

* * *

Johnny sat stoically in Benson's office for over 30 minutes detailing every aspect of
Barker Tibbett's business organization. With bated breath he told of the ghastly way
Tibbett treated his employees and armed with the collection record, gave Aimes the
factual information he needed to make a case against the king of the vice lords.
Benson tried to contain the excitement which swept over him as he questioned the
apparently sincere young man, and he wondered why Johnny was putting his life in
jeopardy by coming to him with such startling revelations.
"Well," Benson said, as he shuffled through the manila folder. "This is very interesting.
But why are you coming to me with this? You must know that Tibbett isn't the kind of
man who'd idly stand by and watch you make a shambles of his business."
"Look Mr. Aimes, it's not myself I'm concerned about," Johnny said. "Right now at this
very minute, a couple of Tibbett's hoods are working over my girl because she wouldn't
obey Tibbett's orders. I don't know what's happening to her while we sit here and talk
about my safety, but I'd like the police to find out."
"Does she work for Tibbett, too?" Benson asked, wondering why a handsome young
man would fall in love with a prostitute.
"Yes!" Johnny said emphatically. "But that doesn't mean she enjoys it! You see, what
you don't understand yet is that almost everybody who works for that bastard, does so
out of fear rather than loyalty. I know that my coming here ends my days with Tibbett,
but I came here to help Saundra."
"I see," Aimes said in a calculated voice. He looked at" the young man curiously for a
moment before speaking. "What I have here would be considered solid evidence in a
court of law, Johnny," Benson said. "But I can't promise you anything. If his empire of
vice falls, you may also fall, and I'm not granted the authority to offer you any kind of
immunity. If you hand these records over to me, you'll be on your own."
Johnny breathed deeply and swallowed with difficulty as he considered the ramifications
of his act. He knew Tibbett wouldn't take his confessions lightly, but his concern for
Saundra overrode any fear he had for his own life.
"I understand that Mr. Aimes," Johnny said. "But I want you to send a squad car to the
apartment where Saundra's being kept captive, I know Tibbett's men, and I know
they're going to rape and beat Saundra if we don't do something about it. I'll give you
your evidence if you give her the aid of the police."
Benson Aimes wondered how such an intelligent and attractive young man could get
involved with a prostitute, especially one of Tibbett's women, but then again Johnny
was not the type to be told what to do. Aimes' mind again raced back to the night
before, when he spent over 80 dollars and three unforgettable hours with Veronica. He
had to admit that she was a very attractive girl and not a bad person, by any stretch of
the imagination. Though she was uneducated, through no fault of her own, she was a
warm and loving woman and stacked up well in comparison to Benson's wife, Gilda,
who was frigid most of the time; and usually she had refused to satisfy him in bed. Yes
he had been unfaithful to his wife and although it had been in the line of duty, he knew
there was no excuse for his actions. It was just that Gilda couldn't satisfy him sexually
in the way Veronica had. Their relationship was based more on a long lasting
friendship than it was on their sexual compatibility and as Benson thought of his cold,
uncompromising wife, he began to see the fascination a young man like Johnny could
have with a girl like Saundra who supported herself by making love.
"You're sure these men plan to molest your girl friend," Benson Aimes asked as he
picked up the receiver to his phone.
"Here's the address," Johnny said with an anxious voice, scribbling madly on a legal
pad near his side.
"Get me the Vice Squad," Benson almost shouted into the phone, as Johnny smiled in
relief and handed him Curly Lambu's address. "Yes, O'Connell?" Benson said with a
definite sound of authority. "Send two cars over to 1231 Seaside Plaze, would you?
We've got a suspected rape on our hands. Yes, that's right! I'll be right over to follow
you."
Johnny sensed his hands abruptly stop their shaking when he heard Aimes hang up the
phone. His lungs expelled a sigh of relief, and he was just beginning to regain when
Benson Aimes interrupted his short lived tranquility.
"I'd like you leave this money and these records with me," Aimes said. "That is if
you've made up your mind about forfeiting the information?"
"Consider them yours," Johnny said without hesitation. "All I want is out of that way of
life," he added waving his hand over the incriminating documents.
They rose to their feet and were just about to shake hands when they were interrupted
by the sound of Aimes' secretary on the intercom.
"Mr. Aimes," she said. "It's Barker Tibbett. He says, he must talk to you immediately."
Leaning back into the over stuffed chair and folding his arms above his head, Johnny
became puzzled with the expression of shock which crossed Benson Aimes' face as he
picked up the phone. Johnny knew there was trouble on the other end of the line, but
could not detect precisely what it was until the graying attorney put down the phone.
"Look, Johnny," Benson said in an exasperated manner. "I won't be able to make the
run out to Seaside Plaza. And if you're smart you'll stay as far away from that place as
possible," he added, throwing on his suit coat and snatching up his brief case.
"What's the problem, Mr. Aimes?" Johnny asked.
"I really can't say, Johnny, but I will say I've had about all one man can take of Mr.
Barker Tibbett."
Benson Aimes hurriedly shook the young man's hand and congratulated him on his
courageous act, but as he whirled to the door, Johnny could sense Benson was more
concerned with his own problem that had just come up on the telephone than the ones
which stalked Johnny Proctor.


Chapter 7

No Smoking read the sign above Gilda Benson's perspiring face as she sat in the
luxurious warmth of the sauna bath. It was a lazy Thursday afternoon and the absence
of other club members made her languishing moments in the sauna all the more
enjoyable as she considered the ridiculous warning sign. Thursday was Gilda's day for
exercise; a day when she walked the mile stretch between her home and the small
suburban outlet of Paso Robles. She characteristically spent her Thursday exercising in
the exclusive health spa and relaxing in the comforting heat of its sauna, doing so to
keep her body firm and resilient. But as she thought of her husband Benson, she asked
herself why.
It seemed that in the last year she and Benson had been continually at odds over the
way she spent her time. He hardly seemed to notice her and he felt her preoccupation
in 'high society' was a waste of time. But Gilda knew her concern for society contacts,
would benefit him also. If only he'd listen and reason with me, she thought, as her
voluptuously naked body squirmed in the heat of the bath. If only he could understand
that it was important for him to know the 'right' people, perhaps he'd have more
success in conquering the prostitution ring he so firmly believed existed.
"Ummm that's a little too hot," she remarked, adjusting the sauna temperature. Her
delicately sculptured hand brushed over the warm supple flesh of her breasts, and her
mind wandered from the topic of her husband, as her eyes met her body's reflection in
the sauna's full length mirror. She stretched her long legs out and folded her arms
behind her cascading auburn hair; the hot vapor of the sauna searing her lungs with
tantalizing waves of heat.
"Ummmm, what a body you've got lady," she said aloud to herself in the empty silence
of the sauna, her eyes running up and down her gorgeous figure. She studied the
statuesque contours of her body, observing the firm, full roundness of her large breasts
and the sensuous curve of her hips. Rolling to one side, she viewed her magnificently
designed buttocks, and the way they so perfectly complimented her long, lithe thighs.
She tensed momentarily, her fingers making contact with the tiny buds of her nipples
which capped her huge wavering breasts, and sighed audibly as a tingling sensation
shot through her loins. The sensation was breathtaking yet she knew she shouldn't
indulge herself, particularity in a semi public place. After all, she reasoned, what if
someone were to come in? But the teasing touch of her hand now overshadowed her
concern with propriety and gently, she kneaded the hardening pinkness of her nipples.
"Oooohhh," she cooed as the sultry heat of the bath and her probing fingers began to
ignite her passions. It's the same every time, she thought, gazing into the mirror at her
magnificent body. It began with her playing with her breasts and always ended as small,
warm droplets of moisture formed at the mouth of her vagina.
Yes, it felt so good, so right, but Gilda had listened to her mother, a Bible toting,
sermon spouting woman, for over twenty years, and believed every word the little old
lady said about the consequences of self indulgence.
But her mother's words were drowned out at the moment as Gilda's hand moved down
her long narrow waist and teased the glistening pubic hair between her thighs. The
sensations were wondrous, yet she couldn't understand how her husband, Benson,
could get so outrageously turned on when they made love. He always seemed to be
consumed in a frantic animal desire when they had intercourse. And as she tenderly
touched her throbbing vagina, she wished her husband would exercise some restraint
when they engaged in coitus.
Gilda's fingers searched out her delicate vaginal lips which were buried under the soft
feminine curls of pubic hair, while one hand continued to knead her heaving breast.
She remembered the way Benson's hairy body always seemed coarse as he made violent
love to her and wished he would act more civilized. "If he would just be gentle," she
thought, "maybe I might enjoy it too." Her eyes closed tightly with her last mental
reflection and her finger wormed its way into the trembling lips of her vagina.
Never before had Gilda taken such liberty with herself and the fact that she was
fingering herself in a place where she could easily be discovered seemed to add to her
excitement. In the past her mother's words had always intervened and put an end to
her selfish ministrations, but this time her fingers wandered between her thighs and her
mind blocked out her mother's archaic warning. Gilda's body shuddered with desire as
her vagina slowly foamed with excitement. She vaguely remembered years before, when
her fingers slid over the quivering bud of her clitoris and she'd felt the fire of her loins
reach mammoth proportions, but as she opened her eyes and brought herself back to
her senses, she knew she couldn't let it happen again. Her body started to shake in
small convulsive spasms, but her mind screamed out with guilt. She knew she still had
the power to stop, and tried desperately to do so.
She stopped her finger as quickly as she had started. Pulling her hand from the warmth
of her trembling vagina, she sighed; the embers of her passion still smoldering up
between her young, yearning thighs.
Her unbearable frustration flooded her senses and Gilda knew she had to do something
to relieve her urges. Quickly she stood erect, her large breasts wavering in the delicious
heat of the sauna. She slipped into her nylon bikini panties and filled the egg shaped
cup of her matching bikini top with her huge, jiggling breasts. The whirlpool, she
thought! That's what I need to take away this obscene ache from my body! Her towel
over her shoulder, she opened the sauna's door as it billowed out waves of light, misty
steam, and headed for the comfort of the whirlpool.
The pool was vacant except for two small children. Gilda gingerly lowered herself into
its steamy heat; the swirling water slapping up against the side of her white, firm
buttocks as they strained against the black nylon material of her panties. Waves of
comforting pleasure surged between her thighs and engulfed her bulbous breasts and
she watched them rise and fall to the water line as though they kept time to some
distant rhythm.
"Oh God," she said to herself. "I'm a mature woman and I have to look for satisfaction
in a health spa. My husband spends his days chasing after prostitutes and I spend mine
in a swirling tub of water. There's something perverse in this arrangement!"
Her husband once again began to invade her thoughts and Gilda tried to picture the
kind of women he seemed so bent on rehabilitating. I wonder what whores look like,
she thought, envisioning sleazy painted women in outrageous clothing, strutting around
in seductive fashion. Gilda shivered in disgust just imagining them. Being sexually
violated by literally thousands of men was something Gilda found unbelievable. What
could force a woman to do such a thing? "I have enough trouble tolerating one man.
How could those depraved women permit countless numbers of men to violate their
bodies?"
Gilda was totally repulsed by the entire subject, but though she tried, she couldn't seem
to keep her mind from lingering on prostitution. A whore's sexual orientation is
flabbergasting, she thought, but the fact that most of them give their money to other
men, simply seemed to defy any type of logic. What kind of man would take money
from a prostitute? Gilda asked herself. Certainly a pimp is the lowest type of humanity,
she continued, and that was precisely the reasoning she used with Benson when she
discussed prostitution with him.
Her husband was a fool to believe that a fine, upstanding man, like Barker Tibbett,
could have anything to do with common whores. After all, she concluded, if someone
even uttered such a thing, they'd be accusing Tibbett of being nothing more than a
'pimp' and that supposition was ludicrous.
These thoughts raced around her mind while the soothing warmth of the pool pulsed
over her womanly torso. She knew, without any doubt, that her husband was barking
up the wrong tree. And lying in the luxuriance of the swirling water, Gilda knew he'd
better find another one to bark up before he made a big mistake and totally alienated
Barker Tibbett.
The sparkling gray Mercedes Benz was parked illegally outside the exclusive health spa
as Barker and Maggie Tibbett laughed uproariously as they played the tape recording
Barker had taken from The Massage de Jour. The early afternoon sun beat down on the
roof of the air conditioned automobile as its occupants amused themselves and waited
for Gilda Aimes to begin her long trek home.
"Are you sure she's in there?" Barker asked his lovely wife, as he nervously looked at
his watch. "I hope to hell you know what you're talking about."
"Don't worry, Honey," Maggie Tibbett said to her husband. "I'm one of her best
friends, remember?"
They both laughed again as Barker lit his wife's cigarette and admired her lovely figure.
She was a handsome woman with strong, classically chiseled facial features and a
tanned and athletic body which attested to her love for tennis. Her legs were long and
well tapered and although her hips were narrow and her buttocks small, her large heavy
breasts made it apparent that she was all woman.
"I hope so," Barker said responding to her statement. "I want to make sure we don't
have any trouble getting her into the car." As he finished his Mast words, Gilda Aimes
emerged from the health spa wearing only a halter and tight pair of capri pants. Her
platform shoes made her appear taller than she was and immediately recognizing the
Tibbett's car, she walked toward it go greet them.
"Well, well, funny meeting you here, I'm surprised," Maggie Tibbett said rolling down
the window of the car and smiling radiantly. "I didn't know you came to the spa in the
afternoon."
"Hello Mr. Tibbett," Gilda said with her gaze upon Maggie. "Ya I come down in the
morning on Tuesdays and Thursdays," Gilda said. "Simply because I've got nothing
better to do Until Benson gets home."
"Well listen honey," Maggie said. "Why don't you come with Barker and I? We're just
going to hang around the pool today and sip some gin. I just heard some guy on the
radio say it was going to reach 90 degrees today."
Gilda really didn't know Maggie well enough to lunge into an acceptance, but Gilda
reasoned it wouldn't harm anything to agree.
"Well..." Gilda said, "I don't know, uhh..."
"Oh come on," Barket bellowed, interrupting her in mid sentence. "You'll love it.
You've never been to our place have you?"
The truth was that Gilda hadn't, and she didn't feel she knew the Tibbett's well enough
to spend the afternoon at their home, yet she felt a latent bitterness well up within her.
A bitterness formed by Benson's constant neglect, and Gilda felt she owed it to herself
to solidify her relationship with the Tibbett's.
"O.K. I guess it would be all right," she said, as Maggie opened the door to the back of
the cool and comfortable car.
"Great!" Maggie said as her husband sped away from the curb just as he was about to
be ticketed. "I'll bet the son of a bitch is madder than hell," Tibbett laughed as he lit a
cigarette and referred to the motorcycle 'flat foot' who had just barely missed his man.
Both Barker and Maggie laughed now as Gilda and Barker automatically locked all the
car's door by means of a switch near the radio.
"Probably a safety precaution," Gilda said to herself, as she was stunned into silence by
the way Barker Tibbett referred to the policeman. Although she had only met him
socially, he presented a far different picture to her than she seen before, and as the
threesome drove on to the Tibbetts' home, Gilda became concerned with the nervous
glances both Mr. and Mrs. Tibbett shot through the windows of the car as it left the
busy main street of Paso Robles.
Gilda sat near the edge of the Tibbetts' brilliant blue pool, the surroundings of which
were covered by thick, luxuriant carpeting. She relaxed on a comfortable double sized
reclining lounge, and still thirsty from her stay in the sauna, gulped down the second
drink which Barker Tibbett had made for her.
The Tibbetts sat near a portable executive stand which Barker seemed to take much
pride in. It was a large mahogany desk on wheels which Barker could push or pull to
any part of the pool's surface he desired.
Gilda was impressed with the huge, totally secluded house, Maggie and Barker Tibbett
called home. If only Benson had stayed in private practice, Gilda thought, we'd have a
home this size and with an Olympic size swimming pool, instead of the tiny one we've
got.
The drink she rapidly swallowed made Gilda much more relaxed than she'd been on
the ride to Tibbett's house. The Tibbetts' hadn't said much during the drive and had
been extremely nervous and fidgety. On several occasions, Gilda had noticed Barker
look at his watch and had seen Maggie anxiously cram a tape recorder into her purse as
though she were hiding it from someone. Their behavior had seemed very strange, and
Gilda found something about their actions very mysterious.
But now, as she sipped the icy liquor, she had to admit that things seemed different. In
fact, things seemed very different. She didn't feel ill, but her entire perspective seemed
to change as though she were out of focus, as she continued to drink the contents of
the glass in her hand. For some reason the delicious tingling Gilda had experienced in
her body earlier that morning, was returning to haunt her, and she became somewhat
frightened with the sudden change in her she was experiencing.
"What did you say you called this drink?" Gilda asked Barker as his wife mysteriously
left the patio and returned to the huge, ranch style house.
The threesome had been discussing some trivial topic which really didn't interest Gilda,
before she asked the question, but now as Barker answered it, Gilda knew there was
something strange about the situation in which she found herself.
"I call it 'pink pussy', " Barker said menacingly. "You see my dear, I simply pour a
small portion of sloe gin and mix it with some 'Spanish Fly,' and I've got a 'gin fl..."
"What... What's Spanish Fly?" Gilda asked; her voice audibly trembling.
"You'll find out, Mrs. Aimes. Just give it a few more minutes to work on that sweet
little body of yours," Barker said in a threateningly tone. "In the meantime," he went
on, "I've got something here I'd like you to listen to. It's a tape recording of your
husband. I'd like you to get an idea of just what a hypocritical bastard he really is."
What in God's name was happening, Gilda thought as she saw Barker pull out the tape
recorder, that Maggie had shoved in her purse. With a sudden and violent jolt, Gilda's
head jerked forward to the recorder as she recognized her husband's voice. He was
terribly excited about something, and he wasn't alone, Gilda thought, as she listened to
the tape.
"Veronica is the girl's name," Barker said with a knowing grin on his face. "Your
righteous husband spent 3 or 4 hours with her just the other night. Listen to what he
had to say."
Gilda shuddered in sudden shock as the drink in her hand took effect and the words
On the tape recorder struck her ears at almost the same moment.
"Ahhhhh," the Mexican girl squealed. "You're so big. Give me more, give me more."
Gilda's eyes filled with tears as Benson's unmistakable baritone voice dominated the
tape.
"Oh, Veronica, baby, suck it, suck my cock... suck it."
It was too terribly surreal for Gilda to believe. Her own husband visiting prostitutes
simply to satisfy his animal lust. That bastard! Why couldn't he come to me? That other
woman, whoever she was, was going to put Benson's cock in her mouth, Gilda realized.
Then it all hit her! Benson was seeing prostitutes simply because she, his wife, had been
unwilling to commit the same perverse and foul acts!
What kind of depraved, maniac animal had she married? Gilda wondered. What was it
that had gone so wrong in their marriage? she said to herself, listening to her husband's
guttural groaning, as her imagination painted a lurid picture of the scene depicted on
the tape.
Yet Gilda convinced herself that the important question was why Barker Tibbett was
tormenting her with all this and how had he come to possess the tape?
"Well," Tibbett's voice broke in, "what do you think of your precious husband now?"
"This whole thing is rigged!" she cried. "That can't be Ben," she wailed, pointing her
finger at the recording. But she couldn't even convince herself.
"I know your husband's a weird son of a bitch," Barker went on, making no attempt to
be civil or disguise his contempt for Benson Aimes. "But I can't see why he'd pay good
money to fuck a whore when he's got a fine piece of ass like you around the house."
"How dare you talk to a lady like that," Gilda exclaimed, her face red with outrage.
"You won't be a lady long," Barker laughed as the blood rushed to Gilda's temples, and
she fell back in the large double sized vinyl recliner.
What's happening to me? she thought, as her world took on a plastic, prefabricated
appearance. Her head started to spin and Barker's droning tormenting voice seemed to
blend in with the rasping sound of the tape recording. Gilda detected Veronica's lewd
voice and she felt revulsion in hearing the Mexican girl beg Benson to lick her up
between her legs.
But even though her upbringing told her she was wrong, Gilda's instincts seemed to
take over at this point, and suddenly the erotic ramblings of the tape triggered a nerve
up between Gilda's own slim, well formed young thighs. She could feel warm,
tantalizingly moist and viscous liquid as it seeped out from her suddenly unexplainably
pulsating pussy and covered the pink soft lips of her vaginal crevice. She closed her eyes
and suddenly as the tape droned on and on she could picture Benson kneeling between
her own legs and could feel his tongue agonizingly slither over her aching clitoral bud.
Though her body was rapidly building to a strange, and unexplainable pinnacle of
erotic bliss, her concentration on the imaginary scene was rudely interrupted by the soft
feminine hand which from out of nowhere touched her thigh.
"Come on now honey, I think it's time we get started, don't you agree?" inquired
Maggie Tibbett as her husband sat in his recliner with a huge grin on his face.
Gilda was shocked out of her senses as she opened her eyes and viewed the lewdly
protruding object which dangled before her face. The drug she had taken was now in
effect and everything Gilda looked at was slightly distorted, but the sight before her
eyes was more than distortion. It was absolute perversion!
Maggie Tibbett stood before Gilda Benson, completely naked except for an obscene
instrument buckled around her waist. It took her a few seconds to realize what the
instrument was, but when she clearly saw it, Gilda reeled in surprise and shock as she
viewed her friend and the lustful little look on her face. Strapped around Maggie's thin
almost boyish waist, was a heavy belt connected to a huge, tottering rubbery dildo.
Gilda was awed with the strange juxtaposition between Maggie's shapely, well formed
feminine breasts and the lewd male" dildo hanging between her lithe, smooth skinned
thighs.
"What are you going to do?" Gilda whispered in sudden fear, her eyes searching for
Barker Tibbett in her drug induced haze. "Have you two gone crazy?" she added.
"No," Gilda heard Tibbett bark harshly. "But you'll be the one who's crazy in a few
more minutes. Or should I say sex crazy."
Now Gilda understood. Now she clearly saw their intentions. They had drugged her
and they were going to take advantage of her scattered mind by forcing her to submit to
obscene sexual acts. No, God, they couldn't do this to her! She was a lady, not some
common whore off the streets. She wouldn't tolerate being debased by the two people
that hovered over her.
"If you lay a hand on me," she screamed, "my husband will see to it that you're locked
up behind bars!"
"The only thing your husband is going to see," Barker growled, "is my wife fucking you
silly with that hunk of rubber on her waist."
He took the phone off his portable executive stand, pulled a note card from his pocket,
and dialed the number he read on the card. Gilda's attentions, although badly out of
alignment, were now directed entirely on Barker Tibbett as he dialed the phone number
in his hand. She hadn't even felt Maggie Tibbett put her hand down on her well
contoured thigh and massage the soft, supple flesh with feminine expertise.
"Hello," Barker said with a muffled voice. "Is Mr. Benson Aimes there? Yes... well tell
him Barker Tibbett is calling."
Gilda watched as a monstrous snicker grew on Tibbett's face as he waited for Benson
Aimes to come to the phone. But then she was stricken by the blinding white light of
the drug's secondary stages and she fell back on the recliner in a virtual coma of slowly
growing heat within her.
"Hello, Mr. Aimes," Barker said in a businesslike manner. "This is your old friend
Barker Tibbett. Uh ah, say, your wife is at my house and we're just sitting around here
listening to tape recordings and I was wondering if you'd like to stop by for a drink and
join us. Oh, you're too busy? Well I thought since you liked to spend so much time in
whore houses you might want to come by and listen to a tape I confiscated from The
Massage de Jour on Santa Monica Boulevard!"
Barker heard a muffled silence and quickly handed his wife the phone. Maggie bent
over for the receiver, her large firm breasts wavering as she shifted her weight and stuck
the receiver in Gilda's mouth.
"Say something to him darling," Maggie said in a suggestive tone of voice.
Gilda was not totally under the influence of the drug the Tibbetts' had give her and the
best she could was mumble a plea for help.
"Benson," she said with intoxicated inflection. "Hellppp meee."
With that, Barker grabbed the phone and slammed it down in its cradle. He looked at
his wife and motioned for her to proceed.
Now Gilda began to sob uncontrollably as Maggie Tibbett lowered the back of the
recliner so that it was now like a double bed and positioned Gilda's ripe, melon like
buttocks sensuously on it. Maggie's tan and taut body strained forward and her skin,
appearing almost transparent, seemed to ripple over the firm definition of her body. She
leaned forward unfastened Gilda's top and cupped her nakedly exposed breasts in her
gentle hands. With feminine softness, Maggie gently rotated the large soft spheres
around in small teasing circles as she moaned in perverse fascination at Gilda's
voluptuously curved body. The rubbery dildo between her legs seemed to come alive as
it squirmed lewdly around with every movement Maggie made.
Gilda was totally helpless now, and she knew it. Barker Tibbett was as evil and
depraved as Benson had claimed, yet Gilda couldn't help but relish the heavenly feeling
of Maggie Tibbett's hands as they roamed over her heavily swaying breasts. Totally
ashamed of herself and the situation she had so foolishly fallen into, Gilda whimpered
as the Spanish fly took hold of her senses. She couldn't stop the exotically strange
trembling which rocked her body with Maggie's every caress, and the drug only
augmented the delicious nature of Maggie's caresses.
Suddenly Gilda felt Maggie's body as it leaned downward and her face lowered to her
breasts. She panted heavily as the drug raced through her and Maggie's warm moist lips
made gentle contact with her milk white breasts.
Gilda was losing the battle she had so gallantly fought in tempting to ward off the
drug's passion inducing affect. She could feel herself slipping helplessly into a trance of
lust inspired ecstasy as Maggie's hungering tongue massaged the hardening bud of her
nipple, and the huge rubbery dildo pressed heavily into her knee as Maggie, moaning in
euphoric pleasure, strained forward to suck harder on her sensuous breasts. The dildo
was bigger than any penis Gilda had imagined and she couldn't deny the fact that the
spongy cock seemed to send fiery chills of desire up and down her already writhing
spine.
Never had Gilda allowed anyone to do what Maggie was doing, and though, in the past,
she would have felt humiliation beyond compare, she was now squirming her firm little
buttocks all over the recliner as Maggie sucked and kneaded hotly at the softly
trembling flesh of her breasts.
God, is this really happening, Gilda thought as Maggie completely tore away the flimsy
halter on Gilda's back, allowing her smoothly sloping breasts to billow further out over
her rib cage. Gilda could still hear the sound of the tape recording ringing in her ears as
something supernatural took hold of her and forced her to kick off her platform shoes.
Maggie's hungering, eager mouth danced over the luscious sweet hardness of Gilda's
nipple and teased every nerve in the District Attorney's wife's body. Convulsive spasms
shook Gilda's very soul as she surrendered to the Spanish fly and reveled in the glorious
feeling of Maggie Tibbett's tongue as it poked and pried the warm, quivering flesh of
Gilda's blossoming nipples.
Slowly at first, but then with forced determination, Maggie lowered her face to the
white supple creaminess of Gilda's firm belly. Her moist searching tongue explored
every inch of Gilda's rippling stomach and as Maggie sucked and gently kissed Gilda's
velvety skin, her hands lowered to the tight, pre faded denim slacks which adorned
Gilda's jutting hips. Deftly, Maggie unfastened the lone button which secured them,
and pulling away from Gilda momentarily, she unzipped the tiny zipper which ran
from Gilda's now rapidly moistening loins to the top of her golden pubic hairline.
"Ooooohhh God," Gilda moaned, now oblivious to anything but Maggie's teasingly
probing fingers. She was under Mrs. Tibbett's spell, but it no longer seemed to matter.
Gilda knew she had tried, but there was nothing she could do to halt the passions
which screamed throughout her whole frustrated body. An hour ago, the thought of
another woman touching her like this would have sent Gilda into paroxysms of disgust
and shame, but now she languished in the soft, radiantly blissful heat of Maggie
Tibbett's obscenely roaming mouth.
With her body trembling and her voice moaning uncontrollably, Gilda passively raised
her buttocks off the recliner and allowed Maggie to strip away her slacks, as Maggie's
eyes bulged out at the wondrous sight she exposed.
Gilda's gorgeous hips and firm, supple buttocks were tightly confined in a pair of micro
mini panty briefs. Her full voluptuous vaginal lips were separated by the small cleft of
black nylon material which glistened in the bright sunlight and dipped downward into
her moist vaginal cavern, the thinly curling tips of Gilda's blonde pubic hair curled out
the leg bands of her black flimsy panties and were crushed and matted as the tight
fitting crotch band seemed to smother the delicious pubic triangle back up against her
naked cunt lips.
Maggie Tibbett, her svelte glistening body shuddering with the anticipation, moaned
audibly as her hand stroked the sleek, black material up between the young wife's
thighs and felt the honeyed moistness which began to permeate the thinly protecting
crotch band.
"Aaaaahhh," Gilda groaned in sweet surrender as Maggie massaged the pulsating
vaginal lips through the sheer fabric of the panties. Gilda could still hear the sounds of
Benson and the whore on the tape recorder, but her thoughts were now entirely glued
to the exquisite massage her badly neglected pussy was receiving.
The two or three minutes Maggie spent playing and kneading the silken flesh of Gilda's
vagina, seemed to Gilda like an eternity. She knew exactly what the other woman
wanted, as she heard Maggie's breath come in heavy, coarse gasps as her hands slid up
underneath Gilda's firmly curved, buttocks. Maggie Tibbett gently pulled the scant
nylon material from Gilda's trembling hips as both women cooed and writhed in
unison; Gilda's golden pussy now exposed to the radiant sunlight.
Gilda could no longer lie to herself. She liked what the beautiful woman between her
legs was doing and she wanted more! She was beside herself now with a strange
fascinating frenzy and Gilda could feel a greater tingle of rising excitement race through
her womb as Maggie Tibbett slowly lowered her head down toward her slightly spread
thighs.
Feeling them suddenly tense at her contact, Maggie locked her arms between them, her
superior strength being all that was necessary to spread them even more widely apart.
Then moving quickly, she dropped lower on her knees and put her probing, hot tongue
to Gilda's defenselessly churning loins, spreading the soft blonde pubic hair outward
with her thumbs and flicking her tongue, lizard like, into the moist, flowering slit of
Gilda's vagina.
"Oooohhh," Gilda heard herself scream as she choked back a soul searing moan. She
tried to lurch back from the sudden electrifying contact but Maggie held her naked
loins fast down against the recliner. It was senseless to fight it, Gilda thought; looking
down between her upraised breasts. She saw Maggie, hunched on all fours, down
between her open thighs like a beast of prey, ready to devour her victim. The pink
moist flesh of Gilda's vagina was presented to Maggie's greedily grinning face in
defenseless sacrifice. Gilda lay frozen on the recliner, her humiliation complete, as she
watched Maggie's tongue, another woman's tongue, slowly circle around the edges of
her widespread young vaginal lips.
Oh God it was good, Gilda thought; even if it wasn't her husband who was doing it.
She was ashamed of her body's reaction, yet she no longer struggled to keep control of
her animal like passions.
Raising her head for a moment, Maggie gazed into the moist golden slit and with a
slight outward pressure of her thumbs, spread the soft pink flanges of flesh to her
hungry mouth. She watched it greedily for a moment, then with an animalistic groan,
she dropped her head and buried the full length of her long slippery tongue up into the
warm throbbing walls of the young blonde's expectantly pulsating pussy.
Sensations of forbidden pleasure began to ripple deep down in her belly, and Gilda's
arms lay tensed at her sides while she twisted her lower body around slowly in lewd
erotic bliss. She was slowly becoming an object to be toyed with as the older woman
desired, and couldn't control the delicious sensations which Maggie's sensuously
probing tongue brought her. She had never been so aroused in her life and in the back
of her mind, she thought of her husband, Benson, and wondered why he couldn't
furnish her with the same luxuriant feelings Maggie Tibbett could. Why was it that they
never seemed to provide each other with the satisfaction they both craved? Perhaps it
was that Benson had other women in his life, like the little prostitute which was at the
very moment screaming out on the obscenely droning tape, but Gilda's mind strayed
again from her husband and returned to the wildly building sensations swirling hotly
around up in her tongue filled cunt.
Now, fully aware of Gilda's total vulnerability, Maggie forced her legs even further
apart, exposing the whole of her naked loins to her tongue's assault. Driving her
tongue, in quick stabbing motions, up the warm fleshy passage between Gilda's thighs,
Maggie worked with greater speed to gain the young housewife's total sensual
surrender. She was almost there, Maggie thought but as if to put the final seal on it, she
flicked her tongue into the tight puckered little hole of Gilda's anus which was nestled
just below the opening of her cunt.
Gilda clenched her eyes shut and moaned blissfully as she felt the wet, searing contact
of Maggie's moist probe against the pinkly throbbing little opening. Her lips bared back
over her teeth and tiny goose bumps formed on her belly and breasts, as Maggie teased
again and again at the tight fleshy ring of Gilda's anus with the wetly licking tip of her
tongue. Her buttocks jerked back involuntarily at first, then upward again, sending
spasms of deliciously erotic sensations racing wildly through her raw, quivering nerves.
Gilda was completely in the older woman's control now and Maggie dipped her tongue
into Gilda's tightly clasping cunt, now massaging and stroking the rubbery penis at her
waist as though it were her own.
She wanted to fuck Mrs. Aimes like she'd never been fucked before, and she crooned
softly down at her hotly writhing nakedness, a lewd hungering gleam shining in the
center of her eyes.
"Oh God, I want to you," Maggie murmured, as she stood up and slid Gilda Benson
farther up on the recliner. Gilda felt as though she were in a hellish dream as she
looked at the beautiful, yet wickedly smiling woman and the lewdly swaying plastic
prick which hovered above her. But instead of finding the sight frightful, Gilda was
beside herself with a wild craving lust she had never known before.
"Oooooh, yes, oooh," she whimpered helplessly as Maggie gently slithered her body
beside hers on the huge recliner. "I want you to make me feel goooooood," Gilda could
hardly believe herself say. She looked at the enormous size of Maggie's plastic cock and
its sight sent shivers of devilish delight through her warmly spread vaginal lips. Gilda
let out a slight shudder of apprehension when she levered herself above her,' but
Maggie's tan, lithely sensuous body seemed to glue itself on top of hers as she
rhythmically ground her own nakedness against Gilda's supple white firmness.
"I think it's too big," Gilda said as she felt its hugeness against her belly and
momentarily attempted to pull away. But her body was pinned to the mattress. She
pressed her thighs together, for although she was out of her mind to be fucked, she was
simply terrified by the enormous length and width of the dildo between Maggie's legs.
She tried to resist, but Maggie slithered her fingers between Gilda's thighs and started
to massage the tiny, already lustfully swollen bud of her clitoris. The warm, throbbing
sensations of her fingers totally wore down Gilda's resistance and permitted Maggie to
gently spread her girl friend's thighs far apart.
Maggie Tibbett now writhed her body hotly up between Gilda's defenseless loins and
exhibited her strong, sun browned buttocks to her husband, who had been watching the
entire scene in rapt amusement. As his lovely young wife rolled over on Benson Aimes'
young wife Barker's penis hardened in excitement, and he wondered how long he could
contain himself from fucking both of them.
Triumphantly, Maggie sunk her hips between Gilda's openly splayed legs, the huge
bulbous head of the plastic prick pressing tightly against the soft wet flowering of
Gilda's cuntal lips. The hungry head throbbed down between the tightly clenched
cheeks of her full white buttocks, as Maggie's knees kept the young blonde's thighs far
apart. Maggie's pelvis began a slow grinding motion and her artificial penis rubbed the
warm swollen pubic mound and prodded gently at the moist pink slit of Gilda's cunt.
The huge rubbery head traced a path up and down Gilda's wetly glistening pussy,
pressing gently against it until the full fleshy folds parted slightly and rubbed
tantalizingly against the flesh like shaft.
"Put it in your hand," Maggie said with a heavy seductive tone in her voice. "Go ahead,
you'll like it darling."
"No, please I... I can't," Gilda murmured.
"Take it!" Gilda heard Barker Tibbett growl. "Take it you little bitch or I'll ram
something up that sweet little pussy you'll never forget."
Obediently, Gilda gasped as she guided the hard flesh like prick into the small flinching
entrance to her vagina, using the smooth rubbery head to part the soft blonde strands
of her nakedly pulsating cuntal lips. She dared not moved as Maggie pressed her hips
downward and forced the obscene, cunt stretching tool slowly up into her clasping
pussy.
"Oooohhh," she gasped as the thick ponderous cock head ground its way relentlessly
into her desire slick vaginal walls.
Gilda could feel every wrinkle and striation of the plastic cock as it welled lewdly up
into her pulsing, red hot vaginal walls. Slowly, inch by inch, Maggie gently warmed the
massive cock into Gilda's salaciously waiting pussy, forcing her cuntal walls moistly
apart with each deeper thrust she made. For a moment Maggie remained still, but then
she re adjusted her position and her tanned firm buttocks strained in the mid day sun
as she lurched deeper and deeper up into the wide splayed young woman's hotly
trembling belly.
"Aaarrrgg," Gilda groaned helplessly, but as her tightly constricted pussy began to grow
accustomed to the barbaric invasion, her whimpers of pain began to subside and turned
into low mewls of pleasure. Now Barker Tibbett readied himself for his own assault.
God, Barker thought to himself, Benson Aimes' old lady sure looks fine sprawled out
over that deck bed. She was a perfect picture of lust provoking sensuality with her
blonde hair cascading softly across her heavily swaying breasts, and her lips moistened
and opened slightly, her apple pink buttocks now a deep red with excitement. He
watched as the two women finally kissed and as their lips made passionate contact and
they started to suck the juices from each others mouths, Barker knew he was unable to
constrain himself any longer.
Quickly he pulled his loafers off and with a frantic tug, he ripped at the belt around his
waist and unfastened his pants. He gingerly jumped out of his slacks and pulled off his
shorts, exposing his enormous and already excitedly lubricated penis. It was bigger than
the one Maggie had strapped to her waist and as it dangled obscenely from Barker's
bushy groin, his eyes feasting hungrily on the erotic sight before him.
"All right, get up, both of you!" Barker commanded. Before Maggie's plastic prick could
plunge deeper into Gilda's moist, warm pussy he said, "I'm going to make some
changes."
Barker ordered his wife to lay on her back on the carpeted surface near the swimming
pool's edge. She subserviently did as he said, the long thick penis strapped to her waist,
now glistening with the obscene splendor of Gilda Aimes' warmly cascading vaginal
juices. Then, with total disregard for the fact that Benson Aimes might, at any minute
barge into his home, Barker Tibbett ordered Gilda to straddle his wife with her cunt
just above the giant phallus.
She looked at the triumphantly smiling older man as he strutted around the patio,
giving directions as though he were making some obscene movie. Although her heavily
drugged mind dictated her every sensation, Gilda was tempted to refuse, but as she
looked down at her voluptuous girl friend and the huge rubbery cock which had felt so
comforting in her aching vagina, Gilda knew she'd comply with his wishes. She
straddled Maggie and squatted over the menacing rubber penis. Teasingly, Gilda
fastened her hand around its girth and rubbed its enormous head over and around her
wetly parted vaginal folds. Then, with one quick movement, she lowered herself upon
the giant organ, taking the huge bulbous head a scant ways up into the curl fringed slit
up between her widespread thighs.
"Aaaaaahhh, oooohhh," she groaned, as she felt the beginnings of the lewdly rising
sensations she had so long awaited slam hard up into the nerve center of her skull.
Now, without guilt, Gilda bucked and jerked down on the rubbery mass, sinking her
voluptuously curving hips lower and lower until her cunt smothered the whole of the
giant cock and were flush down against Maggie's silken curled pubic fur. Gilda writhed
around it in ecstasy, feeling the smooth rubbery head grinding around far up inside her
intestines. Her mind was lost in a haze of abandoned passion, when suddenly she was
brought back to reality by Barker Tibbett's voice.
"Lean forward, sweetheart," Barker said moving up behind her. "I'm going to fuck your
snooty asshole!"
The long stroking cock in her wetly heated vagina was all that Gilda thought about, as
she felt her passion soaring to unimaginable heights. But Barker's remark brought her
back down to earth. She was about to do something unnatural, even though she
relished the thought of it, she knew that she had to answer for the terrible desire in her
soul. When Barker spoke, making his desires perfectly clear, her drug deranged mind
had the perfect answer. She was free now and she wanted to experience everything. She
knew it would be painful, but perhaps it would mean the end of her guilt ridden
existence.
"Yesss, Barker," Gilda gasped. Taking Maggie's cock even deeper up into her belly and
leaning forward she hissed, "Fuck my asshole toooo."
Barker needed no further encouragement and without hesitation, he knelt down
between his wife's legs and Gilda's slender calves. His massive organ was fully erect,
and he stroked his hardness in his hand as he leaned close to the tight, excitedly pulsing
little opening up between Gilda's buttocks. Gilda was in a frenzy now, yet she knew
she'd have to be prepared for Barker's onslaught. She reached back with both hands
and spread the whitely sloping moons of her ass far apart. Maggie's cock was pressing
against her cervix, jerking and anxious, and Gilda wanted Barker to add to the
excitement. She could feel his fingers probing her tightly resisting anal flesh, holding,
then giving way, as she leaned down and forced her sphincter muscle to relax. Now she
was ready! Now she was prepared for the most erotic act she had ever had the nerve to
commit in her whole life!
"Uuugghhh," she grunted as his fingertip searched around to the palm of his hand up
inside her rectum and prepared it for the greater entry to come. A foreign combination
of pain and pleasure enveloped Gilda's widely spread loins, and she began to fuck her
open cunt down on Maggie's heavily wavering cock with a furious delight, unable to
wait for her husband's entry into her anus. Within seconds he pulled his finger from
her hotly working rectum and her buttocks were pulled far apart by his thumbs. And
then came the tremendous pressure against the tiny defenseless circle of her rectal
mouth.
"Oooohhh, it hurts," she wailed, yet she gritted her teeth tight and courageously pushed
her hips back to meet Barker's assault. Barker held her by the tops of her shoulders to
keep her ass back against him as he shoved forward and his heavily invading cudgel
barged log like up into her virgin anal flesh. He stretched her to incredible size, her
anal ring expanding outward like a tight rubber band around his giant penis. But he
continued to push forward driving his cocktail the way up into the smooth rubbery
walls of her asshole until his pelvis smacked hard into the softly giving curves of her
buttocks.
"Uuuggghhhhhhhhh... aaahhh," Gilda cried out in frantic delight as the massively
hardened cock powered relentlessly up into her heretofore private young anal passage.
He drove deep into her clenching anus, filling her beyond belief, while Maggie's cock
fucked between her legs. Gilda felt as though she were being ripped in half, yet she
found the obscenely lewd sensations she was for the first time experiencing wildly
exhilarating. Her initial cries turned now from pleading whimpers to abandoned sobs of
ecstasy as she felt both powerful cocks, the real and unreal, buck and jerk deep up
inside her lustfully quaking young belly; She groaned helplessly as the Tibbetts
skewered her like a well paid whore between their nakedly grinding bodies. Man and
wife were separated by only the,thin membrane which divided the twin openings up
between the girl's wide split thighs, yet as they fucked in unison, Maggie fucking her
hungrily pulsating pussy, and Barker, skewering far up into her tightly milking rectal
passage, they all knew their orgasms were close to exploding out from them at any
moment.
Gilda loved the lewdness and wildness of it and she knew there was no turning back.
The salacious scene was stimulating her to indescribable sexual heights and she could
feel the release she had prayed for rapidly building within her. She shuddered and
moaned as the two cocks fucked ceaselessly up into her feverishly writhing loins and
she felt the growing spasms in her belly mount and wrack her with unaccountable
sensations of obscenely coming splendor.
"Oh my God," she thought. "Never have I known anything so deliciously wonderful."
With accelerating quickness, she felt herself soar skyward as Barker drove his cock deep
up into her desperately contracting anus and Maggie shoved the smooth rubbery head
of her dildo to the extremes of Gilda's cervix.
And then it happened! The first white hot blast exploded deep up inside her hotly
sizzling womb!
"Oooohhh... I'm going to... cuummmmmm! Yes... I'm... cummmmming... now!" Gilda
screamed unabashedly, as she rode the powerful wave of sexual euphoria in blissful
stupor.
She rocked and bucked frantically around on the two deeply impaling penises riding
out the full cycle of her cunt flooding orgasm until her body flaccidly gave way to the
total exhaustion which overcame her. But, just as she started to relax and regain her
wits, Barker Tibbett reached the end of his resistance and his cock jerking wildly,
spewed out his thick white cream far up into her gratefully milking rectum.
"Ooooooohh," he groaned from the depths of his soul, as he emptied out his fully
loaded testicles into Gilda's hungrily accepting anal depths. She was accustomed to his
size now and she greedily shoved her buttocks back into his groin as if she were
begging him to fuck into her with even more of his hotly gushing cock. His scrotum
smacked obscenely down against the backs of her thighs as he plunged for the final,
cock deflating time into her cum flooded rectal depths and she had loved every precious
second of it. She might despise the Tibbetts as people, she thought to herself, but as
twin lovers, they couldn't be beat.
Benson Aimes barged into the Tibbett's huge home, walked through the house, and
emerged onto the patio just in time to find his wife slipping into her platform shoes, the
Tibbetts were both half clothed and lazily sipping on some mint juleps Maggie Tibbett
had just prepared.
Benson had rushed from his office after speaking to Johnny Proctor and had driven to
the Tibbett address, not knowing what to expect after hearing his wife's plea for help.
Brilliant rays of sunshine formed diamond like sparkles on his forehead, now covered
with perspiration, as he rushed onto the patio and hurled his sunglasses down on the
portable executive table.
"Have a drink," Barker Tibbett chuckled; sticking a frosty glass in Benson Aimes' face.
"What in God's name has been going on here?" Benson angrily asked as his eyes
glanced over the numerous and assorted garments which adorned the pool's carpet.
"Are you all right, Gilda?" he inquired, his eyes beating threateningly at Barker Tibbett.
"Is she all right?" Tibbett said with an accompanying laugh from his wife. "Why she's
fantastic!" Barker added, his dark, heavy eye brows dancing in the merriment of his
remark.
"What's happened here, Gilda?" he asked sternly. "Thirty minutes ago you call for help
and now you stand there whacked out of your mind on gin, smiling like an idiot!"
"Oh we just had a little party, Benson," Maggie Tibbett interjected. "It's a shame you
couldn't have been here." Her eyes traveled up and down Benson's body as she made
the remark, and looking back into her alluring black eyes, Benson knew what type of
party she was referring to.
"Are youuuu... goooing... ta... take me... home now?" Gilda stammered as she tripped
trying to reach her beloved husband. She knew she had enjoyed the sexual extravagance
the Tibbetts' had provided for her, yet the tertiary stages of the drug she had ingested,
added to the alcohol Barker had furnished made her groggy and unable to respond to
anything her husband did or said.
"What the fuck have you done to her," Benson said, his rage rampantly running
through his body as he stalked toward Barker.
Benson's fist was clenched tightly near his side. And it appeared as though he was ready
to mangle the slightly older man.
"Now hold on a minute there Mr. Big shot," Barker said. "You don't have anything on
me. Your wife just came over to have a few drinks with her friends and listen to a very
interesting tape recording." Barker smiled as he pushed the play button on the recorder
near the telephone.
Although Benson guessed she had heard it, he was glad that Gilda was still knocked out
by whatever the Tibbetts' had given her and was incapable of hearing the lewd and
guttural sounds which emitted from the tape. He just hoped that she'd regain her
senses, and forgive him for his mistake. If she had heard the recording Benson knew
that the evidence he now had against Tibbett, would not only constitute a good case but
hopefully would convince Gilda that he had had to visit the The Massage de Jour, in
the course of his duties.
"Well, you'd better listen to me Tibbett," Benson said sticking a finger into the other
man's belly. "I had a long talk today with one of your men and he's furnished me with
enough evidence to put you away for years. If I were you I'd start spending my time
putting my affairs together instead of spending days like this playing with your wife and
her girl friends."
"You can't fool me Aimes," Tibbett heatedly replied. "My men don't talk to squares like
you. They don't have any reason to. They're too well paid and very happy with the way
I take care of business. So you and your wife get outta my place and take your pipe
dreams with you!"
"Money isn't everything," Benson remarked as he dramatically produced the collection
records Johnny Proctor had furnished him. "You recognize these?" he asked Tibbett, as
the other man's face turned crimson, and cold sweat broke out on his forehead. "One of
your employees forwarded them to me. I'm sure that these, plus a few other little pieces
of information I have at my disposal will give you enough legal headaches to last you a
lifetime."
"Good day, Mr. Tibbett," Benson said, regaining his composure, and escorting his
intoxicated wife out to the car.
As he helped Gilda into their compact, he didn't realize it, but Benson had two forms of
incriminating evidence against Tibbett in his hands. The collection records and his wife,
Gilda, who was to surprisingly furnish him with the incredible story of her outrageous
rape.
The ordeal of the trial had not been easy on his wife Gilda, but as Benson Aimes drove
to the federal courthouse for Barker Tibbett's sentencing, he knew he had done the
right thing in bringing her to the stand.
Gilda had endured the long weeks of the trial, tearfully at times, testifying to the
outrage which had taken place at Barker Tibbett's home. Gilda's testimony, plus the
testimony of Johnny Proctor and Saundra Lund had, (in his own words), brought
Tibbett's 'vice empire' to its knees. Their word in court had also insured that a number
of Tibbett's men, Curly Lambu and Max Ried included, would spend a good portion of
the remainder of their lives in jail.
Benson had to pat himself on the back for the way he had dispatched the case against
Tibbett and though he was quite upset by the way the local press had played up Gilda's
rape, he was proud to say that he had exhausted every possible resource at his disposal
to put Barker Tibbett behind bars. Yes he was glad he had done his job well, but now,
with the case behind him, Benson's thoughts drifted more to the outcome of the trial
and its effects on his wife, rather than its ramifications to Tibbett.
Gilda was certainly a different woman than she had been, and though she had told
publically of the perversions she had submitted to under the Tibbetts' coercion, Benson
couldn't help thinking he owed a lot of his current happiness to the experience.
Although she'd been drugged out of her mind during the entire scandalous episode, she
had awakened from the experience a totally new woman. Now she was sexually
ravishing beyond Benson's wildest expectations and he could only compare her with the
young prostitute named Veronica, he had fucked only months before.
What a bastard he had been to neglect his wife. He had spent years and untold energy
to fulfill his career expectations, yet he really hadn't done much to promote the success
of their marriage. But, now things would be different, he said to himself as he sped
toward the courthouse. Yes, from now on, things would certainly be different.
"Before I commence sentencing," the elderly white haired judge said, "there are a few
things I'd like to say. Those who have testified in this court room and the hard factual
information given the court in this case, indicate to me, and I'm certain, to others, that
the defendant, Barker J. Tibbett is a definite menace to society. It has come to the
attention of this court that the defendant ran an empire based on vice and corruption
and that brute force and intimidation were his modus operandi. May the decision which
I am about to pass down serve as a warning to others of Mr. Tibbett's persuasion. We,
the people in and for the city and county of Los Angeles will not tolerate the likes of
Mr. Tibbett and his underlings and will fight, with all our God given powers, to drive
their evil influences from this land."
"Mr. Tibbett, I hereby sentence you, with the authority vested in me by the State's
Attorney General, to not less than 10 and not more than 30 years in a State penitentiary
of the court's discretion. Sentencing of the other defendants will be adjudicated at a
later date, pending the outcome of their appeals."
"The court is adjourned," he added, "case dismissed."
The moment he had waited for had arrived and as Benson Aimes tried to repress the
smile which flickered over his ruddy complexion, his thoughts turned to Johnny
Proctor and Saundra Lund who had been in the courtroom for the sentencing, despite
Aimes' advice to the contrary.
"I want to thank you Mr. Aimes, for advising the district attorney's office not to press
charges against me. You don't know what it means to Saundra and I," Johnny said as
he looked at the seasoned court room lawyer.
"well I think the whole city of Los Angeles owes you a resounding thank you," Benson
said to Johnny. "After all if you hadn't come to me, I'd still be searching for something
on which to base a case and you two would still be working for Barker Tibbett."
Saundra blushed a deep crimson as Benson's words escaped his mouth, and all three of
them laughed light heartedly as their attentions were directed to the lovely girl's
complexion.
"Saundra," Benson said, "my wife tells me you and Johnny are getting married. Is there
any truth to that rumor?"
Now her blushing face turned a dark red as she remained speechless and held Johnny's
arm securely.
"That's right Mr. Aimes," Johnny said. "I know we've got a long road to travel, but I
think we can make it work. We're going to New Mexico at the end of this month. My
uncle's got a beat piece of land down there and he said I could help him get it back into
shape."
"Well," Benson replied, "you won't have to worry about Barker Tibbett's men following
you. With the indictments my office has on his entire organization they'll be too busy
fighting their court cases to worry about you two."
"We sure hope so," Johnny and Saundra said in almost perfect unison.
They nervously laughed at themselves and then shook Benson Aimes' hand once again.
And as Benson Aimes departed from the courthouse at one exit, and Johnny and
Saundra left by another, all three knew that their brief, but rewarding friendship
signaled a new and better life for each of them.


THE END
