The Captive Bride
by Peter Jensen 


Chapter One 

"Well, my dear, I have good news for the both of us," Fritz Schneider said 
to his young, dark-eyed Italian mistress who was sunning herself on the 
patio of their large country house in Mallorca. Schneider sat in the shade 
on a stone bench. He threw a branch for his large dog, Eric, a 
fierce-looking German shepherd. The branch sailed over the courtyard wall, 
and the dog growled with displeasure before dashing out of the patio through 
an open gate. 

Christina was naked and stretched out in a provocative position on the 
grass, her knees uplifted and her full firm thighs spread apart in an 
uninhibited fashion. She had creamily tanned shoulders that narrowed down to 
an hourglass waist, and molded thighs that tapered over slim calves to thin, 
well-formed ankles. Swelling out from her small waist, her curved hips were 
more than matched by generously rounded breasts whose rose-tipped nipples 
pointed up to the sun. 

"Christina, are you listening?" Schneider commanded. 

"What, Fritz, darling?" she yawned and turned over to one side, bending an 
elbow to support her head. 

Her satiny black hair cascaded down her back as she removed dark glasses to 
peer at Schneider. Her dark eyes, with their long thick eyelashes fluttering 
out over high-set cheekbones, gave her a devouring expression. As she cast a 
passion-inciting glance at Schneider, he felt his penis eagerly jerk and 
stiffen in his pants. 

"Fortune has smiled on us in our need for someone to deliver the heroin to 
the states," he announced. 

"Not me, I hope," Christina murmured in a lightly accented voice. 

"No, our desperation has yet to reach such lengths. I think we shall use the 
charming young American newlyweds whom we met in Palma yesterday. The ones 
who just arrived from their wedding in the states." 

"I want to buy a leopard skin coat," Christina muttered. 

"My dear, sometimes I wonder about you! How can you think of fur coats in 
this kind of weather?" 

Christina didn't answer but sank back onto the grass. Her pink-nippled 
breasts jostled slightly as she lifted a hand to shade her eyes from the 
bright sun. Once again, Schneider's cock throbbed and he felt his long thick 
penis straining against the restricting material of his Bermuda shorts. 

"Christina," he ordered as his glance took in her naked body. "I want you to 
crawl over here. On your knees." 

"No!" Christina laughed huskily. 

"I want to see those big tits of yours bobbing as you crawl over to me." 

"It's too hot," Christina protested. 

"Shut your pretty mouth," Schneider growled with a note of sadistic humor in 
his voice, "and do as I say!" 

Christina heaved a deep sigh and lifted herself slowly from the grass onto 
her knees, taking one last look at the sun as if she were about to set out 
on a long journey. She had been lying lazily in the bright sun for about an 
hour, and her lush body was covered with a light gloss of perspiration that 
deepened her Mediterranean tan. A delicate trail of moisture trickled down 
her flat browned belly to the curling black wisps of her pubic mound. She 
smiled and then began hobbling across the grass to Schneider, her 
sun-bronzed hips and full-swaying breasts presenting an obscenely sensual 
picture to him. She reached the edge of the stone patio where Schneider sat, 
looking at him with an amused expression. 

"What about the Americans?" she asked, and gracefully rolled her hips back 
onto the grass. 

"Oh, yes," Schneider sighed, suddenly brought back to business. "He is the 
son of a well-known congressman. When he returns to his country from his 
Mallorcan honeymoon, his luggage won't even be touched by the customs 
people." 

Schneider's thoughts returned to the young American couple whom he and 
Christina had met in Palma yesterday. They had happened to be sitting in the 
same sidewalk cafe when Christina struck up a conversation with them in her 
usual gregarious fashion. Schneider had seen immediately that the 
good-natured young husband was almost a kid, and the young wife had a 
virginally proud appearance that appealed to his sadistic character. He had 
talked on at great length, and enjoyed the way he was impressing the young 
couple as a sophisticated European. But all the while his eyes had roamed 
over the young blonde's upturned breasts, enticingly outlined by a thin 
summer sweater. 

"I don't think he'll want to do it," Christina frowned and lifted her knees, 
leaning back against the grass on her arms. 

"That's where the young wife comes in," Schneider grinned gloatingly. 

Yesterday they had hardly left the cafe when he'd realized that his lewd 
fantasies about the young blonde were entirely possible. A plan had occurred 
to him in which he would not only enjoy the sexy blonde wife, but the heroin 
problem would be solved as well. 

Schneider's multi-million dollar heroin smuggling operation had suffered a 
temporary halt at the U.S. end of the line when customs had installed an 
elaborate new screening process which had already detected two of 
Schneider's shipments. But with the help of the American couple, Fritz felt 
sure that he had discovered an ingenious method for slipping through at 
least four or five caches of the narcotic with absolutely no risk to 
himself. Jack Thompson, who had exuberantly identified himself as the son of 
an important congressman, would have an almost diplomatic immunity because 
of his father's congressional status. Schneider gloated to himself, running 
his mind over the clever plan once again. Two suitcases filled with heroin 
and carried by Jack Thompson would net Schneider a considerable sum, but it 
was the other part of the plan, where the American's young bride came into 
play, which really caught Fritz Schneider's interest. 

"We shall bring them here to the house. It will be very interesting, I 
think, to have photographs of an important congressman's young 
daughter-in-law having a go at it with a dog. After I warm her up first, of 
course. They shall be explicit photographs. Not a detail shall be left out," 
Schneider said slowly, savoring the completeness of his scheme. 

So he has his eye on that sweet young bitch, Christina thought in sullen 
jealousy. She was twenty-five, thirty years younger than Schneider but he 
still had a crude masculine quality about him that attracted her. He was a 
powerful-looking man, with a cruel sadistic look in his eyes that befitted 
an ex-Nazi in hiding. But she had more affection for him than might be 
expected of a young mistress. It was more than the easy life that Fritz 
provided for her that held her to him. 

"She doesn't seem the type," she pouted moodily. 

"My dear, there's no reason to be negative. The young lady will be compliant 
after she finds you naked in bed with her young husband. I thought you would 
enjoy that." 

Christina's sulking expression cheered up immediately at the mention of a 
chance for her to seduce the virile-looking man. Already Schneider could see 
her exulting salaciously as she planned exactly how she would get the 
younger man into bed. She's a narcissist and has a right to be, he thought 
as he eyed her naked body. Her ripe full breasts spilled out beside her 
upturned knees, and her hair-lined pussy-lips were spread enticingly for his 
appreciating view. 

"I'm willing to try," she agreed and sat up, crossing her legs and twirling 
at her black hair where it fell gently over her shoulders and down her back. 

This certainly is good news! Christina thought to herself. At first, she had 
felt a little jealous when Fritz mentioned the young wife, but she had to 
admit that one of the things she liked most about living with Schneider was 
all of the wonderful freedom the older German gave her. They had an 
excellent living arrangement since Schneider's search for variety in his 
women was only matched by her own strong appetite for a wide assortment of 
desirable men. 

Sometimes Christina thought Fritz understood her sexual needs even better 
than she did. 

Schneider bent down and rested his elbows on his knees. "You have the right 
attitude dear. I'll enjoy watching you throw it to him. After a few hours of 
coaxing, I'm sure you'll be impossible to resist." 

"I think my body is holding up pretty well, don't you?" Christina said, 
cupping her hands under the voluptuous weight of her firmly rounded breasts 
and lifting them until they stood out in full bloom. She held the pulsating 
little nipples between her thumbs and forefingers, pinching them gently into 
erection. Leaving her breasts, her hands trailed down over her smooth 
stomach to her hair-fringed pubic "vee". 

"Quite well," Schneider agreed. "Come over here so we can talk more about 
it." 

Christina walked over to the stone patio and then knelt provocatively beside 
Schneider who tangled one hand into her soft black hair. With the other 
hand, he unzipped his Bermuda shorts, rising a minute to tug them and his 
undershorts anxiously over his knees until they fell alongside the bench. He 
dropped back onto the bench, his long, desire-hardened cock beginning to 
jerk and throb below his spreading belly. 

"You'll work over the husband and I'll get the proud little bride," he 
murmured and separated his hairy thighs, holding his cock in his hand and 
slipping back the heavy foreskin to reveal the thick rubbery head. Then he 
took her hand and clasped it around his rock-hard penis which stiffened and 
twitched visibly at her warm touch. 

The kneeling young woman teased the foreskin back and forth with one hand 
while with the other she played with his sperm-bloated testicles, squeezing 
them with the tips of her gently massaging fingers. "He was nicely built, I 
thought," Christina murmured as Fritz's lubricating fluid seeped out of the 
small opening at the lust-bloated glans. She rubbed her fingers over his 
blunt cock-head, swirling the slippery liquid all over the throbbing tip and 
causing obscene ecstatic shivers to run down Schneider's thighs. Christina 
bent forward to trail her warm tongue down his hair-covered belly to his 
upper thighs as Schneider's cock jerked in excited response. She continued 
to massage and stroke his long hard penis with one hand while her tongue ran 
hungrily down over his cum-filled balls. 

"And naive. He'll be so appreciative," he grunted and gritted his teeth as 
the brunette's open mouth hovered in a tantalizing sucking position about 
his pulsing cock, so close that he could feel her hot breath grazing against 
his desire-stiffened penis. 

He pressed against the back of her head and forced his erected cock up 
through her softly ovaled lips into the warm wet saliva of her mouth. 

"God, baby, he'll be putty in your hands," he gasped through tightly 
clenched teeth as his burgeoning penis slid up the full length of her wetly 
outstretched tongue. He could feel his cock pulsating against the clasping 
interior of her mouth as she wormed her head the full-length down his 
hardened penile staff until the blunt tip-end touched back against her 
tonsils. 

Christina mewled softly and lifted her head up slowly to his cock-head where 
she flicked the tip of her tongue into the small open slit at the end until 
she could taste his pungent seminal fluid. She ran her tongue wetly around 
and around the saliva-lubricated head, then began pumping with her lips, 
bobbing her head up and down as her elastically sucking lips pulled like a 
vacuum on the taut cock-shaft fucking up into her open mouth. Her cheeks 
hollowed on the outstroke and expanded on the instroke, the pink insides of 
her lips clinging to his thrusting penis as if held there by unseen fingers. 

Schneider's cock sank deep into her clasping cheeks until only the thick 
base of it showed white and glistening from between her incessantly sucking 
lips. The dark-haired older man placed his hands on the bench and levered 
himself up, lifting his hips and grinding them in continuously thrusting 
jabs against her receiving mouth. 

"You'll get him in bed with you and he'll be fucking you when she catches 
him," he grunted as her head bobbed below, her breasts lewdly dancing 
beneath her pumping torso. She continued sucking his crazily jerking penis 
while she trailed her fingernails across his muscular thighs, working them 
down to cradle his cum-filled balls. 

Suddenly, his hands locked tightly behind her head, he forced her mouth 
mercilessly down his rigid hardness until Christina gagged slightly. She 
struggled to regain her breath and then drew up and down on his 
mouth-filling penis, her lips making wet sucking noises as her ovalling 
mouth strained ever more hungrily around his driving cock. 

"Harder, harder," he commanded. Schneider closed his eyes, pretending for 
the moment it was the sexy blonde wife of the American. He'd like to give it 
to her like this, ramming his cock all the way back into her throat when he 
did get her ... and ... he would get her soon! 

"Suck harder ... harder!" he hissed in animal-like anticipation as Christina 
labored ever more passionately below; her breasts bobbed and bounced 
wantonly and her skin began glistening from the tiny droplets of sweat 
forming over her straining body. 

"I'm going to get at that hot young wife and fuck her senseless!" Schneider 
growled as his hands tightened in his young mistress's long black hair. 
Suddenly the heat in his constricting balls screamed out with explosive 
release! 

Chills rippled along the back of his spine and an obscene gurgling murmur 
passed from his lips as he felt the maddening softness of her flicking 
tongue twirling around his powerfully ejaculating cock, teasing it ever more 
furiously as his churning testicles neared the bursting point. Incoherent 
moans sputtered from between his tightly clenched teeth, and a low guttural 
sound erupted from somewhere deep in his chest and broke into a choking 
gasp. 

Hot liquid sperm was emptying out from his violently contracting balls, 
flooding searing jets of cum deep into her contracting throat as Christina 
continued sucking for all she was worth. Her Adam's apple bobbed in rapid 
rhythm, swallowing desperately the gushing spurts of hot male semen which 
filled every cubic inch of her cum-drenched mouth. 

"Suck it, baby, suck it," he whimpered in the final trembling spasms of his 
draining orgasm. 

Slowly, his penis deflated between her semen-smeared lips, but she continued 
the hungry little nibbling motions, sucking out the last tiny bit of his 
boiling male cum as she rested her head on his leg. She continued to nip at 
him gently for awhile before she lifted her head and rose again to her 
knees. 

"When do we meet the husband?" Christina said, her cum-covered mouth shining 
lewdly in the Mediterranean sunlight. 

"This afternoon we shall invite them to the house. Once they're here, 
they're here for good. We'll hold them while you work on the husband. When 
the young girl is in the proper state of shock, I think we'll get some good 
photographs of her. After we get the pictures, we'll release the husband 
with the heroin but hold onto the wife. He will get her back after he's 
delivered the drug. We, my dear, will hold onto the photographs for our 
future protection, and I might add, our future amusement." 

Chapter Two 

Becky Thompson stretched her long legs out into the sun as she sat alone at 
an outdoor table in the same Palma sidewalk cafe where she and her husband, 
Jack, had met the German and the voluptuous Italian woman yesterday. Jack 
had finally gone to the bar after they had waited quite a long time to order 
their second round of drinks. He was now talking casually with an elderly 
Scandinavian woman while he attempted to get the barman's attention. 

Becky lifted her long golden hair from her shoulders for a moment and 
breathed a deep sigh of relief as the cool air hit her shoulders. The soft 
breeze blowing through the crowded sidewalk cafe was refreshing after the 
hot June morning she and Jack had spent on the beach. 

The clear aquamarine water of the Mediterranean had felt heavenly as it had 
gently surged over her almost naked body. At first, she had felt a little 
shy and uncomfortable about appearing in such a revealing bikini, but when 
she got to the beach she saw all the women were wearing them. She would have 
felt out of place, she realized now, if she had worn her old one-piece suit 
from back home. Undoubtedly, Jack was right when he teased her and said she 
was slightly old-fashioned and too modest. 

Of course, Jack wasn't audacious or extreme himself, and she was glad of 
that. Let others have their new-fangled ideas, she thought, but when it came 
to marriage she was a traditionalist and wanted a marriage that would last 
forever. With Jack's boyish manner and dry sense of humor she didn't expect 
to ever be bored. It was all going to be so perfect! When they returned 
home, Jack had a job with a new up-and-coming corporation, and she planned 
to work two or three years as a teacher. She knew they could have had a 
family right away if they had wanted to accept more help from their parents. 
But it was better, they had decided together, to struggle on their own and 
be independent. 

So it wasn't really selfish of them to have allowed Jack's generous and 
wealthy senator father to send them on this wonderful honeymoon. Even at the 
beginning, she had instinctively sensed it would have been rude to refuse 
her future father-in-law's gesture. She had to smile as she thought of 
Jack's famous and rather flamboyant congressman father. He was an awful lot 
like Jack - exuberant and good-natured on the outside, but surprisingly 
sensible and old-fashioned inside. 

So now, because of Jack's father, she and her new husband were in their 
plushly modern hotel with a whole suite of three rooms to themselves. The 
living room had sliding doors that opened onto a terrace from where they had 
a good view of the water. This morning they had gotten up from bed and 
walked out on the terrace to see droves of white swallows flashing back and 
forth through the clear blue sky over the ancient white-painted architecture 
close to the port. Then Jack had called down to room service and had 
breakfast brought up to the terrace. They sat quietly in lounge chairs, 
sipping on strong black coffee and trying to eat these hard European rolls. 

Now, as she lit a cigarette in the cafe, she realized that through the 
elegant morning breakfast Jack had probably been trying to make up for last 
night. He knew that would make more of an impression on her than more 
meaningless apologies. But she quickly shoved the memory of that agonizing 
first night together out of her mind with one quick stroke. No, she wouldn't 
allow herself to think of it. She had already decided this morning that some 
things only became worse when you stewed about them and were best left 
forgotten. 

Her attention was suddenly occupied by Jack who was picking his way through 
the closely positioned tables on the sidewalk toward her table. 

"That's some conversation I had with that woman over there," the tall, 
dark-haired young man said as he pulled out a chair and sat down. "According 
to her, this cafe is about the most infamous hang-out on the island." 

"What did she mean by that?" Becky asked curiously and laughed. The cafe 
looked ordinary enough to her. Its canopied top stretched out over the 
sidewalk, and groups of businessmen hovered around small tables. She noticed 
two quaint-looking older men playing cards just inside the wide door. 

"Some criminal types, to hear her tell it, frequent the place," he said as 
he looked to the side. 

Becky gave a sudden start of fright as she recognized the desk clerk in the 
hotel where they were staying. He was sitting with a group of men at a back 
table, which was probably why she hadn't noticed him before. During their 
few brief encounters, she had thought him pleasant enough, but now she found 
herself wondering about him. 

"My Lord! That's the desk clerk at our hotel!" Becky laughed nervously and 
turned back to her husband. 

"He seems nice enough," her husband raised his second gin and tonic to his 
lips. "As a matter of fact, he's treated us rather royally since we arrived 
here." 

Becky tried to recall their few contacts with the red-haired man, but it was 
virtually impossible since only Jack had talked with him when they had 
checked in yesterday. She had stood to the side with her mind totally 
wrapped up in the fact that she was checking into a hotel with a man, now 
her husband, for the first time. Later that evening - when they had finally 
returned from their conversation with the German and his gorgeous-looking 
wife in this same cafe - he had escorted them back up to their room. But 
once again her mind had been absorbed in what would happen in the next few 
hours of their first night together. 

"I don't think he's too much of a desperado," Jack went on. "That Swedish 
woman says that he used to be involved in an agency that provided tourists 
with illegal guides. He charged them for a tour around Palma with local boys 
who didn't know much of anything. Now it's suspected he's involved in the 
illicit drug traffic. According to her, the police investigate him a lot, 
but can't pin anything on him ... I don't know. I'm not going to worry about 
it. It doesn't seem to have anything to do with his work at our hotel." 

"Do you think we should tell the hotel?" Becky frowned. 

"On the basis of what that woman said? No, honey, she's probably just a 
gossip. Let's forget about it," he reached across the table and squeezed her 
hand. 

"Agreed," Becky smiled back. 

Jack finished off the last of his gin and tonic. "I think I'll run over to 
American Express to see if we got any mail," he said. "I'll ask the barman 
to bring you another drink in the meantime. Then we'll go back to the hotel 
for a little siesta. Right?" he gave her a hopeful expression. 

Becky nodded uncomfortably. 

She watched Jack move to the bar and then wave as he came back through the 
tables and moved out onto the sunny street. She looked down the street which 
was lined with trees and noticed several shopkeepers pulling down the 
latticed shutters to their open stalls. The caf tables on both sides of the 
street were filling up even more now. Palma's business people were coming 
out of the shops and crowding with the tourists onto the narrow sidewalk. 

Siesta, Jack had said, and Becky knew what that meant... He wanted to make 
love again. She stared gloomily down the street at a palm tree. Despite 
herself, a small knot of fear and humiliation tightened in her stomach. 
Siesta. She hoped it would be nothing like the brutal animalistic way he had 
acted when he had almost raped her last night. 

Chapter Three 

Olaf Jorgensen, the Swedish desk clerk Becky and Jack had been warned about 
in the cafe, had been closely watching the young American couple from the 
first moment they arrived at the swank Hotel Del Palacio around noon of the 
previous day. From his earlier experiences with American honeymooners, he 
had guessed they had been married the day before, and that they had left the 
wedding party early to catch their night flight from the United States to 
Mallorca. He knew that they had been in the plane overnight by the way they 
had arrived at the hotel desk looking typically giddy and exhausted. Well, 
the husband seemed nervous, but his lovely young bride was one of those 
poised blondes who never looked tired or rumpled. The desk clerk had watched 
her standing to the side of the counter while her husband anxiously asked 
about their reservations. Olaf had hardly listened to what the groom was 
saying since he was so lustfully fascinated with the ripe young figure of 
the new bride. He expected to get a full view of that luscious young body 
later that night as he peeped into the Bridal Suite from a small aperture he 
had long ago installed in the wall of the adjoining hotel room. 

The young newlyweds had changed clothes and gone out immediately to sit in 
some Palma cafe and watch the other tourists. All afternoon Olaf had gloated 
over his plans for the coming night. He had practically fallen over himself 
with excessive friendliness when they had returned to the hotel at eight 
o'clock in the evening. Escorting them personally to their quarters, he had 
delighted in their surprise at his good service and their ignorance of how 
he intended to use them. 

Olaf, once he had been relieved by the night clerk at nine, headed 
immediately for the room next to the Bridal Suite. He hurried up to the wall 
and positioned himself in front of the special viewing spot he had cleverly 
designed to focus on the bed. There they were! He gasped eagerly as the 
couple moved quietly around the room in the tender moments just before they 
would undress and prepare for bed. His heart rose in anticipation as the 
young man pulled himself close to his beautiful blonde bride while she 
teased her moistly parted lips over his face. 

It will only be a few moments now! Olaf thought. But then the husband's 
features fell in disappointment when the young girl gently gestured him 
aside and entered the bathroom. Olaf had cursed silently with sympathetic 
frustration as Jack sat down on the side of the bed and stared impatiently 
at the closed bathroom door. 

Now Olaf's lust welled up deeper and more insistently than ever as he 
imagined the perfect curves of Becky Thompson's succulent young body. He 
congratulated himself on the fact that tonight he would reap a special 
benefit from the deflowering about to be played out before him. Fritz 
Schneider had paid Olaf to keep a close detailed watch on the couple. The 
reasons for Schneider's interest had not been disclosed to the Swede, nor 
did Olaf feel compelled to ask. Schneider was a clever character and was 
always up to something lucrative, and Olaf felt lucky to be involved in 
intrigue with the German. Besides, he had received a sizable lump of cash 
for his spying efforts. 

Olaf rubbed the crotch of his pants, feeling the pulsating ridge of his 
thickening cock jerk up in arousal as he thought how both he and Jack 
Thompson were waiting for the same thing. 

Now Becky walked out of the bathroom, her flimsy nightgown clinging to her 
ripe young body and exposing the curved half-moons of her buttocks which 
undulated provocatively beneath the transparent material. She stood at the 
mirror like a work of classical sculpture, combing out her long honey-blonde 
hair with brisk strokes of a brush, then set the brush down on the bureau 
top. Olaf's eyes moved from the sensuous young curves of her hips up to her 
voluptuously rounded breasts. They were set close together, and through the 
thin covering, he could see their tiny pink nipples rising into tantalizing 
little buds. Damn! Wouldn't he like to get his hands and mouth around those! 

"You know, I just can't wait a goddamn minute longer," Thompson's voice 
broke the momentary silence. 

The curvaceous young blonde stood back against the marble-topped bureau. Her 
eyes flickered down across her husband's leanly muscular body to the obvious 
bulge of his slacks. She saw him getting up from the bed, a twisted grin 
sweeping across his face, and suddenly she was terror-stricken. 

"Why . . . Jack ... I thought maybe we'd have a drink, I mean," her words 
were cut off as he thrust his massive chest against her ripely quivering 
breasts, embraced her, and splurged his tongue wetly into her mouth. 

"I don't need a drink. Jesus, Becky, all I need is you," he drew away only 
to get his breath. 

The young bride could feel the rigid length of his cock throbbing through 
his slacks against her thigh. She tried to pull to the side, reaching behind 
to the bureau for balance; abruptly, she felt his hands massaging the full 
mounds of her breasts through the gauzy nightgown fabric. The feel of his 
warm hands against her trembling breasts both excited and sent a shudder of 
fear through her. Jack was beginning to breathe harder, and she could feel 
his penis growing another pounding inch next to her trembling thigh. 

"I just don't..." she tried to protest, but his mouth was on her own again. 

"You don't what?" her young husband said through clenched teeth, when she'd 
managed to pull away. 

"I-I don't know, Jack ... I mean, I didn't think when we were first together 
it was going to be like this." 

The crude hungry look he gave her sent a chill of foreboding down the length 
of her spine. 

"Darn you. Oh, Jack, you're so silly. Let me go." 

"There isn't any reason to be so damn uptight," he said, tightening his hold 
on her quivering young breasts. 

Suddenly, Thompson was guiding his wavering wife toward the bed. He fell 
down beside her, his hands inching the nightgown up slightly and then 
dropping to the sleek softness of her exposed thighs. Her hands clutched at 
his massaging fingers, feeling her heart leap into her throat as his hands 
moved relentlessly upward toward her virginal vagina. 

"Oh no, stop, please, stop!" Becky moaned, but he ignored her pleas, 
continuing his eager fondling until his out-stretched middle finger was 
pressing her white nylon panties up against her trembling pussy lips. She'd 
modestly left her panties on, although she knew it was silly ... yet on this 
first night with Jack, she still had a lot of girlish hang-ups . . . 

"Look baby, we've been waiting all these years. It's hardly the time now to 
decide to back out!" 

"I'm not backing out," she exclaimed. 

"I think you're going to enjoy it," a streak of masculine cruelty entered 
his normally gentle voice. 

Becky tried to get up from the bed when she felt Jack's fingers pinching 
into the soft naked flesh just below the tight elastic leg band of her brief 
panties. He squeezed again, sending a razor sharp slice of pain through her 
skin. She opened her legs, and felt him loosen his grip. 

"More!" Jack shouted. "Wider!" 

She lurched up the mattress, then scrambled up to the headboard, cringing 
against it like a frightened feline animal. Her lust-incited young husband 
leaped forward on the bed and pushed her shoulders flat against the bed so 
that her head smacked hard against one fluffy pillow. 

Thompson looked at her lying on the flattened mattress, taking in with one 
glance the curving spheres of her breasts and her exposed thighs' tanned 
smoothness. Now he shifted his weight downward, planting his hand that had 
been clenching her arm over the smooth white nylon covering her pussy. 

The helpless bride jerked up from the impact of his touch, but his hand 
encircled her neck in an iron grip that hurt her terribly. "Ooooooooh, let 
me go! Don't be like this Jack, please!" 

There was no answer from her young husband. 

Becky fell back, jerking slightly once more when she felt his obscenely 
prodding fingers squeeze at the sensitive flesh of her buttocks. Without 
warning, he grinned in triumph and yanked at her flimsy bikini panties; the 
tight elastic waistband snapped, and the panties were pulled off her in one 
vicious tug. 

"Oh God, no," she gaped down in horror at her own defenseless nakedness, 
trying to cover her softly curling blonde pussy hair with her hands. But it 
was useless. She felt her panties fall from her feet to the floor beside the 
bed, and she reached over trying to retrieve them, but Jack used her 
movement to slide his other hand under her rounded buttocks and began 
squeezing the full fleshy moons together. 

"Tell me, Becky. Tell me you want me to fuck you," he prodded. 

Becky could not answer. She rolled her head away so that she wouldn't have 
to look at his snickering face, and she whimpered in resignation knowing 
that he had her completely in his power. As awful as it seemed, there was 
nothing she could do but submit to him, even though he was acting in this 
utterly depraved fashion. 

His hands coursed up her widespread thighs and rested just below her 
fearfully quivering cunt for an instant before he began stroking her moist 
trembling vaginal flesh. The terror-stricken young bride shuddered at his 
touch and tensed, but he continued circling his fingers over the glistening 
folds of her helpless pussy. After a moment, he used his thumbs and extended 
his middle finger to spread her cringing cunt lips apart and expose the 
little bud of her clitoris, bringing the tiny pleasure center to an 
involuntary erection. 

Becky forced herself to remain motionless and silent, knowing that she was 
his wife now and she had to accept his male demands. If she wanted to get it 
over with as soon as possible, it would be foolish for her to struggle any 
more. Jack almost seemed to enjoy prolonging the painful process as long as 
he could! 

"Look," he rasped hoarsely. "You just have to relax. You're going to enjoy 
this more than you think!" 

His fingers continued their maddening assault, probing at her warmly opening 
cuntal flanges while he slid his other hand down between her soft resilient 
ass-cheeks to nudge into the deep narrow crevice. She tried to stifle a 
throaty mewl as her tingling pussy mound mindlessly rose up toward his 
caressing fingers, releasing a score of lewd sensations that spread out from 
her trembling vaginal area. 

"No ... please, just stop for a minute!" she cried out. 

Instead, he moved closer on the flattened mattress, straddling her legs as 
his hands worked over the warm flesh of her slowly undulating pussy. "Now, 
reach in and take out my cock!" 

A low shudder of unexpected excitement passed through her struggling belly 
at his harsh demand. Oh God! What was happening to her? 

Becky used all of her willpower to fight this depraved and animal-like 
sensuality, yet the walls of her resistance seemed to crumble as he coursed 
his hands over her throbbing cuntal flanges. She could feel soft ripples of 
ecstatic pleasure spreading throughout her body, a pleasure so beguiling 
that she relaxed the straining of her thighs. Like some mindless love-slave, 
she rose toward the grinning young man, stretched out one trembling hand, 
and obediently began stroking the long thick bulge beneath his pants. 

"Daamnnnnnnnnnn!" he groaned, and pivoted the crotch of his pants closer to 
her fingers that were timidly pulling at his belt. He scooted forward toward 
the lovely blonde girl, his stomach pressing against her taut little belly 
so that the zipper of his slacks was within her easy grasp. She gripped the 
metal clasp of his pants and then - closing her eyes - slid it slowly down. 
His underpants sprang out instantly, bulging with the obscene thrust of his 
erected cock. 

Despite her fear, Becky Thompson moved her hands inside her husband's white 
jockey shorts until her fingers encountered his pulsating penis, which 
instantly seemed to leap up into the glove-fitting warmth of her hand. She 
squeezed tentatively at his burgeoning cock-shaft, and used her other hand 
to pull at the waistband of his underwear, tugging the shorts and slacks 
down until they were clinging at his knees. The entire length of his thick 
blue-veined penis stood out only a few inches from her eyes, the cock-head 
swollen angrily and its skin stretched so tight that it seemed to shine. 

"Get naked," Jack hissed, his eyes focused on her fingers that clasped 
around his swollen male staff. 

Without waiting for her to respond, and with his cock still thrust into the 
cup of her hand, he pulled her white bridal nightgown over her head, 
exposing the lush pink-tipped mounds of her proud young breasts to his 
obscene gaze. 

"Damn!" he muttered and let the nightgown fall carelessly to the carpeted 
floor, still fastening his gaze on her goose-bumped little nipples. 

After taking off his shirt and kicking his pants | to the side, Thompson 
began a slow grinding motion with his pelvis against her defenselessly 
upturned loins, rubbing the lust-swollen cock-tip against the warm moistened 
lips of her aroused cunt. The turgidly throbbing head traced a tantalizing 
path of sensation up and down her hair-lined pussy slit, probing at it until 
the moist layers of cuntal flesh parted and the sensitive under-ridge of his 
fleshy rod fit snug within her heated vaginal furrow. 

"Damn, you sure feel good," he murmured as he continued to grind slowly and 
steadily against her pinned-down pussy. He slid his penis up and down her 
vaginal crevice, fomenting a warm glowing sensation that tingled salaciously 
from the tip of her quivering, little clitoris down through her swollen 
cuntal lips and into her dilating vaginal passage. 

As the strangely exciting pleasure continued to mount from her young 
bridegroom's erotic probings at her moist vaginal slit, Becky began to 
rationalize away the need to struggle against him. Yesssss, she thought 
dimly, it feels toooo gooood, too delicious to even think of resistance . . 
. Becky could feel the ecstatic sensations destroying the fortress-like 
structure of her ingrained prudishness, thrusting her into a deep pervasive 
sensuality that now embraced every quivering inch of her naked young body. 
No ... she didn't understand why it should suddenly happen to her - perhaps 
a result of those long months of patient waiting before they got married, 
but now she was too turned-on to resist anything that he wanted to do to 
her. 

"Ooooooooh," she groaned beneath the desire-swollen face that pressed 
against her tear-stained cheeks. Despite her continuing verbal protests, she 
suddenly realized that her hips were betraying her real desire, moving as 
they were in eager little circles, rotating around his cock that rubbed so 
provokingly against her unprotected pussy. Slowly, of their own volition, 
her knees raised until they were locked in place on either side of his naked 
buttocks. The hair on his legs teased against the tender backs of her legs, 
expanding the lewd sensation in her pussy down to the tingling nerve endings 
of her smooth thighs. 

Groaning at her own shameless wantonness, the aroused young bride hooked her 
heels behind his knees, and, with a low bestial sound of hunger, her arms 
snaked around his neck and pulled his lips wetly down against hers. 

"Mmmmm," she mewled into his passion-contorted face. He jammed his tongue 
into her mouth and she sucked voraciously on it, soft erupting sounds of 
pleasure escaping through the warm juncture of their entwined lips. 

Becky gyrated her hungry young cunt in impatient grinding thrusts up against 
his lengthening cock, trying to draw it up into her quivering vagina. 
"Oooooh," she mewled below him, sucking again on his lips as his tongue took 
complete mastery of her mouth. 

Suddenly, Jack was looking down at her large firm breasts swaying out gently 
toward her ribs and swaying with each gasp that came from her throat. 

"Okay," he said. "You ready for it?" 

"Oh . . . yesss, do it, do it to meeee!" she whispered, totally out of 
control now with rampant desire. 

He reached down between their sweat-streaked bodies to grasp his 
blood-engorged penis, positioning it right above the trembling little 
opening to her heated cuntal flesh. 

"Do you want me to fuck you? Go on, say it!" 

"I want ... God! ... Please DO IT TO MEEEEE!" the young-bride was more than 
ready and there was no need to wait an instant longer. 

As though he were moving a guided missile into firing position, Jack placed 
the large rubbery head of his male hardness up against the tight little 
entrance to her virginal cuntal depths. Pausing for a moment, he nuzzled his 
throbbing cock-tip around in an impatient semicircle over the small, unused 
opening until her searing vaginal mouth suddenly gave way. With one smooth 
movement of his hips, he thrust forward, and his long burgeoning member 
sluiced steadily up between her chaste pussy folds. Becky groaned as 
something inside her snapped, her lips contorting spasmodically and her 
tongue running over his open, panting lips. 

"Oooooh, yesssss," she cried, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy as his 
sperm-bloated balls slapped flatly against her upturned buttocks. Her 
jerking cunt opened wetly for him as the powerful impact of his initial 
thrust drove her trembling young thighs even wider apart. 

The length and thickness of Jack Thompson's cock was even greater than the 
inexperienced virgin had imagined when she had first plucked it from his 
fly. It seemed now to fill her completely, brimming out at its base from the 
clinging vaginal lips and forcing her tightly fitting passage wider than she 
had ever thought possible. 

She whimpered up at him, suddenly wanting to be fucked to the point of being 
hurt. He had unleashed a lewd passion that she had never dreamed she 
possessed. And, with each excited grunt and smarting slap of his lean body 
on the smooth flat plane of her young stomach, she was becoming more and 
more excited! 

"Oh, yes, do it to me, do it to meeee," she screamed, digging her talon-like 
fingers into the soft flesh of his smoothly rotating buttocks. 

Jack gloated above her prostrate body, knowing that he had ignited her 
feminine fire . . . and that he was the one who could put it out. He pivoted 
up on his knees and elbows above her crazily thrashing body, watching her 
nibbling young cunt suck up and down the pulsating length of his stiffened 
cock. 

"Yesssss," her voice was strained with erotic tension. "Oh . . . Jack, do it 
to me like that . . . Oh yes, do it!" 

The young man slipped his hands under her frantically churning ass-cheeks, 
grasping them painfully, one in each hand. He grinned at her each low moan 
of passionate servile acceptance; he'd never thought he'd be able to bring 
her to this level of wanton excitement that she had risen to now! 

The shamelessly aroused former virgin flexed and unflexed her naked buttocks 
beneath his fingers and jerked her impaled vaginal flesh harder up onto his 
pummeling penis. At the same time, he squeezed and fondled her smooth white 
ass-cheeks, letting the resilient flesh ooze like bread dough around his 
clenching fingers. Then slowly and methodically he slid one hand toward her 
tight little anus, resting his outstretched middle finger in the damp 
crevice just above the tiny puckered opening. He felt her nakedly quivering 
buttocks tense beneath his hands when his fingertip nudged the anal ring and 
then felt her buttocks flinch back, inadvertently impaling herself on his 
outstretched finger. 

With a sudden thrusting stab, he pushed his probing finger up into her 
never-before-entered rectum, feeling the soft rubbery flesh yielding before 
his merciless attack. "Aaaaargh," she squealed up at him, thrashing her 
wildly pumping ass-cheeks around in his cupping hands. 

Jack pushed again, grunting in satisfaction as she twisted and came down 
hard with her buttocks, unwittingly assisting him in this outrageous 
violation of her defenseless anus. 

"Oh God, no! Don't do that to me," she called out. 

Jack was hardly conscious of his young wife's protests in his own racing 
excitement. He wormed his finger around in the warm buttery flesh, curling 
the fingertip deeper until he could feel the ridge of his own smoothly 
pistoning penis through the thin membrane that separated the two passages. 
The young bride rotated her buttocks on his finger, trying to escape, while 
gasps of pain bubbled from her contorted lips. Simultaneously, his long 
thick cock was plunging into her hotly palpitating cunt. The obscene 
coinciding rhythms of the dual invasion pinioned her tightly against the bed 
so that each thrust and withdrawal sent her naked torso into new spasms of 
pain-incited fury. 

"Oooooh God! It hurts, it hurtttts," she groaned in anguish. Her fiery 
vaginal passage was hot and moist from her former pleasure, while the 
rubbery channel of her rectum was filled now with two of his fingers that 
fucked in and out in a lewd rhythmic accompaniment. 

Jack pulled back his head so he could watch his beautiful blonde bride's 
face. It was something he couldn't miss, the sudden and complete surrender 
of her whole being to him. He was vaguely aware of her discomfort as she 
twisted and writhed beneath him, but he was unable to control his wild 
desire to fuck her gripping pussy while he sodomized her with his fingers . 
. . yes, it was lewd, it was depraved, he thought, but he couldn't help 
feeling an exhilarating sense of power sweep over him. 

"Oooooh, oooohhhh! Please stop, please stop!" she begged, gasping as though 
she were close to death. 

Wet smacking sounds reverberated through the bedroom, echoing back into 
Olaf's consciousness as he watched through a peep-hole in the wall of the 
bridal suite. His eyes raced avidly over the salacious scene. The young 
bride's sensual body was slick with perspiration and even the area above her 
naked straining breasts was wet. The plane of her rippling belly and the 
sloping area above her pussy mound were hot with the liquid passion that had 
spilled out in an unending flow from her moistly dilating cunt moments 
before. With each slap of the husband's sperm-filled balls on the wet 
crevice between her cringing ass-cheeks, Olaf could see more of her excited 
secretions pulsing out. He could see every lewd detail of the obscene 
pummeling of her naked young body - the young groom's two outstretched 
fingers fucking far up into her tightly stretched rectum, merged with the 
smooth pistoning of his long hard cock until the two skewering shafts became 
one impaling sword upon which she writhed like a squealing stuck pig! 

"Oh, please stop!" she uselessly pleaded into her husband's dark hair. The 
young man had swung her thighs up around his sweat-slick back, causing her 
uplifted buttocks to wave from side to side as he rammed his near-convulsing 
cock deep into her no-longer-virginal vagina. 

"Oh God! Oh God! Stop! Please stop!" she moaned as she felt his spearing 
cock-head swell deep in her belly. Her hot feminine fluids trickled down the 
wide-split crevice of her buttocks and flowed over his sperm-bloated balls 
as they slapped hard against his fingers that were driving up into her 
clasping anus. 

The helpless cries from his young wife started a hot aching pressure in 
Jack's loins, and, suddenly, he felt a heavy tingling in his violently 
expanding balls. He gripped the thrashing young blonde's buttocks and 
squeezed them with a cruel strength, drawing her up in mid-air and feeling 
her cringe as great gasps of passion began spewing from his own throat. 

"Oh . . . CHRIST, OH!" Jack snorted, his lips contorting and his face 
flushing over as his climax ripped through him. His strokes increased to 
their peak of fury while his pelvis smacked like a flat board against her 
splayed-open pink pussy lips as the rush of his geysering cum shot out from 
the spurting head of his cock and exploded deep into the liquid depths of 
her vanquished cunt. 

Becky didn't know how long her husband lay immobile on top of her. All she 
was aware of was his heavy breathing and the slow emptying sensation in her 
sperm-filled vagina as his rapidly deflating cock pulled gradually out of 
her cunt. Fearful thoughts ran through her head and she agonized over the 
future of their marriage, sensing that she could never live with a man whose 
love-making would be so brutal and inconsiderate, even if she still felt a 
faint tenderness for him as he lay over her body with outstretched arms. 

A few moments later Jack raised his large frame from atop his completely 
ravaged bride and stood from the bed looking half-dazed. Becky stared coldly 
at him, feeling those fleeting moments of compassion dissolve in a wave of 
pain and disappointment. She rolled over on her side and tried to gather her 
thoughts which still reeled with insane images of his pounding buttocks and 
chest. 

"I suppose you think we're finished, all washed up," she heard Jack's voice 
intone as if from a great distance. 

"At this point, I'm only trying to bear the pain," she gasped as another 
burst of hot rasping sensation shot through her violated loins. 

"As you might have noticed," he said, his voice rising in anger, "you were 
not exactly the willing bride." 

Becky heard him pad heavily across the room and she shut her eyes tight and 
buried her face in the pillow. So this is what sex is supposed to be like, 
she thought to herself. For years she had dreamed of a perfect wedding night 
that had now been submerged in a chaos of violent and obscene fucking. And 
that was what it had been ... fucking! Not the tender love-making she had 
wanted so badly. 

"What are you thinking of doing?" Becky said to her husband, who now stood 
before her dressed in his bathrobe. 

"First, I'll get dressed, second, I'll have a drink, and, third, I'll have 
another drink," he said and opened the portable bar across from the bed, 
withdrawing a single half-empty bottle of scotch from the compartment. 

Becky sighed. It wasn't enough to have a raving sex maniac in the room. In a 
few minutes, Jack Thompson would be drunk, and she didn't know what else she 
would have to contend with. 

He sulked with his scotch by the half-open window, some of the late night 
traffic noise wafting up from the street below. The honeymoon's over, Becky 
thought ironically to herself. Tomorrow, providing that Jack would come out 
of his surly mood, they could begin to pick up the pieces. She got up and 
walked across the room, exposing herself not only to her husband but also to 
the lecherously prying eyes of Olaf Jorgensen. 

What a sweet young fuck she would make, Olaf smiled, if only he could have 
put it to her the way he wanted. Jack Thompson was a novice at all this. He 
didn't really know how to get to these bitches, how they groaned over a man 
shoving his wet mouth between their legs and licking his tongue into their 
hot moist little pussies. Thompson probably didn't even know you could make 
a bitch cum like that, just by playing with her splayed-open vagina a little 
with your hands and then running your tongue into the soft curls of her 
pubic hair until you had found the small erect bud of their clitoris. 

But now the bastard had cum and all the fun was all over, Olaf thought as he 
took one last look at the ravished young bride, one of her breasts standing 
out, still red and hard at the nipple from her husband's insane gnawing and 
sucking. 

The Swede had moved from the wall and walked slowly to the window 
overlooking the street to the bay of Palma. After three years as a menial 
desk clerk, he was ready for a drastic change. His demeaning job was not in 
keeping with the expectations he had when arriving in Mallorca five years 
ago. At that time, he had imagined himself becoming an instant success in 
any number of deals connected with the booming tourist trade on the island. 
But his optimism had vanished as he watched his meager savings squandered 
away on foolish enterprises. In the past year, things had grown worse as he 
had fallen into the company of Palma's "low life," men who operated mainly 
at night and whose incomes were made through illicit trade, smuggling and 
prostitution. 

Now he retired to his room for the night. He had gotten his money, had 
watched the fucking, as wild and chaotic as it had been, but somehow that 
was not enough, not nearly enough. He needed something more and he would 
kill for it if necessary. 

Chapter Four 

The next day, Jack Thompson was changing his clothes in the bridal suite of 
the expensive Hotel Del Palacio. His mind raced over the argument he'd just 
had with Becky when she hadn't wanted to return with him from the caf to 
their hotel room. 

Coming back from American Express, the young husband had just picked up his 
new bride for their siesta when they'd run into Fritz Schneider and 
Christina parked in a Jaguar XKE on the hotel's wide circular driveway, and 
the German had offered to drive them around the island. He had been in no 
mood for anything but another go at his young wife in bed, while Becky had 
been insistent on accompanying the German and his wife ... too insistent, it 
seemed to Jack. He just stood there and watched as she scooted into the back 
seat of the Jaguar with Christina, her face flushing with a resurgence of 
enthusiasm. Jack had been so furious that - without realizing what he was 
doing - he had abruptly walked off and left her in the car with the couple. 

Then, for some reason, Christina came back for Jack. The young husband 
smiled awkwardly as he opened the door of his hotel suite and saw the 
curvaceous Italian woman standing there, an expectant smile playing across 
her lush lips. 

"Darling, I thought you'd never come out," Christina murmured huskily. 

"Well, here I am," he said. 

"Every bit of you," she smiled. 

Jack crossed in front of her and sat down on the edge of the huge sofa. 

"My, you are quiet," Christina said from where she sat in a plush chair 
beside the open window. Suddenly, she reached over to touch his knee, 
causing Jack to blush as a lust-enticing view of her hugely set breasts 
swept before his eyes. "Aren't you wondering why I came back?" she said. 

"As a matter of fact, I was. Where's Becky?" 

"She's off for a drive with Fritz. I decided to come back to get you. I 
suggest we go get a drink and we'll join them for dinner later." 

"How are we going to get there?" Jack lowered his sights until he had a 
complete view of the young Italian's smooth bronzed thighs. 

"We'll take a taxi," she said. * 

* 

* 

They had several drinks in the hotel bar before Jack realized it was late 
afternoon. Now, in the taxi, all Jack knew was the continuous lurching as 
they sped around hairpin turns and the teasing assault of Christina's hands 
and breasts against his body. 

The taxi reeled around one sharp angled bend in the road. She fell against 
him, her lips brushing with hot breath down his neck while one hand played 
over his thin summer slacks at his excitedly throbbing penis. Jack glimpsed 
a patch of acid blue sea, and, out of the comer of his eye, saw terraced 
hills rising up to meet huge mountains. 

Then the taxi swerved down a curved gravel drive and approached a large 
stuccoed house set back in a grove of trees. Christina pulled abruptly away 
from him and sat up, straightening her hair for a moment. Outside, the only 
signs of life were the chirping birds and a few distant lights blinking on 
at the approach of evening. 

Jack watched the taxi disappear down the circular driveway and suddenly felt 
very much alone. He looked past the house at the impressive palm-shrouded 
swimming pool and the sculpted terrace that merged with carefully pruned 
gardens. Whatever Fritz Schneider's enterprises, they were more lucrative 
than he had imagined. Then his thoughts turned painfully to his wife. He 
hoped she wouldn't sense what had happened with Schneider's mistress in the 
car. But Christina seemed lighthearted as she swung her hips in a 
provocative motion up the marbled steps to the door of the villa. 

Jack followed her into the enormous living room and sat down in the nearest 
chair. 

"They're not here," Christina said simply as she poured a glass of Pernod 
for Jack from the living room bar overlooking the swimming pool outside. 

"What do you mean . . . not here?" Jack exclaimed, suddenly rising. "You 
told me that she and Schneider were waiting for us." 

Christina slid her tightly clad hips across the plush white sofa towards 
him. "Why don't you just sip your drink and relax?" 

Jack shrugged in confusion. He felt the Pernod's mind-glazing effect as it 
raced through his already reeling brain. "Well, where are they? What's the 
explanation?" he asked wearily. 

"There's no explanation! Perhaps Fritz drove Becky back to the hotel," she 
said. "Yes, that's probably it. They waited for us a few hours and, when we 
didn't appear, returned to Palma. Fritz will drive you back to Palma when he 
returns. Meanwhile, we're free to entertain ourselves!" 

Christina smiled and excused herself, leaving Jack alone with his smoldering 
thoughts. 

Now Becky was back in Palma, Thompson reflected, probably expecting him to 
be waiting for her in the hotel room. It was growing completely dark 
outside. A strip of fading purple lay on the flat horizon and a star rose 
over the garden, casting its pinpoint light across the swimming pool. Jack 
already felt less guilty about being alone with Christina. He was even 
beginning to wonder what was keeping her! He sipped the Pernod and laughed 
sardonically to himself. He had half a mind to give the drink to Becky 
sometime and see what would happen ... it looked like he was going to need 
all the help he could get. When it came down to it, he actually had no idea 
how he would manage to overcome his wife's puritanical attitudes. 

His eyes ran over the seemingly endless sweep of thick white carpeting in 
the long living room. Behind the sofa where he now sat, the wall was formed 
by sliding glass doors that opened out onto a patio circling around the 
large swimming pool. When he thought about it, he couldn't see how there was 
any danger in a little petting with Christina. Schneider would be back soon 
enough to prevent anything more involved from happening. But suddenly, he 
was worried as to whether or not the sexy brunette girl had any further 
lovemaking with him in mind at all. Perhaps, he thought with a sudden 
sinking disappointment, they would simply sit and have coffee while they 
waited for Schneider. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard 
Christina's footsteps padding softly down the hallway. 

"Here I am in something more comfortable," her low voice declared from the 
doorway. 

Jack turned and saw the voluptuous Italian woman in a transparent black 
negligee which brought out the emphatical naked curves of her breasts. The 
young husband shuddered and felt his pulsating cock lurch out hard against 
his slacks. 

"You like, darling?" There was a suggestive glint in her eye. 

"When you said something more comfortable, I guess you meant it," he gulped. 

"Now you just come along with me," the young brunette smiled. "I'd like to 
show you something." 

In a semi-hypnotic daze from the Pernod, Jack followed her down a long 
hallway to a large room with an enormous semi-circular bed in its center. 
The walls at the head and sides of the large bed were adorned with erotic 
paintings in a classical style. Jack walked up to a wall and looked closely, 
noticing that each of the subtly colored scenes showed people sucking or 
licking one another's genitals. 

"Mmmmmmmmmm," Christina smiled, "do you like those paintings?" 

Jack sat down weakly on the bed. "I no longer know what or even how to 
think," he gasped, feeling the dark-haired girl press against him as she sat 
down on the bed. 

Schneider's mistress looked at him, studying the conflicting emotions 
crossing his face. She was confident that she held him completely in her 
power now. It was only a matter of enjoying him and timing the sex act so it 
coincided with Schneider's plans. From the light flickering down at the far 
end of the estate, she assumed Schneider and Becky were in the guest house. 
Schneider must have seen the taxi arrive and would allow her at least a 
half-hour to warm up Jack before he brought his young wife up to the main 
house. 

Young Thompson experienced one last rebellion of his conscience as he looked 
across the bed at the enticingly clothed Italian woman. Goddamn! He just 
couldn't do it! But then he watched his own hands, moving out from his sides 
of their own volition. They began to caress her firmly tanned thighs below 
the sheer black nightgown which had ridden up to just below her rounded 
buttocks when she sat down. Then his eyes lifted to her succulent breasts 
whose pink-looking little tips were pointing up visibly through the 
transparency of the sheer black lace material. 

Christina moved closer and Jack turned questioningly toward her, his hands 
trembling as he lifted them to encircle her small waist. His grip 
strengthened as he grew more confident, running his hands across the small 
of her back and then circling around to her tautly rippling belly. He moved 
his hand down toward his slacks and unzipped his fly. 

"Mmmmmmmmm," Christina cooed as Jack's long thick cock burst into the air 
through the unzipped fly. Jack reached for Christina's hand, wrapping it 
around his expanding cock and skinning it back so that the giant head popped 
out from the thinly-guarding foreskin. Christina slowly massaged his erected 
penis while his hands trailed from her erect nipples down over her stomach 
to her excitedly parting thighs. He lifted the skirt of her nightgown to 
place his hand directly on her moistly throbbing cunt. 

"Ooooooooooh," the young woman moaned and pulled at the massively pulsating 
penis with one hand, fondling his sperm-inflated balls with the other. 

Jack insinuated his extended middle finger up into her softly lubricated 
cuntal opening. He raised his hips slightly from the bed while she pulled 
his jockey shorts and pants down off his feet, then he slowly lifted her 
scanty nightgown up over her head, and removed the rest of his own clothing. 

Their naked forms in the mirror at the head of the bed looked sun-bronzed 
and perfect to Christina. She admired the way her breasts swelled large and 
evenly tanned next to his muscular chest. Then a salacious tingle rippled 
through her as she watched his head bend down to her hardening nipples. That 
cock of his really looks huge straining out against my fingers, she thought 
to herself. Tiny droplets of seminal fluid seeped out gem-like from the 
slit-like opening, clinging to her gently grasping palm. She watched 
rhapsodically as his hips began a slow rocking movement in rhythm to the 
ceaseless milking of her fondling fingers around his blood-engorged cock. 
Jack bent his head and she felt his lips wrap around one pulsing nipple, 
then begin gently twisting and churning it with his tongue into further 
excitement. 

The young brunette experienced a mind-blowing thrill as Jack's hands moved 
from her throbbing vaginal lips to her passionately flexing buttocks. He 
pulled her slowly forward and thrust his jerking penis close to her 
wide-splayed pussy. 

"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Christina moaned to his thick rigid erection rubbing up 
and down between her inflamed pussy lips. "Lover, do you want to lick my 
pussy? Come on ... crawl down between my legs . . . Lick Christina's pussy 
for her!" 

For a moment, Jack lay there dumbfounded, hardly believing his ears, and 
then he choked out a raspy sound "Christ!" the lust-fired young husband 
swore as he crawled down between her already uplifted knees. 

"Goddamn!" he grunted again as his bulging eyes feasted on the soft raven 
triangle of pubic hair up between her legs. Almost worshipfully, he put his 
hands on her knees and forced them farther apart. Then he slithered forward, 
down toward the parting, delectably moist cuntal lips. With his thumbs he 
spread them even further apart to reveal the pinkly glistening pussy flesh 
that beckoned him to lick there. 

Abruptly, his head dropped between her widespread thighs. 

Jack's mouth began a gentle sucking on her outer vaginal lips, drawing them 
in and out in time to the incessant flickering of his tongue on her swollen 
clitoris. His hands massaged her passionately straining buttocks and inner 
thighs, while his hot eager mouth continued to kiss and caress her dilating 
cuntal lips. Then, as he gained confidence, his tongue - hot and quivering 
with a life of its own - shot like a darting insect up into the warm liquid 
depths of her vagina. 

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaah! Wonderfulllllll! Lick my pussssssssy!" Christina's words 
drained off into incoherence. Suddenly, in a movement of uncontainable 
desire, her churning abdomen rose up impatiently to meet his hungry mouth. 
Her smooth tanned stomach rotated obscenely like a belly dancer's, meeting 
his probing tongue with abandoned up-thrusts of her pelvis. 

Jack began licking from her tightly puckered anal ring to her clitoris in 
one galvanizing sweep of his searing tongue. He was forced to slip his hands 
even further under her buttocks when her wildly squirming pelvis kept 
slipping away from his mouth; he squeezed her soft, resilient ass-cheeks as 
though he were a sculptor molding womanhood. There was nothing rational 
about what he was doing, but for some reason, he just didn't give a damn 
anymore. 

Damn! What a sweet-smelling pussy! he thought, drawing her slender legs up 
and around his neck. Christina's tightly rounded buttocks spasmed 
electrically beneath his touch. He could tell she was clamoring now for her 
climax by the wildly aroused twists and squirms of her belly. He began 
licking his tongue over her cunt with a fury, reveling in the knowledge that 
her orgasm was mere seconds away and that he could dispense or withhold it 
from her, depending on his own whims. 

Schneider's Italian mistress lay there feeling wanton pleasure drift over 
her in wild oscillating waves that caused the flat plane of her belly to 
ripple, and her thighs to quiver in lewd abandon. Her tongue-spread pussy 
was begging ceaselessly for fulfillment and, as a soul-shattering orgasm 
approached, she was barely conscious of her obscenely squirming hips that 
swiveled as though on ball bearings, grinding her hungry vagina harder and 
harder up into his eager face. 

"God, lover, I'm going out of my mind! Lick it! Lick my cunt!" she wailed, 
tangling her hands in the young husband's dark hair and pulling his long 
working tongue deeper and deeper up into her hungrily grasping cunt. 

Jack began tongue-fucking the young brunette's tight little vagina with 
obscene worming thrusts. And then abruptly, like a crack of sizzling 
lightning, Christina came! Her climax was sudden and, after all the time 
she'd thought of seducing Jack, it rocked and convulsed her naked body in a 
pleasure so sweet and intense that her muscles seemed to turn to liquid, 
they became limp and, with a long expiring groan, she shuddered and 
collapsed. 

Christina lay panting for a long moment, then watched in the mirror as Jack 
scuttled up farther between her legs. He seated himself obscenely on top of 
her reclining body, probably unaware, Christina thought, that she had been 
guiding him toward this lewd act all afternoon. She lifted her head and 
peered down at the full length of his long hard cock, greedily wetting her 
lips at the very sight. 

"Ooooooooooh," the Italian woman moaned. I had no idea you were such a man." 

Jack groaned and stroked the lust-thickened penis slowly in his hand, 
pulling it down over her heaving belly to the hair-lined lips of her exposed 
cunt below. But Christina arched her hips and wantonly directed his 
desire-swollen cock back up her curvaceous body toward her face. 

"There's no reason to hurry," she murmured and lifted her head hungrily 
toward Jack's rock-hard penis. 

Jack's loins ached with lusty anticipation as he moved his blunt cock-head 
toward Christina's excitedly parting mouth. It would be an incredible sight, 
he thought, to see his thrusting penis spewing its hot white load of cum 
into Christina's face and down over her full brown breasts. He pictured his 
burning semen trickling down over her chin to form shining white streams 
between those creamily tanned breasts. This was one thing which Becky would 
never let him do, he said to himself, his guilt banished by the mind-fogging 
libations of Pernod. Now he moved his jerking cock closer to the alluring 
woman's willingly parted lips. He was going to fuck his cock into her mouth 
and Christina was obviously as willing to do it as he was! 

Her tongue flicked out from between her teeth and slid over the small 
pulsing opening at the mushroom-like head. Then she leaned forward and began 
to suck his whole hotly quivering penis into her mouth, the muscles in her 
neck straining with the movement. 

"Oooooooooooh, yes," Christina moaned and pulled herself more closely to 
him. "I want to suck your beautiful cock!" 

Suddenly, Jack felt her moistly clasping lips closing around the 
blood-engorged tip-end and there was a deep gurgling in her throat as he 
slid his penis deeper into her mouth. 

God, she was actually sucking his cock! he thought, suppressing a desire to 
thrust his desire-hardened penis all the way down her throat. Instead, he 
changed positions and sat down beside her on the mattress, keeping his 
thickened cock shoved tight between her clinging lips. He almost felt sure 
the luscious brunette would choke from the sheer size of the throbbing shaft 
disappearing between her roundly ovaled lips. But instead she began sucking 
at it rapaciously as though she had waited through all eternity for this 
moment. 

Jack began a slow rhythmic fucking motion 'into her open mouth, the mattress 
squeaking beneath them as they lurched into a lewd rocking motion that 
excited Jack further. This was too much! He watched her cheeks puff outward 
as he wormed his cock slowly into the hollow, as he slithered his cock back 
on the out-stroke. The adulterous young husband let the throbbing glans lay 
for a spine-tingling second on the tip other warm, saliva-moistened tongue. 
Christina's eyes were half-closed and glazed with a wild ecstatic look that 
made the blood pound heavily through his aroused rod of flesh. 

"Oh, suck me, run your tongue over my prick," Jack groaned, and suddenly 
thrust deep into her throat, making her cough and sputter for breath. 

But she didn't stop sucking on him for a moment. "Mmmmmmmmmmm, yesssssssss," 
she gurgled. "I love sucking you off!" 

Schneider's mistress fingered the swollen sac of his testicles with a 
practiced hand, sending wild pulses of pleasure through his cock-shaft as 
she wormed her tongue around the hard rubbery edge, tickling the sensitive 
ridge beneath the hugely-expanding head. She was sucking him like a wild 
woman! The deeply plunging pole of male flesh seemed to vanish into a lewd 
lengthening fusion of Christina's face as Jack tightened his buttocks 
muscles and drove in harder . . . deeper yet! 

Great swirls of heat were building in his churning balls as he watched her 
face working slavishly above his sweating loins. He felt her fingers and 
hands seize his rotating buttocks, drawing his sperm-filled cock further 
into her thirstily clasping mouth. The muscles of his stomach tightened 
until he thought they would snap from the pressure as he arched his back up 
off the bed. He thrust almost all of his wildly jerking shaft deep into her 
throat, his mouth contorting crazily and deep guttural sounds spitting from 
between his tightly clenched teeth. 

His whole spasmodically stiffening body convulsed as gush after gush of 
seething sperm erupted from deep in his testicles and raced steam-like up 
the full length of his eagerly plunging cock. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH," he gasped 
and his lips bared back from his teeth. His cock began a sudden wild 
staccato jerking that flooded his burning sperm in bullet-like spurts down 
her desperately gulping throat. She swallowed rapidly while with one last 
earth-shattering upward lunge he emptied the last of his hot male semen 
between her tightly locked lips. Then he moaned in complete fulfillment, 
feeling his cock slowly deflate in her impaled mouth. Christina continued 
the gentle sucking pressure, drawing every last tiny drop of his piquant 
sperm from his battered penis. 

Finally, he released his hands from her head and sank back onto the bed, 
sighing in total sensual satiation. Christina lay her head on his chest and 
trailed her fingers caressingly down his still heaving belly. "You can rest 
for the moment," she chuckled softly. "But, remember, you still haven't 
fucked me!" 

Chapter Five 

Becky stretched out in a lawn chair, wearily holding a gin and tonic in her 
hand. She was at the guest house on Schneider's large estate, sitting on the 
deck-like patio that jutted out over the sea. The three gin and tonics she 
had drunk and the long wait for Jack and Christina had put her in a 
hopelessly dejected mood. Her head reeled as she shifted her eyes from the 
glare of the brilliant sun. She looked at the glass in her hand, feeling 
overcome by her own personal desperation. 

A torturous six hours had passed since she and Schneider had left Palma at 
two o'clock. It seemed years ago now. After the endless ride - with Fritz 
Schneider casting lewd, hungry glances at her all the while - they had 
finally arrived at his villa around four. 

The terraces were dotted with fish pools and statues hidden under the shade 
of twisting olive and fig trees. For practically an hour she had walked 
around, not letting her enthusiasm be dampened by Schneider's openly probing 
glances. Schneider had sat down, out of breath, on a stone bench while she 
drifted off through an orchard of orange and lemon trees situated at the far 
end of the pool. 

The older man had stood up and walked through the orchard toward her, saying 
something about wanting to show her the guest house although she still 
hadn't seen the main one. Becky had become uneasy again, but she followed 
him about a quarter mile through pine forest until they came to a small 
brick cottage overlooking the sea. 

And so another four hours had passed ... now, at eight o'clock, Becky sat on 
the cottage porch and watched the huge orange sun sink like an egg yolk into 
the Mediterranean. Schneider was inside the house, mixing her fourth drink 
of the afternoon. Where is Jack anyway? she wondered with growing 
irritation. Her mind raced over several hair-pin curves on the mountain 
road, but Schneider reassured her that an accident was highly unlikely. 
Besides, she thought now, if there had been any trouble the police would 
have contacted them by this time. 

Becky sipped anxiously at the gin remaining in her almost empty glass. With 
mounting sadness, she watched as the sun disappeared over the fading purple 
horizon. If only Jack were here to enjoy it with her, if only he had been 
here all afternoon! 

She had really drunk too much, she realized, noting a slight dizziness as 
she tried to fix her gaze on some distant palm trees. 

"My dear, why don't you come inside?" Schneider asked from the door, 
interrupting her thoughts. "It's getting quite cool out there." 

"No, I like it here," Becky said fearfully. 

Schneider entered the patio and she took her drink, sinking back into the 
chair. 

Suddenly, he strode to the deck railing and waved. Becky's heart rose 
hopefully in her chest. She leaned forward in her chair, peering over the 
edge of the deck to the ground almost two hundred feet below. Her heart fell 
in disappointment. A thin, middle-aged man stood at the edge of the pine 
forest that bordered along the water. 

"Where's Eric?" Schneider grinned over the railing. 

Becky couldn't make out the reply. She had the feeling it was in a different 
language. 

"Send him up," Schneider ordered and waved again to the old man. Then he sat 
down in a deck chair beside Becky. 

Schneider chuckled at her look of curiosity and explained with relish, "Eric 
is a German shepherd. He's totally faithful to his master as German 
shepherds always are. When I die he will have to be killed. It would be 
fatal for another man to attempt to control him." 

Suddenly, Becky started in her chair as the huge black dog tore through the 
house and leapt onto the patio. He turned toward her and growled, his white 
fangs jutting from his black gums as Becky rose quickly out of her chair and 
backed toward the railing. 

Schneider laughed as the dog approached her, his tail wagging and nose 
bobbing over her naked thighs as he sought to get his nose under her dress. 

"Pet him, stroke him. He wouldn't hurt you unless I signaled. He is trained 
only to kill at my command." 

"I can't, really I can't." Becky felt woozy, her legs already unsteady from 
the liquor she had been drinking the past several hours. 

"Eric!" Schneider hit the dog playfully on the rump and sent him scampering 
off the patio and out through the house. 

"German shepherds are a remarkable breed," Fritz said proudly. "I had my 
last dog twelve years. When his teeth fell out, I had steel false teeth put 
in. He was not a dog to tangle with, let me tell you." 

Schneider watched as the young girl returned to her chair and bent forward, 
inadvertently exposing her youthfully swelling breasts to his lewd gaze. She 
was well-formed in a classical fashion, her hips flaring from a waist as 
thin as the stem of a wine-glass and her tanned thighs tapering down to 
perfectly curved legs. 

His head reeled with lust-inciting thoughts of her naked and defenseless 
body, helplessly impaled on his skewering cock. But all that would come soon 
enough, he reminded himself. Hans had just signaled that Christina and Jack 
were finally at the main house and so it would be only a matter of time 
until the fun began. 

"Could you drive me back to Palma now?" she finished off the drink and asked 
Schneider. "Christina must've stayed in town to shop." 

"She'd better not have," Schneider joked, evading her question. 

"Still, I'd better go," her words were slurred from the alcohol. 

Schneider looked at her softly cascading blonde hair with an amused 
expression. He had caught the first signs of pleading in her voice, and it 
made his blood race, foreshadowing the further desperation she would exhibit 
before submitting her curvaceous body in total subjugation to him. 

"My dear, we can't leave just when the stars are coming out," a cruelly 
teasing tone crept into his voice. 

"Oh, it is late!" Becky exclaimed and struggled to rise out of the chaise 
lounge. She wobbled unsteadily and the dark-haired man grabbed her by the 
elbow. Her hands found the deck railing and grasped it tight. Leaning over 
the deck, she looked out to sea with blurred vision. The sky had turned a 
velvety black and was dotted thickly with stars. 

As if in a dream, she felt Schneider move closer to her. His arm reached 
around her back to support her swaying body. Then she felt his hand 
inserting itself between her upper arm and side. Slowly, the hand pressed 
forward, moving so gently she was hardly aware of it at first. Then she felt 
the soft pressure cupping against her sweater-clad breast. He ran his hand 
in a soft circle over her breast and traced his fingers gently upward until 
they touched the hardening nipple. Becky tried to move away from him, but 
his fingers firmly clasped the tingling nipple. They massaged it until she 
felt a burst of pleasurable sensation pulse through her suddenly throbbing 
vagina. 

"Don't ..." Becky began. "Please don't ... touch my breasts." 

Suddenly, the young blonde wife's knees gave way and her body fell against 
the German. She felt him place one of her arms around his shoulder, one of 
his own around her back. Then they were moving out of the guest house and 
through the forest, branches snapping and her feet sailing over the hard 
earth as he half-carried .her back to the main villa. * 

* 

* 

"You took quite a spill," Schneider chuckled from where he stood beside the 
bed. 

Becky looked dazedly around the room - it was a bedroom. Moments before she 
had come to, dressed only in a large robe. 

"Where are my clothes?" she asked, a trace of alarm in her voice. She tried 
to stand up and had almost succeeded when the dark-haired older man put his 
hands on her shoulders and pushed her firmly back to a seated position on 
the edge of the bed. 

"Where are my clothes?" she whimpered again. 

"Be quiet. You're in no condition to go home." 

She shuddered as Schneider sat down beside her on the bed; he roughly pulled 
at the clinging nylon robe the blonde had found herself in. 

"No, don't do that!" the terrified girl gasped as the front slipped open, 
exposing her ripely uplifting young breasts and small girlish waist. She 
pulled the top of the robe closed, but his hands moved farther down her 
trembling body. He pulled at one of her thighs and her slender legs jerked 
open. Becky's eyes widened in disbelief at the lewd expression transforming 
the older man's face. He sighed deeply in appreciation, his eyes focused on 
the thin coral slit gleaming between her blonde, hair-covered vaginal lips. 

"Please let me go," Becky sobbed as she tried to wrestle her thigh from his 
grasping hand. "I want to ... get back to my husband." 

Schneider chuckled. "You want to see your husband?" 

"Yessss ..." Becky followed Schneider's gaze over her shoulder. At the head 
of the bed was what seemed to be like a thick window because she heard no 
voices. There was only the image of Christina's ovaled mouth working 
hungrily up and down over Jack's thick upstanding cock! 

"It's a two-way mirror," Schneider said. "But adjusted so that they can't 
see us." 

Becky's disbelieving young eyes bulged wide, while her throat tightened and 
she swallowed painfully. An immense semi-circular bed like the one they were 
perched on extended from the other side of the mirror into the next room. 
Her husband and Schneider's wife were so close that she could see a lewd 
sex-sweat glistening over their thrashing bodies. She felt she could touch 
them, almost reach out to tear their lust-entwined bodies apart on the other 
side. But when her hand groped forward it struck against cold glass ... a 
sharp pain shot through her knuckles. 

"Hans signaled to me that they were back when we were sitting on the sun 
deck," Schneider muttered, his warm breath grazing heatedly over her neck 
and shoulders. "I suspected this was going on when they didn't come down to 
join us at the guest house." 

Tears welled up in the young wife's eyes as she peered through the glass at 
her husband's and Christina's nakedly embracing forms. She wasn't even aware 
of Schneider's hands that curled around her own small waist, his fingers 
anxiously splaying down over her abdomen. God! All she knew was that she had 
never been so hurt and disgusted in her life. Her husband's 
desire-lengthened cock was sunk deep into Christina's tightly clasping mouth 
until only the thick base showed from between her encircling lips. As he 
thrust in deeper, Becky expected the curvaceous brunette to gag, but she 
didn't. Instead her cheeks expanded obscenely as he plunged his stiffened 
cock in farther. Then they hollowed as he slowly drew out, her elastic lips 
clinging to the withdrawing rod of male flesh. He pulled almost entirely out 
and her lips clung to the long hard penis as if held there by unseen 
fingers. 

Becky felt Schneider lean forward to a cabinet beside the huge bed, without 
removing his hand from her waist that was barely covered by the half-opened 
robe. "What are you doing?" she said, but didn't take her gaping eyes from 
the mirror. 

"Just getting something that will make us feel a little easier in this 
trying moment," Schneider whispered. "Pernod." 

"Give me quite a bit, please," Becky murmured in a sinking voice. 

Her hand trembled as Schneider wrapped her fingers around a glass. She heard 
the older man sigh and felt him pull his body closer against hers to get a 
better view. Becky felt uneasy about sitting at such close quarters with the 
strange man, but now it was almost a comfort! The liquor burned violently 
going down and she was grateful for that, too. It was an appropriate 
accompaniment for the rapid change her emotions were undergoing. 

"Your husband seems to have struck up quite a friendship with Christina," 
Schneider broke the heavy silence. 

Becky flinched, but didn't remove her tear-filled eyes from the mirror. 
"Give me more Pernod," she said in a stone-like voice. 

Downing the drink quickly, she relaxed a bit as the liquor raced immediately 
through her veins. It restored the light-headed feeling she had experienced 
at the guest house. Well, she would get drunk this evening, she thought 
angrily as she glanced up at the mirror, as drunk as she possibly could! 

Jack's features were contorted almost unrecognizably as though he were 
undergoing a great anguish. He thrust his massive penis deeper between the 
brunette's ovaled lips, lifting his hips slightly and beginning an excited 
sawing motion into Christina's tightly drawing mouth. Her head rolled 
slightly on the pillow and saliva trickled from her open mouth, running in 
tiny rivulets down her lustfully hollowing cheeks. A wild animalistic look 
shone from her passion-glazed eyes. One of her hands slipped out from her 
side, racing down Becky's husband's flexing belly until she had brazenly 
cupped her fingers around his sperm-bloated balls. 

Becky watched in horrified amazement as Jack drove forward like a 
pile-driver, sinking his penis into Christina's sucking mouth until his 
coarse black pubic hair brushed over her nose. His balls danced obscenely 
between his legs and slapped against Christina's chin in unison with his 
hard thrusts. And then, suddenly, he was bucking over the naked brunette as 
his male cum began spewing in thick spurts into Christina's encircling lips 
and brimming out from her hungrily swallowing mouth. 

In a daze, the young blonde wife turned from the mirror and noticed 
Christina's husband sat even closer to her than she had realized. His large 
hands were splayed across her abdomen, pressing through the thin robe. His 
fingertips teased at a smoothly naked section in the center of her belly 
where the robe had fallen apart. 

"Will you take me home now?" she pulled the robe together, no longer caring 
about anything, not even his hands pruriently gripping at her flaring hips. 

Schneider's hands pressed painfully into her flesh. "I'd do anything to 
oblige you, but it seems clear that circumstances require that we remain 
here," he said. "We don't want them to see us, after all." 

"I don't care if they see me," Becky turned momentarily back to the mirror. 
Jack sprawled on the bed and grinned proudly at Christina as she pulled a 
blue kimono over her naked body. The young Italian said something and moved 
toward the door. 

"I'm afraid we're stuck with each other," Schneider said, his smile becoming 
apparent as Becky's eyes adjusted to the dark. "It wouldn't do to have 
Christina see you coming out of my bedroom." 

Becky's head reeled as his meaning became clear. "This is your bedroom?" she 
asked faintly. 

"I'm afraid it is," Schneider chuckled. "That is her bedroom and this is 
mine. Separate rooms give us privacy, while the mirror, as you can see, 
lends a certain proximity." 

Becky gathered her courage. She would leave whether Christina saw her or 
not. She almost hoped the brunette would report seeing her to Jack, 
imagining his guilty anguish and fear as he suddenly realized she had been 
in the next room during the entire adulterous episode! "Well, I guess one 
bedroom is pretty much like another," she said in a determined voice. "That 
it's yours doesn't make that much difference." 

Schneider's head shook in gleeful disagreement. "My dear, we've got to be 
sensible," he grinned. "There is the matter of your robe. You must realize 
that you're wearing absolutely nothing beneath it. What if Christina called 
your husband and he saw you in this?" 

The young wife didn't answer as the thought sank in. 

"That would be a very bad situation. Worse than the one we have now. Isn't 
that correct?" 

Becky sighed after another pause. Tears brimmed her eyes as she realized 
that was true. Jack would never realize that she had been innocent of any 
wrong doing; in his eyes, it would appear that she had been unfaithful just 
like he had. "Oh," she snapped suddenly. "This is all your fault. You didn't 
have to undress me simply because I fainted." 

"Now we mustn't be waspish with each other," the German chuckled 
confidently. 

Becky shuddered at this new gloating tone in his voice. Or perhaps, it had 
been there all along but she had been too dazed to notice! She recalled 
Schneider's hands moving intimately around her waist and his hot mouth 
pressed against her ear. Still, she was trapped with this man and there was 
absolutely nothing she could do about it. 

"I want to leave this room," she said in a firm voice. 

"All right," he conceded. "But we'll have to wait a moment. When Christina 
returns to the room, we'll leave." 

In the silence, Schneider waited patiently and glanced at her shimmering 
blonde hair. What a lovely thing, he thought, resisting the impulse to 
stroke her hair. There would be time enough for that later. He enjoyed her 
standoffish attitude for the meantime; when she submitted to him, it would 
make his victory that much more complete. 

Becky lifted her head periodically. Christina still hadn't returned to the 
room and Jack was stretched out totally naked with his head buried in the 
pillow. He certainly seems to be at ease, she thought, and wondered just how 
familiar he was with the experience of being in a strange woman's bedroom. 

"Please, give me something more to drink," Becky muttered in a nervous way 
and turned back to the mirror. 

"Would you like gin and tonic?" Schneider asked, reaching to the bed table. 

"No, just more Pernod, please." 

Fritz hesitated in getting her more of the passion-stimulating liquor. He 
let his eyes roam over her curvaceous body for a moment after she had turned 
away. The robe fell casually apart, half-exposing her naked body from her 
full fleshed breasts down over her belly almost to her blonde-fringed pussy 
where she crossed her legs. His hands fumbled a bit with the glasses as he 
studied the soft blonde hair that ran in a feather-line from tanned abdomen 
to her sparse-curled cunt. 

Becky turned away from the mirror. "When will Christina come back?" she 
asked uncomfortably. 

"Any second," Schneider said. 

"What do you think she's doing?" 

"Probably trying to fix something to eat. I'm afraid she's not very used to 
cooking." 

"Oh," Becky said, wishing she could get out of her robe and into her clothes 
again. "What is Jack doing?" she asked, not wanting to look. 

"Smoking a cigarette," Schneider gloated. 

Once again, the young wife felt infuriated as the image raced through her 
mind of Jack lounging guiltlessly on another woman's bed after he had been 
unfaithful to her. 

"What time..." she began, but her words choked off as she heard footsteps 
padding softly down the hall. 

Fritz stiffened on the mattress. "That is Christina." 

They listened as the steps continued lightly down the hall. Then there was 
the sound of a door opening and closing. 

"Well?" Schneider said, as though he were going to let the young girl go. 

"Just a minute," Becky said and stood up slowly. "I want one last look so I 
won't forget this moment." 

She turned away from the dark-haired man to look in the mirror. Once again 
she was surprised to see her bridegroom and the voluptuous brunette together 
in the next room. She had hoped it would have gone away, that there would be 
no mirror and it would all prove to be a nightmare! 

Becky watched as the seductive Italian girl moved to the bed and set down a 
tray with a bottle and two glasses. Now Christina dropped down beside Jack, 
and they propped their pillows against the headboard and sipped at their 
glasses like a married couple! One of Christina's hands lay on Jack's flat 
muscular stomach, absentmindedly rubbing her fingers in tiny circles. 

"No, no, no," Becky half-groaned. "Oh, no!" 

On the other side of the mirror, Jack's deflated cock was beginning to come 
to life again under Christina's skillful stroking. Her hand trailed down to 
his coarse black pubic hair, moving lazily through the stiff tendrils that 
cushioned his exhausted penis. Her teasing fingers slid down the crevice 
where his thigh joined his loins and softly cupped his flaccid balls. Jack's 
legs tensed slightly and moved apart. The naked young woman's hand settled 
gently on his splayed-out thigh while she stroked the sac with feather-like 
fingers in a tender movement, kneading his testicles as though she had all 
the time in the world. Jack's buttocks hollowed and uplifted, slightly 
forcing his susceptible testicles up against her lightly stroking fingers. 

"They're going to do something again," Becky whimpered. 

As though she were mesmerized, the young wife moved away from Schneider and 
crossed the dimly lit room like a sleepwalker until she stood mere inches 
from the mirror with her legs pressed against the bed table. She leaned over 
the table toward the mirror until the wooden edge sent a sharply fluttering 
stab through her pussy, making her hardly notice that Schneider had come up 
behind her and laid his hands on her shoulders. 

"No, no, no," she murmured unintelligibly. 

Jack's depleted cock expanded against his stomach, filling with blood and 
lustfully lengthening right before Becky's unbelieving eyes. Then his virile 
male form stiffened, his lips curling backwards from his teeth as though he 
had whimpered or groaned. His eyes had an excitedly glinting expression and 
one of his hands circled over his heaving stomach, trailing up to the hair 
on his chest. 

Oh God, I'm enjoying this! Becky realized when she tried to pull herself 
away from the mirror, but found that her body wouldn't move. 

Schneider sensed the passionate change in the blonde wife's mood and let his 
hands roam slowly down Becky's arms until his fingers rested against her 
full breasts. He pressed his chest softly against her thinly covered back, 
being careful not to frighten her by any abrupt action. The obscene sight 
was exciting him, too. A soft groan escaped from his tightly clenched lips 
as Becky unknowingly moved her young buttocks back against his throbbing 
penis. 

Jack's rock-hard cock now stood out like a tree trunk from his panting 
belly, a tiny bit of lubricating fluid glistening on the desire-swollen 
head. One of Jack's hands reached for his stiffened cock and drew the heavy 
foreskin back, sliding the skin down his taut male organ and exposing the 
thick rubbery head. Then Christina removed the hand and placed her own in a 
gently massaging hold around his burgeoning cock-shaft. With a gasp, Becky 
watched as the woman's fingers gloved around Jack's rising cock, making a 
clasping sheath of her curling hand. The brunette gripped his masculine 
rigidity with a gentle hold and pulled on the foreskin in a lightly teasing 
gesture. Then suddenly, he lifted himself up and pulled Christina's robe 
from her shoulders, tossing the nakedly alluring brunette over onto her 
back. 

He's going to fuck her now! thought Becky. 

Although she knew it should have upset and angered her, the exciting 
realization thrilled through her stomach in an endless series of lewd 
quiverings. She fought the nerve-shattering pulsings beating uncontrollably 
now through her moistening vagina. It wasn't right. It was just as wicked as 
what Jack was doing! Tongue-like flames of desire licked over her young 
body, coursing over her dampening thighs and streaming wildly through her 
excited pussy. 

Without realizing it, she parted her own lust-slickened thighs as Jack 
mounted himself over the Italian woman's splayed-out body. The blunt tip-end 
of his long thick cock was poised just at the entrance to Christina's pinkly 
shining cunt, and the shapely brunette spread her knees apart on the bed, 
balancing her whole well-endowed body in a pose of lewd, submissive 
anticipation; her softly trembling vaginal lips were exposed and lifted up 
to him like a licentious offering. 

Becky felt a silky wetness lubricating her throbbing cunt and a soft mewl 
escaped from her gaping mouth as she felt Schneider's hands move slowly and 
gradually up to cup her aching breasts. She tried to resist the ever 
increasing pleasure, but the attempt to shift her ripely quivering mounds 
out from under his hands merely increased the passion-inciting pressure 
against them. His palms seemed to burn right through her robe, searing 
against her rising nipples. 

Schneider's wife moved her hands down her body and used her fingers to pull 
her moist pink vaginal lips farther apart, as Becky's head reeled in stunned 
disbelief. The last bit of resistance snapped in her head and her pulsating 
cunt pressed against the bed table, swaying back again in an obscene 
rotating movement. It was as though she was not sure if she could end this 
anguish better by grinding forward against the bureau or backward over 
Schneider's erected penis that was wedged now between her trembling 
ass-cheeks. 

Jack's penis was stretching the brunette's clasping cuntal hole, then 
disappearing between the hair-lined lips in one long smooth stroke that 
seemed to reach into the deepest recesses of Christina's vagina. Her arms 
lifted in the air and wrapped themselves tight around his neck, her buttocks 
salaciously uplifting and grinding as she strained to get his penis deeper 
up into her proffered pussy. Jack levered himself up on his elbows and drew 
his long impaling shaft slowly out of her impaled cunt until all but the 
inflated head was exposed to view. Becky's eyes widened at the sight of the 
pink cuntal flesh that clung to his hardened penis like a straining rubber 
band. Then he thrust hard up into her widespread cunt, beginning a rapid 
buffeting motion that joggled their lewdly entwined bodies crazily on the 
bouncing mattress. 

"Oohh - oh my God, my God!" Becky whimpered in total identification with the 
brunette when Jack plunged the enormously thick penis back up into 
Christina's urgently smoldering vaginal slit. It looked like his rampaging 
cock would split the Italian girl's tight little cunt apart! The last 
vestiges of Becky's will to resist faded as she felt Schneider's hands slide 
beneath her robe, his fingers playing over her throbbing nipples, pulling 
and gently tweaking them into a tingling stiffness. As if the two areas had 
some magical connection, a wild flame of desire throbbed through her 
steaming pussy. She shivered and swayed with unwanted arousal as his hands 
raced back to her shoulders and quickly removed the robe. 

The helplessly excited bride trembled as the cold silky material slid down 
her arms and fell in a soft pile at her feet. She was completely naked now, 
and the older man's warmly pressing body sent chills of wanton pleasure 
racing over every inch of her exposed flesh. Fritz continued to hold her in 
an embrace from behind, running his hands over her sensitive nipples and 
down her quivering belly to her parting thighs. His hands |coursed over her 
rounded buttocks and down the backs of her legs, hungrily exploring her 
defenseless body. Becky trembled at the warm pressure of his mouth on her 
neck, feeling it move in a tantalizing slowness along her smooth skin. She 
felt one finger worming a tingling path down the spreading crevice between 
her swaying ass-cheeks and a soft groan rose from her heaving chest. 

"Spread your legs a little wider," he panted in her ear. 

"No, no! Stop! We have to stop," the drunken young wife whimpered back at 
him, unable to stop the wild grinding of her aroused body back against his 
penis that was still wedged in between her buttocks. 

"You have no choice. Be quiet or I'll call your husband," the older man 
grunted and forced her to lean obscenely over the table. She fell on her 
elbows with her naked breasts dangling over the table top and her face just 
inches away from the mirror. 

The young blonde's fearfully shuddering buttocks were lifted defenselessly 
high in the air behind her. She shivered as she felt Schneider's hand press 
down on her leaning shoulders, squashing her breasts more firmly against the 
table top. His other hand moved down the crevice between her uplifted 
ass-cheeks to one quavering thigh. 

Behind her, Becky heard Schneider breathe more deeply, pressing his chest 
tight against her curving back until his hairy body slid down the responsive 
backs of her legs. He began obscenely licking from her rectum to her 
clitoris, the tantalizing pleasure spreading over her whole burning loins as 
he finally flicked his long searching tongue up into her tiny puckered anus! 

The youthful bride groaned and tried to pull away, but soon found herself 
involuntarily spreading her trembling legs even farther apart. In the corner 
of her eye, images of her husband and Schneider's wife drifted by on the 
mirror, but she no longer saw them. She bent her head and closed her eyes, 
submitting her naked body to the lewd tongue that was racing over every inch 
of her burning cunt and anus! 

Chapter Six 

"Look up, my dear," Christina murmured, and pulled her naked body from 
beneath Jack Thompson. 

"Damn," he said, angered momentarily by the abrupt interruption. He was just 
about to cum when she'd slipped his rock-hard penis from her grasping cunt. 
But now she began lasciviously jerking his cock back and forth while with 
her other hand she reached up and adjusted a mechanism over the bed. 

Jack's vision came momentarily into focus. Christina adjusted the dial over 
the bed once more, and the image of his and Christina's bodies in the mirror 
dissolved. Where they'd seen themselves, another room appeared. 

"A two-way mirror," she explained. 

A large semi-circular bed like the one they lay on was pushed up against the 
wall right next to the mirror. The blurred picture of two nakedly entwined 
figures came into view. Jack could see the man was kneeling behind the girl, 
his hands stretching and pulling at her proffered ass-cheeks as he wormed 
his mouth between her upraised buttocks. The girl bent on her arms over the 
bed-table . . . her passionately flaring ass-cheeks high in the air, her 
legs spread salaciously apart. 

"Do you recognize him?" a strange new tone of excitement came into 
Christina's voice. 

Jack grunted. He nodded his head slightly as his eyes focused a little 
better. The girl's blonde hair cascading softly down her arms from her 
lowered head shielded her face from view. The man turned toward the mirror . 
. . suddenly the congressman's son gasped. "Fritz Schneider! I thought he 
was in Palma!" 

"Darling, there's nothing to worry about. Becky's back at the hotel. . . 
Fritz brought this young blonde back from Palma to enjoy himself with." 

"Man . . . she's really going out other mind," Jack felt his cock stiffen 
impatiently in Christina's hand. The thought of the young girl being licked 
into spasms of pleasure sent shivers of licentiousness shooting through his 
loins, and he shifted his weight until he was once again lying directly atop 
Christina. Arching his hips, he wormed the tip-end of his hardened cock up 
into the brunette's dilating cuntal opening. With each long smooth stroke, 
he conjured up blurred thoughts of fucking the blonde after he'd finished 
with Christina. Yes, after Schneider was done with her . . . But there was 
no rush. Becky must be back in Palma now, and he had the whole night in 
front of him. 

On the other side of the mirror, Becky writhed and squirmed under the 
mounting pressure of Fritz Schneider's licking tongue that ran down her 
lustfully secreting pussy slit. She glanced down between her legs and 
watched his tongue plunge in between her splayed cunt lips. 

"Oooooh," she moaned, uncontrollably. "So good!" 

The helplessly aroused young blonde locked her hands firmly behind his head 
and pressed the flicking tongue deeper and deeper up into her throbbing 
cunt. Suddenly, the delicious sucking sensation stopped. She felt the German 
lift his head and rise to his feet behind her. He pushed her to the bed 
where she fell on her back. 

"Now ... for the next stage, Becky," he looked down at her. "In common 
language, it's called ... fucking!" 

"What . . . oh, God," she gasped, seeing him kneel up between her widespread 
legs and begin inching forward. 

She closed her eyes to shield herself from the humiliation of lying under 
him stripped naked and defenseless against his cruel gaze. Tears of 
confusion welled in Becky's eyes as Schneider's hands worked over her 
pebble-hard nipples and fondled the voluptuous roundness of her breasts. 

"Nooooo!" the pain shot through her as his teeth fastened on one firmly 
erect nipple. 

Then, down below, she could feel the blunt rubbery hardness of his cock 
brushing lewdly against her moist vaginal opening. 

"Oh God . . . you're too big ... you'll rip me open!" she burst out. 

She felt his hands close around her thighs, gripping them tightly, his 
fingers digging into the resilient white flesh. "Reach down. Take my prick 
in your hands," he said. 

Without thinking, she did as he'd commanded, and reached down between their 
naked bodies. She felt his cock jerk spasmodically as her fingers curled 
tightly around his burgeoning shaft. 

"Go on, put it in," he gritted his teeth. 

"Oh no, I can't," she said. "It'll hurt!" 

"Do it!" he hissed. 

"No, I can't! Please, let me go!" she pleaded. 

Schneider lunged forward, flattening his hairy chest against her heaving 
breasts. At the same time he reached between their bodies and took his erect 
penis between his fingers, guiding it forward. She felt the huge cock-head 
part her cringing pussy lips, drawing the moist cuntal flesh apart in a slow 
thrusting movement. 

"Aaaahhh, noooo, nooo," she moaned as the skewering rod of male flesh 
plunged forward another painful inch. 

She involuntarily opened her thighs, permitting the lust-crazed German 
further access to her almost virginal cunt. Suddenly, the entire bulbously 
throbbing cock-head was inside, and he was fucking in and out of her in long 
smooth strokes that smacked her firm white ass-cheeks lewdly on the mattress 
beneath them. 

Momentarily, he withdrew, raising up in a push-up position to look down at 
their naked bodies - one so curvaceous and white and the other burly and 
covered with masculine hair. Becky's entire vaginal furrow was quivering in 
fear as he thrust his desire-thickened penis forward and saw her pussy lips 
part under the sheer force of his powerful entry, revealing the tiny pink 
clitoral bud standing erect amongst the moist vaginal folds. 

The German gave a laugh that ended in a snort. "Tell me you want it," he 
said. 

"What?" 

"Tell me you want me to fuck you!" 

Becky winced, turning her head away from his hot fervid gaze. She couldn't! 
She wouldn't do it! With this one proclamation she'd be under Schneider's 
complete control. 

"Say it, you bitch . . . say it," a savage animal look burned in his eyes. 

He thrust his hips forward again, and the captive young wife cried out in 
agony as his huge cock completely disappeared up into her tightly stretched 
cuntal opening. 

"Oh God, no," she intoned, suddenly feeling the wanton wildness in herself 
matching the German's obscene command, and fighting desperately to control 
her masochistic desires. 

Becky gave another cry of distress as another powerful thrust of his hard 
dominating penis into her helplessly stretched pussy forced her legs to jerk 
up in the air. He began ramming and withdrawing with an ox-like strength, 
brutally and lewdly drilling in and out of her tight little cunt with his 
blood-engorged cock. 

His fucking was merciless and wild, and his hands were all over Becky 
Thompson's naked body as he pinched and massaged her fearfully quivering 
breasts, leaving scratches on her stomach and bruises on her shoulders and 
breasts. He was fucking her and she could do nothing to stop him - she 
didn't even know if she wanted to stop him! 

Each savage shove was simultaneously hurting and pleasing the helpless young 
blonde as he pounded his massively pulsating cock up against the cushioned 
tip of her cervix, causing her to wince at each heartless stroke. He was 
fucking her so hard that the force of his lunges was shoving her squirming 
body across the bed, and her head was thumping painfully against the 
mattress. 

"Oooooohhh," Becky's whole body suddenly rose up in writhing delight, and 
she opened her mouth and thrust her own tongue with wanton abandon deep into 
his sucking throat. 

Fritz was fucking into her as hard and violently as he could now, with his 
arms straight down at his sides and his claw-like fingers digging cruelly 
into her spasmodically undulating buttocks. 

Becky was ready to cum; he could feel it as her long slender legs jerked out 
widely on either side of his heavy body and snaked up around his 
hard-driving ass-cheeks. She squirmed her jerking buttocks in obscene little 
circles in time to the rhythm of his long hard cock that skewered so 
viciously into her totally impaled vaginal furrow. 

"Oh fuck me ... ooooohhh," she moaned finally abandoning all thoughts of 
resistance and giving herself over completely to this animalistic plundering 
of her nearly virginal body. 

Their bodies moved in perfectly coordinated strokes, his rigidly throbbing 
cock stroking deep up into the farthest recesses of Becky Thompson's womb. 
"Ooohhh, God, screeeew me, do it to me haaaaaard! Ooooooog, I'm cuuumming . 
. . cuuuming . . . CUMMMMMING!" 

Fritz felt an aching pressure building deep within his semen-filled balls, 
and he gripped her frantically wriggling ass-cheeks and squeezed their 
pliant flesh with a crushing strength, feeling her convulse from head to toe 
as great gasps of passion began spewing from his own throat. 

"Shit. ... oh ... fuck . . . damn!" he gasped and groaned, increasing the 
viciousness of his strokes. His pelvis smacked like a wooden paddle hard 
against her moistly trembling cunt as his long thick cock rammed far up into 
the hidden depths of her obscenely violated belly. He put his hands down 
behind her knees and shoved her widespread thighs up over her shoulders 
until her knees were on either side of her head and her tight little pussy 
was defenselessly exposed to whatever carnal outrage he wanted to perpetrate 
upon it. 

In one final lunge, the German ground his lust-hardened penis up into her 
splayed-open cunt as far up as it would go, rousing groans of passion from 
his lips that once again locked tightly to hers. His hands again clasped her 
squirming buttocks in a death grip, the ache in his heavily bloated balls 
becoming unbearable. 

Fritz gasped into the moist cavern of her mouth, felt the wild staccato 
bursting of his penis and then, with a deep soul-shattering roar that went 
on and on, his seething cum exploded far up inside her writhing belly, 
spewing its liquid heat deep into the rippling depths of her clasping cunt. 

Becky went limp and weak beneath Schneider's final lunging strokes into her 
ravished pussy. Her whole body felt more blissful than it ever had before - 
much more than when Jack had tried to make her cum last night. But now she 
sensed the pain coming back to her and suddenly she shuddered as a new wave 
of guilt washed over her shamelessly exposed young body. 

No matter how she rationalized, she had finally succumbed to Fritz 
Schneider's brutish love making and actually loved it. But one thing was 
certain: Jack must never know, even if he had made love to Christina. 

"That was quite a performance," Schneider grinned above her. 

She raised on one elbow and looked at him. "Yes, I guess it was." She 
dropped her head in abject humiliation at her own illicit admission. 

"I'd never have known you were the same demure young thing I met in the caf 
yesterday," he said. 

She closed her eyes, trying to make the shameful feeling go away. But she 
couldn't. Good God ... hadn't this madman had enough ... would he persist in 
degrading her until not an ounce of pride remained? * 

* 

* 

Just before Becky had cum, her husband Jack, in the next room, felt his 
climax sky-rocket through his youthfully aroused body. He could feel 
Christina's hands reach for the ballooning sac of his testicles and begin 
desperately milking them . . . "Damn!" he exclaimed, "ooohhh, fuck!" 

The hotly clasping walls of the Italian woman's cunt sucked around his 
pistoning cock like a nibbling mouth, drawing his flooding male semen deep 
up into her womb. Jack felt himself go limp and collapse down on Christina's 
body. He closed his eyes and experienced a whirl of incoherent images 
flashing through his mind. Opening his lids again, he saw the weird pattern 
of two bodies exposed on the surface of the two-way mirror. Christina lay 
sprawled out on the bed beside him, her body slowly pulling away as his 
depleted cock grew limp and slid with a lewd sucking sound out of her 
sperm-filled cunt. 

"Jesus . . . isn't it strange?" he said, "that must be exactly how we 
looked." 

"He seems to be making that young girl happy," Christina said. 

Jack squinted at the mirror. The blonde was raising and lowering her roundly 
straining buttocks as Fritz squeezed her ripe young breasts with his hands. 
Damn! She was hot! Hotter than anything he'd ever seen before, he thought. 

The nakedly writhing bodies in the mirror were blurred and his mind was 
still hazy from the Pernod and exhaustion of lovemaking, but gradually the 
twin images became clearer to him. 

"Now, look carefully," Christina said, "look at her face ... what do you 
see, darling!" 

" I - oh. God ... no!" each line of the girl's lust-contorted features came 
into sharp focus. His heart leapt in his chest in disbelief. "No ... no, 
Becky! It can't be!" 

He lurched up from the bed and pressed his face against the mirror. Fritz 
Schneider's long hard cock looked obscenely huge as it began to wildly spew 
its pent-up cum deep into his wife's milking cunt. 

Jack watched Schneider's sperm-inflated balls smacking hard against Becky's 
passionately upturned anal crevice as the last of his spurting semen drained 
from his jerking cock. Then he saw Becky's mouth gape open and suck on the 
German's tongue . . . 

The young husband stood up from the side of the bed and quickly pulled on 
his pants. 

"Where are you going?" Christina smiled. 

"It's about time I pay a friendly visit on our next door neighbors," he 
said. 

He went out into the hall and without pausing pushed in through the door to 
the adjacent room. 

"What . . . ?" Schneider exclaimed as Thompson moved rapidly across the 
threshold. 

"Let me at her ... let me at my wife," he struggled past Schneider. 

"I can't let you touch your wife right now," he heard the German say in a 
low voice. 

"What?" Thompson looked at him incredulously. "She's my wife, and I'll do 
what I want with her." 

"Not until you cooperate with me, you won't," Schneider said, thick white 
cum still dripping from his deflating penis as he began dressing with his 
back turned to Jack. Then, he said: "I would like to make a bargain with 
you. That is, if you don't mind, and I'm sure you won't. To be quite blunt, 
I'm in the drug business, you might say I run an international pharmacy," he 
turned and faced the young husband. "One of my products needs immediate 
shipment back to the states. I've decided that you, Mr. Thompson, will be 
honored with the opportunity to do the job." 

"So that's your racket," Jack shrugged with exasperation. He looked down at 
the cringing form of his wife, and said, "I should have known as much." 

"You will leave here tomorrow at noon," Schneider went on. "A plane leaves 
Palma at five-thirty for New York. When you return your wife will be 
released." 

"Are you crazy?" 

"Business is business," the German smiled. 

Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Two thuggish looking men entered and 
immediately laid hands on Thompson. There was a brief struggle, but the 
superior strength of three men, including Schneider, against the young 
husband proved to be too much. 

Now the two burly men were leading Jack down the hall. The German stood over 
the bed looking down appreciatively at Becky. Everything so far had gone 
exactly as planned, but he must play his cards right if he wanted his scheme 
to have its desired affect on the young newlyweds. 

"What - what's happened?" Becky whimpered. "Why did they take Jack away?" 

Schneider had to laugh at the bride's innocence. "He'll be all right." 

"I - I don't understand." 

"You will . . . soon." 

She rose up in bed, drawing the covers over her nakedly swaying breasts. 
"Take me home ... I want to go home." 

"I'm afraid that will be quite impossible, Mrs. Thompson," he said. "We're 
having a little party tonight, and you and your husband are both invited to 
attend." 

Looking at this man who had done such obscene things to her helpless young 
body only moments before, she realized suddenly that something was terribly 
wrong. "Where's Jack? I want to see him. Let me see my husband," she cried, 
pulling the bedspread around her naked young body and dropping to her feet 
on the carpet. 

"You'll see him when the time comes," the German smiled wickedly. "But now, 
we've got to prepare you for the party." He laughed dryly and added, "After 
all, you are the guest of honor, my dear." 

Chapter Seven 

Before she knew what was happening, the heavy-set German had thrown a robe 
around the still-dazed young blonde and was walking her down a darkened 
hallway. This isn't real, it must be a nightmare, she thought, noticing they 
were passing through a section of the house she hadn't seen before. 

"Now . . . easy does it," Schneider said, putting his arm around her 
trembling shoulders. 

Now they were moving down a series of stone steps into an ancient 
wine-cellar. The large vaulted ceilings had a spooky cathedral-like 
appearance, and Becky balked with fear. She ran her hand over the cold stone 
wall in an attempt to halt their approach to a large, dimly illuminated room 
that opened up only a few steps away from the staircase. 

"Where are we going? Where are you taking me now?" she shuddered helplessly. 

"Relax . . . everything's going to be all right," he said, soothingly. 

"No, it isn't. It isn't going to be all right," she tried to turn around, 
but Schneider continued to push her forward. "Don't be afraid," Schneider 
urged her into the center of the room. 

Torches hung from the rock walls, flickering unevenly up into the arched 
ceilings. She saw a huge fur-covered bed and an enormous mural depicting 
human figures in obscene positions of lovemaking. Schneider observed her 
looking at one portion of the painting, and said, "It is a great work of 
art." 

"God, it's disgusting," she said, but still she couldn't take her eyes off 
the lewd copulating figures. 

"Each to his own," he laughed. "One need not always judge art on the basis 
of beauty alone. For example, in this masterpiece, the act of love is fused 
into what one thinks about when one dreams. Maybe we all want to do these 
things, but we just won't admit it." 

"I never dreamed anything like that," she shuddered. 

Schneider was lost in his own thoughts for a moment. The human animal had a 
powerful instinct for survival, but every animal had its own limits of 
resistance. It would be only a matter of time before he'd be capable of 
discovering those limits in Becky Thompson . . . then, she'd be his to do 
with as he liked. The final arrangements for the heroin smuggling would be 
completed by the end of the evening, he gloated to himself, but he knew it 
would be wise to follow the planned outline of his scheme to the letter. If 
the photographs of the young bride didn't show her enjoying the final 
bestial violation of her voluptuous body, then the major portion of his 
blackmailing power over the American couple would be lost. 

"Come over here, my dear," Schneider guided the young girl to the foot of 
the large fur-covered bed. "It's about time we began our preparations for 
tonight's fiesta." 

Becky started when she saw another man walking heavily into the room ... it 
was Olaf Jorgensen, the hotel clerk, whom the Scandinavian woman had warned 
Jack about that morning. 

"God . . . he's ..." she began when Schneider broke her off. 

"I understand that you are already acquainted with Mr. Jorgensen." 

"I just can't believe it," she whimpered. 

"He's here to help you with the arduous proceedings that lie ahead of us 
this evening. He's got a streak of wildness in him and you'd be wise to act 
as if he were your friend ... a very sensitive friend who is capable of 
great outbursts of violence if provoked." 

The German turned and walked calmly out of the room. On an impulse, Becky 
cried out, but in a moment the door swung ominously shut. 

"He's crazy, you know," the young blonde turned hopefully to Olaf. "We ought 
to get out of here at once." 

"Who the hell do you think I'm working for, lady?" the heavily built man 
looked at her with amusement. 

"You will let me go, won't you?" she said. 

"Damn if I will," he said. 

She began to walk away from him toward the door when she felt his hand on 
her shoulder. He spun the girl around and seized her by the waist, then 
grabbed the front of the robe and tried to open it. Her hand came up and 
slapped him across the face, drawing a thin scratch across his cheek. 

"You shouldn't have done that. That was a very stupid thing to do," the 
hotel clerk said. 

Withdrawing his leather belt, he stood back and lashed it across her knees. 
She shuddered with the pain, then felt another burning slash across her 
fearfully quivering thighs. 

"That's the last time I'd like to use it," he said, almost pleadingly. "You 
know I don't want to hurt you if I don't have to. Now take off the robe. I 
want to see your tits." 

She found herself methodically undoing the belt to the robe and dropping the 
light covering material onto the floor at her feet. 

"Shhhhit," he feasted his eyes on the blonde's young curvy body. Her breasts 
jutted out like twin white mountain peaks, and trembled as the cool cellar 
air wafted across the sensitively stiffening nipples. Becky's enticing body 
seemed to draw the Swede magnetically toward her, as though some powerful 
animalistic force held sway between the two of them. "I can't do anything to 
you," he was saying, "Fritz told me to lay off . . . But I just gotta see 
how it feels ... to touch ..." 

"No ... I'll scream! Help! Help meee!" she tried to pull away from his hands 
that reached out to her round full breasts. 

"You aren't supposed to do that," another male voice came from the opened 
cellar door. 

Becky sighed in relief, as the startled Swede looked away from her. "Hans . 
. . what the hell are you doing here?" 

The gardener closed the door behind him. "She was yelling so loud it was 
lucky that Fritz didn't hear her." 

"Look, Hans," Olaf said. "Isn't she just about the most beautiful thing you 
ever saw? When's the last time you laid your hands on anything like this?" 

The gardener gazed silently at the naked young blonde, and said, "Probably, 
never, Olaf, not that I can remember." 

Olaf removed a small vial from his back pocket. "This stuff should do it. 
One taste and she'll be crawling all over us," he said. 

"What is it?" the gardener looked at the hotel clerk suspiciously. 

"Something Schneider cooked up in his devil's workshop. It's like Spanish 
Fly ... turns young girls into nymphomaniacs!" 

"Fritz won't like it." Hans couldn't remove his eyes from Becky, who stood 
motionless beside the hotel clerk. 

She began to turn away from the two men when Olaf seized her arm and pulled 
her back to him. "He doesn't have to know about it." 

"No! Let me gooo, pleeease!" 

"Hold her . . . Hans, get behind and keep her still," Olaf said in a 
commanding voice. The licentious picture of her lush young body, nakedly 
exposed to both of them, was enough to send the gardener's cock into 
pounding erection against his pants. He shuffled up behind Becky and grabbed 
her arms just below the shoulders. 

"That's right..." the Swede grinned lewdly. "Now open your mouth honey - 
Olaf's got some nice tasting medicine." 

"No . . . I can't... help! Please, let me go. Hans, don't you understand you 
can't..." 

The gardener tightened his grip, sending a razor-sharp pain shooting through 
her violently quavering flesh. "I said open that pretty mouth wide!" 

Becky swung her head away, but the Swede held her chin and pulled her jaw 
painfully open. 

"Aaaaaahhhgg," she moaned as he tilted the vial of clear liquid and poured 
its contents down her throat. She coughed, but it was useless. Olaf held her 
mouth shut, tilting back her head so she unwillingly swallowed the sweet 
tasting substance. 

"Just hold her that way for a while," Olaf stood back and stared with deep 
appreciation at the proud young bride who would be pleading for his cock in 
just a few short minutes. 

Olaf and Hans guided her to the bed and eased her gently down onto her back. 
Now they stood staring down at her lust-inciting nakedness, watching for 
some sign that the drug had taken effect. 

"You notice anything ... how do you feel?" Olaf said. 

"I - I don't know what you're talking about," she whimpered, painfully aware 
of the defenseless position they'd forced her into. 

"What if Schneider shows up?" the gardener turned anxiously to the Swede. 

"You know what Fritz has been up to while we've been doing the dirty work 
for him?" the heavy-set man laughed. 

"What?" 

"Jesus Christ, he's been fucking her," Olaf said. 

"Scheist," Hans swore in German. 

"Why don't you go on and do it to her," Olaf said to the gardener. "It might 
just warm her up." 

"There's nothing I'd like better." The lean older man studied the young 
blonde's provocatively curvaceous form spread out before him on the wide 
mattress. He sat down on the side of the bed, letting his eyes play over the 
lushly swelling mounds of her breasts on down to her blonde pussy hair 
nestled between her thighs. He ran one finger greedily, along Becky's 
delicately shaped ankle, and she drew up her leg. 

"Don't move ... leave it there," the Swede commanded, and reached for his 
belt. 

The young bride flinched automatically, then lay still. 

The gardener struggled to loosen his clothing without removing his eyes from 
her blonde cuntal "vee" that seemed to beckon him to throw all caution to 
the wind. His pants and underwear fell in a disorderly heap to the stone 
floor, and he stepped out of them gingerly. Hans was a man in his early 
fifties, but the gardening work had made his body as lean and fit as an 
athletic man of thirty. He pulled off his stained work shirt and stood 
before the young blonde completely naked, his long thick cock jutting like a 
flag pole straight out from his hairy groin. 

"No, no, please, no," Becky groaned as Hans dropped down on the bed beside 
her. 

"Make it quick," Olaf said impatiently, "we ain't got all night." 

The gardener's rough callused hands circled around Becky's narrow girlish 
waist as he pivoted himself up between her widespread thighs. Becky 
scissored out her long shapely legs, trying to throw him off, but the effort 
was useless. He gripped her flaring hips until he'd wedged himself up to an 
obscene sitting position on her stomach, his throbbing cock dangling just 
below her breasts and the velvety softness of his balls nestling on her 
belly. 

Becky twisted her head to the side, thinking that he was going to plunge his 
erect penis into her mouth as she'd seen Jack doing to Christina. "Oh God 
... please stop, don't do it," she moaned, her glance reluctantly falling on 
the gardener's cock, extending its lust-hardened head just below her 
melon-large breasts. 

"I never fucked a woman between the titties before," a hungry expression 
flickered over his face. 

Becky closed her eyes in terror as a tiny drop of male lubricant seeped like 
a small seed-pearl from the small hole at the end of his bloated glans. She 
felt him readjust his weight on her belly, shifting his firm buttocks closer 
to her nakedly heaving breasts. He wasn't going to put it in her mouth . . . 
God ... she thought, it was going to be something even more obscene and 
depraved! 

The gardener placed his hands on the incredible softness of her breasts and 
drew them close together with his palms, at the same time thrusting his 
burgeoning shaft into the deep valley between their tantalizing fullness. He 
cupped his hands harder around the sensual mounds and pushed them even 
closer together until only his blunt cock-head appeared at the top. 

"Oooooohhh," the helpless young bride gasped as she watched his massively 
pulsating penis slithering up and down between her breasts, the rubbery 
glans at the end straining almost to her chin! 

"Oooooohh, God, no, oooohhh," she could feel his hot stalk of male flesh 
pulsing licentiously against her sensitive flesh and an uncontrolled 
responsive tingle shot through the trembling mounds. 

"That's it, Hans, get her good and hot," she heard Olaf's voice from 
somewhere in the half-darkness. 

The gardener's hands massaged the large succulent orbs of her breasts, 
tweaking the erect little nipples into diamond-chipped hardness. He squeezed 
the stiffening buds between his thumb and forefingers, and a warm throbbing 
sensation raced through her quivering belly down into her loins. 

"Oh no ... not . . . thiis," she protested, beginning to strain against a 
new unwanted arousal surging through her helpless young body. 

Hans' cock stiffened into even greater hardness when he felt her begin to 
writhe beneath him. He knew it would only be moments until she would be 
begging for it ... the drug was slowly taking effect, insidiously 
transforming the delectable blonde's low muted protests into low groans of 
pleasure. 

Her continuous uplifting movements only enveloped the gardener's 
blood-engorged penis deeper up between her voluptuously formed breasts. He 
thrust back and forth feverishly, increasing the speed of his strokes, his 
mind reeling with overpowering excitement ... nothing else mattered but 
sinking his lust-knotted hardness up between her warmly enclosing mounds. 
He'd waited a lifetime for something like this and all else was forgotten 
... he didn't hear Olaf's voice urging him on, nor was he aware of his own 
animalistic groans of pleasure as he kneaded the soft roundness of her 
breasts with impatient hands he no longer controlled. 

"Shit," he sighed, looking down to see tight wedges of flesh protruding in 
white bloodless ridges between his straining fingers. His head dropped to 
one berry-like nipple and he began nibbling hungrily on it. 

"Ooooooh, God, God -" the young bride cried out. She felt Hans begin a slow 
rocking motion over her that built quickly into a lewd crescendo of wild 
fucking... 

Without even knowing it, she began rocking her hips back and forth almost 
imperceptibly in time to the gardener's skewering motions between her 
breasts. Beneath the twisting weight of his hips, she could feel his 
sperm-filled balls slapping harshly against the flat plain of her stomach. 
He fucked into the long hollow between the lush moonlike mounds faster, 
faster, faster; sweat poured down his arms and into his tightly clasping 
palms, moistening the deep valley between her breasts . . . and all at once 
he felt his pent-up sperm rushing from his aching balls and down the length 
of his frantically ejaculating cock. 

The gardener's crazily jerking penis shot its white hot cum-streams in 
violent spurts up her full heaving mounds like a geyser exploding between 
two soft hillocks. The wild gusts of seething sperm splashed obscenely on 
Becky's chin, and rivuleted in oozing white pools on her neck and Adam's 
apple, flowing over her shoulders and down her back. 

The young blonde fell back against the mattress in exhaustion as the 
gardener's satiated body pulled away from her. She watched as he stumbled up 
from the bed and turned to Olaf. 

"She's all yours." 

"Shit," Olaf said. "I thought I'd seen everything, but I never seen someone 
get it between the tits like that." 

"Each to his own," the gardener said. 

"Now, let me show you what it's like to really give it to her," the Swede 
began grappling out of his clothes. 

Becky Thompson gazed with drug-glazed eyes at the huge form of Olaf 
Jorgensen. So far she'd managed to contain the forbidden ecstasy that 
rippled like lightning up between her defenselessly exposed thighs, but she 
didn't know how much longer she could hold herself back. The drug was 
gradually breaking down her resistance - gradually making her aware that she 
wanted to respond to every depraved thing they did to her helpless body. 

"This time we're gonna take her from behind," big Olaf smiled with a lewd 
twinkle in his eye. 

"You mean ... fuck her up the ass?" the gardener had pulled on his pants and 
sat down at the foot of the bed to watch. 

"You bet," said the Swede. 

Olaf's words drummed through Becky's mind like the echoing voice of doom. He 
couldn't mean it! It couldn't be true! "You . . . wh-what are you going to 
do?" 

"Just relax and enjoy it," the hotel clerk said, sitting on the edge of the 
bed and pulling out of his pants which he then dropped on the floor. 

He sat beside her, holding his desire-hardened cock in one hand while he 
caressed her soft white thighs with the other. Becky shifted her weight on 
the mattress, but his fingers dug painfully into the resilient thigh-flesh, 
and she stopped. 

"Now, up on your knees, baby," he said. 

She looked across at Olafs heavily swollen penis clasped in his hand and 
almost swooned ... it was huge! He would split her in two! Hans had 
humiliated her, had shamelessly fucked her up between her breasts, but the 
hotel clerk meant to sink this thing into her rectum... The young blonde's 
random thoughts dwelled for a moment on the way Schneider had raped her 
earlier that evening. God ... she'd suffered so much degradation already, 
but she knew she had an equally torturous distance to go before the night 
ended. 

"I guess I'll have to help, you," the Swede said, and began to twist her 
trembling body over onto her stomach. She went limp, and he forced her up on 
her knees, placing his hands under her hips to lift her firmly rounded 
buttocks high in the air. 

"Man, what an ass," he looked down at the twin white mounds beckoning to him 
in the soft torch light. The bed creaked and groaned as he sank down onto it 
with all his weight. The captive bride moaned as she felt him draw his 
thickly muscled body behind her, the hair on his legs brushing against the 
quivering backs of her thighs as he knelt and fondled her trembling 
ass-cheeks in his hands. 

Olaf reached down between her knees to draw her legs even farther apart. 
Then he slid his palms up again to her upraised buttocks, kneading the young 
flesh harshly and spreading the heels of his hands outward to stretch her 
rounded ass-cheeks wider until it felt as though something would snap. 
"Aaaaarrrgg," she groaned, undulating her uplifted buttocks in an attempt to 
ease out of the painful position. 

Becky felt something wet dart into the straining exposed crevice-flesh 
between her legs ... moving wetly up toward her back and then down again 
over the tiny puckered ring of her anus toward her vagina. It slithered 
moistly upward again, sending an electrifying shock through her spine, 
finally seating itself at the tiny elastic opening of her defenseless 
rectum. 

It was his tongue! 

Becky jerked, attempting to fling herself from the bed, but his fingers dug 
deeper and deeper into her cringing flesh, preventing her from moving out of 
his grasp. "Oh God, God," she moaned as his gripping thumbs sank just 
outside the tight rubbery anal hole and gently pulled the opening apart. She 
felt Olaf's tongue sink in, probing deeper and deeper. The invading wetness 
pulled out and teasingly circled around the tight nether ring, lubricating 
it for his next entry. 

Cool cellar air rushed down her anal crevice when he finally pulled his 
mouth away. Becky relaxed for a minute until she felt the tip of his 
extended middle finger probing painfully at the tight rectal passage. 
"Ooooohhh," she sighed, clenching her tiny puckered anus as closely together 
as she could to escape the deeper penetration she feared was coming. 
"Uuuuuugh," she groaned again, as the Swede tightened his grip on her hip 
with his free hand and sunk his outstretched finger up to the first knuckle. 

"What a goddamn tight little asshole," he exclaimed. 

"You sure you ain't hurting her?" the gardener said from the foot of the 
bed. 

"I'm not gonna hurt her," Olafs eyes drifted smokily across the young 
bride's body. "I'm just; gonna fuck her." 

"She sure looks tight," the gardener observed. 

Becky relaxed slightly; the pain was not quite so bad as she'd expected ... 
not as bad as it could have been if she hadn't been drugged beforehand.... 
and a wave of masochistic pleasure swept devilishly through her loins at the 
sadistic way he was using her. 

His middle finger slipped out of her anus with a lewd sucking sound, and her 
whole body shook as she felt another blunt pressure at the tiny puckered 
rectal ring. 

"Just let it ease in slowly, honey, don't get tight and scared," said the 
Swede, "or it'll hurt." 

"You, y-you can't do that ... no, NO YOU CAN'T!" she cried as she suddenly 
realized his long hard cock had replaced his finger and was probing at her 
defenseless rectum. 

The young bride's protests only served to excite the hotel clerk further. He 
took one look at the girl's trembling ass-cheeks and pushed his eagerly 
pulsing cock's head tighter against her little anus which was puckering 
tightly together in fear. 

He thrust forward with all his strength. 

"NOOOOOOO!" Becky groaned. 

"Man . . . she's tight!" 

She began undulating her upraised buttocks, trying desperately to escape his 
licentious male probe, but she couldn't. He was hurting her, the pain was 
unbelievable! It felt like her small virginal rectum was splitting before 
the thick staff of hard flesh cramming up her from behind. "Aaaaaggghhh! 
You're killing me!" she screamed, but her protest was futile as Olaf 
continued to hammer his long thick cock inch by painful inch up into her 
cruelly violated anus. 

Finally the hotel clerk, leaning over her back, reached around her waist and 
down between her wildly trembling legs to fondle her moistening pussy lips 
and clitoris. She tried to squirm away from his hand, but this only 
succeeded in impaling his ramrod cock another inch deeper up her rectum. 
Becky knew her body had reached a point of responding to him ... she could 
feel all her dreads and delights mingling into one burning point of sexual 
excitement that was all too visible to the burly man straddling her 
straining buttocks from behind. Becky was aware of the salacious spectacle 
they must be making to Hans who was watching at the foot of the bed ... but 
somehow that didn't seem as terrifying as the thought that the moment was 
fast approaching when she would no longer care what they did to her body. 

Olaf watched wild-eyed and perspiring as young Becky Thompson writhed and 
squirmed beneath the insistent pressure of his fingers circling obscenely 
around her erect clitoris. He let his thickly distended penis rest just 
inside her rubbery anal hole, giving her time to accustom herself to its 
alien presence. "Yes, it'll feel real good. Yesssss, Becky, I'm gonna hurt 
you," he was saying with disarming tenderness. 

She moved once again and the clasping walls of her rubbery rectum squeezed 
glove-like around his invading thickness, sending a whirlpool of delight 
rippling through his invading cock-shaft. He thrust in slightly, and heard 
her grunt, then sigh ... the change from humiliating pain to pleasure was 
clear to him now, though she was obviously trying to suppress it. 

"Ooooohhh," an obscene feeling surged through the kneeling wife as she felt 
the warmly pulsing penis buried far up in her rectum, bringing her strange 
masochistic pleasure, the likes of which she had never experienced before. 

"Damn . . . Jesus!" the Swede groaned. 

Oh yessss . . . God it feels good, her mind spun, that's what I needed ... 
oh yes, oh yes! Oh God, I've got it! 

But Jorgensen wasn't used to the wild pleasure of sodomizing a woman, and 
within seconds the excitement had caused his hot load of sperm to begin 
aching for freedom. With a loud groan, he knew he couldn't hold back much 
longer. Again and again he rammed his madly throbbing cock deep up inside 
her hot little rectum, excited sweat pouring off his chest onto her 
passionately shuddering back in small streams. 

"Oh damn!" he cursed himself. 

Becky began to feel her own overpowering need slowly taking over her mind 
and body. She wanted him ... had to have him bring her to orgasm before he 
climaxed. Her face was twisted now with the delirium of desire, and she 
began lunging her back into his heavy stomach, sending the pile-driving tip 
of his thick penis deeper and deeper up into her hotly clasping rectum. 

"Gooooooooood, Goooooooood God!" she moaned, "fuck me ... Olaf, fuck 
meeeeee, fuck my asshole! Oh ... oh ... oh!" 

Her lewd entreaties were simply too much for him and Olaf knew he could hold 
back the flood no longer. With one final agonizing jolt forward, his balls 
flexed and then exploded in a rapid-fire blast of hot spurting semen that 
flooded her rectum and overflowed from around his deeply embedded 
cock-shaft. He lunged so hard that she groaned under him as he strained to 
keep every inch of his wildly ejaculating penis deep up inside her warm 
buttery rectum. 

"No! Pleeeassee! Don't stop now ... keep fucking . . . I'm almost there," 
Becky pleaded, but the hotel clerk's penis was already growing soft and 
slipping uselessly from her tightly clasping rectum. She reached behind and 
grabbed the deflating shaft with both hands, trying to hold it in, but it 
was useless! "Please!" she began weeping. "You can't leave me like this!" 

Her head whirled dizzily around and around, and finally her face fell to the 
mattress. She sensed Hans gaping in wonderment at her as she kneeled nakedly 
on the bed, her rounded ass-cheeks still lifted shamelessly in the air, sob 
after sob shaking her aroused young body as thin streams of sperm ran down 
the backs of her thighs. 

"Shit ... she was really something," Olaf stood up from the bed, a dazed, 
stupored look glazing his eyes. 

"Let me finish it off for you," the gardener pulled off his pants once more 
and began stroking his already hardened penis back and forth in his hands. 

The young bride looked back at the lean older man as he moved up behind 
her... She just had to have it now ... all sense of what was right and wrong 
had slipped like water through a sieve from her mind. The aphrodisiac had 
transformed her entire body into a mass of shamelessly begging female flesh 
which could only be satisfied by one thing: A long hard cock. 

"Oooooh, yessssss, Hans ... fuck my asshole. Please make me cum ... I'll go 
out of my mind if I can't cum," she felt him forcing her fleshy ass-cheeks 
apart. 

"Don't worry lady ... Goddamn ... you're hot," he pressed his sinewy thighs 
up against her own. 

Something hard and pulsating rubbed against her clenching little anus. The 
gardener's face was contorted beyond all recognition. Sweat dripped from his 
chest and rivuleted down onto her upraised buttocks, forming a tiny pool 
that trickled down her parted anal crevice. She felt his rubbery cock-head 
press obscenely against the snug little opening to her rectum. 

"Move it around," the German gardener commanded. "Wiggle that ass up and 
down." 

Becky turned back around as Hans positioned himself more securely behind her 
buttocks. She did as he'd commanded, lifting her ass-cheeks slightly, then 
lowering them, her back bent and her face pressed into the sweat-soaked 
animal skins that covered the bed. She opened her mouth as if to speak 
again, but was caught short as the German's excitedly throbbing penis 
suddenly sank its full length up into her cum-drenched rectal channel. 

But this time it didn't hurt ... "Ooooooh, eeeeeyeeeesss," she crooned. Hans 
arched his hips back as far as he could, and then rammed his long thick cock 
right up to the hilt with another body-jolting thrust. She could feel the 
warmly pulsing under-ridge of his cock burrowing up her passion-inflamed 
rectum, burying its fleshy hardness deep into the hidden recesses of her 
stomach. 

He held his throbbing penis there for a moment, savoring the wild 
sex-tremors that raced deliriously through the voluptuous body beneath him. 
Then he began to fuck up into her anus with a deliberately slow rhythm that 
whipped the ever-growing flames of insatiable desire into a raging inferno. 
"Shit... ahhhhhh, damnit," the gardener groaned. Every plunging thrust 
rippled like steel through her rapturously clinging rectal walls, bringing 
her closer and closer to a higher peak of ecstatic pleasure than she had 
never experienced before. 

Suddenly, she reached behind them both, her sharp nails biting like barbed 
hooks into his ass-cheeks, holding him pressed firmly against her wantonly 
undulating buttocks. With each downward thrust of his hips, she pulled with 
all her strength, driving his long sodomizing shaft as far as it would go up 
into her no longer virginal rectum. 

"Oh... God... God! Nothing has ever felt ... so wonderful," she moaned, 
flailing her head to and fro like a madwoman. 

Becky knew she was approaching her climax. She could tell by the 
all-pervasive rippling sensations intensifying within her desire-tautened 
little belly. 

She heard Hans groan behind her, could feel his thighs clapping vigorously 
against her gyrating ass-cheeks. "My God . . . Fuck me Hans! Fuuuuuucccck 
MEEEEEEE!" 

The gardener stepped up his pile-driving rhythm, plunging up into her anus 
as though he were mining the earth, fucking as hard as he could up into her 
milking anal channel. He burrowed faster and faster through the warm velvety 
walls of her rectum, feeling the pent-up sperm in his balls exploding 
forward in an inexorable surge that threatened to tear both of them into 
tiny pieces. 

"Aaaaggh!" Becky lifted the gardener's weight on her back and raised her 
head to groan. "Oh God, I'm cumming . . . I'm CUMMMMING!" 

Hans' arms reached under her tapering waist and held her buttocks completely 
off the mattress as he fucked up into her tight spasming rectal passage with 
every ounce of energy he could summon, rocking his loins back and forth with 
a savage motion as he buried his wildly ejaculating penis all the way to the 
hilt in her convulsing rectum. 

The two sweat-soaked bodies began squirming all over the bed, their arms 
flailing from side to side as wild grunts and groans sputtered like electric 
static from their parched lips. "Ooooohhh," she sighed, pumping her smoothly 
rounded buttocks in one last effort to get every ounce of sperm from his 
crazily spewing penis. 

One more deeply plunging lunge ... then another ... and finally his seething 
eruption splattered-deep up inside her belly, flooding her clenching anus 
with its powerfully jetting spurts of sperm. Through a mindless daze of 
pleasure, Becky could feel the endless gush of cum that filled her insides 
to bursting, mingling with Olaf's semen already pumped there a few minutes 
before ... and she felt herself falling ... falling ... into a warm oblivion 
of contentment. 

Chapter Eight 

Sometime later that evening Olaf and Hans were sitting on the porch of the 
caretaker's shack behind the large Mallorcan villa. Both the gardener and 
the hotel clerk were fairly drunk on the rum they'd consumed after leaving 
Becky. Olaf had tethered the young blonde to the bed in the wine cellar, as 
Schneider had instructed, but he was still anxious about his boss 
discovering what they'd done to the captive young bride. 

"It was your idea," Hans said as he sipped his drink. 

"But you were an accomplice . . . there's no getting away from that," said 
the Swede. 

Hans looked at his pocket watch and said, "It's a quarter to eleven. Things 
should start rolling in a half-hour." 

"I'm fed up with Schneider," Olaf said. 

"I've been working for him twenty years," Hans replied. 

"You get the short end of the stick every time." 

"He's been good to me," Hans admitted. "After the war, he took me in, gave 
me a job. If it wasn't for Schneider I'd have been dead and buried 
twenty-five years ago." 

"You ain't got much to be thankful for," the Swede said. 

The gardener looked up past the house at the yellow moon rising above the 
Mallorcan Mountains. "I've got my life." 

"Some goddamn life," Olaf said. "You're not living; you're just bungling it 
on. If I were you, I'd kiss Fritz Schneider good-bye." 

"What about yourself?" Hans took another draw on the glass of straight rum. 

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Sooner or later, Interpol is 
gonna get wind of his operation. And you know where that'll leave us." 

"I feel bad about the girl," Hans said. 

"You and me both." 

"She threw a good fuck," Hans said. "But all the time I was giving it to her 
I was thinking what a rotten guy I was." 

Olaf laughed. "You weren't thinking of anything except how nice that ass of 
hers felt. Don't tell me you were feeling guilty." 

"I sure feel bad about it now," the gardener said. 

"She's not through yet. She's gonna get it again ..." 

"She'll tell him ... the girl will tell Fritz what we've done," Hans said. 
"There's no telling what he'll do to us." 

"That's why I was thinking about getting the hell out of here," Olaf said. 

"I also feel bad about the girl's husband," Hans finished the rum in his 
glass and poured himself another. "It's enough to make you sick." 

The Swede stood up from his chair. "What's done is done. You have to look 
out for yourself." 

"Maybe you're right," Hans said. "But still I feel we should do something. 
It's not right letting Fritz do this sort of thing all the time." 

"Where does he keep the money?" The Swede walked to one end of the porch, 
then circled back to the gardener's chair. "I know he doesn't put it in a 
bank. A guy like that can't afford to put his money in a bank." 

"I can't tell. It wouldn't be right." 

"Good old Hans," Olaf said mockingly, "Loyal to the end." 

"You're asking for trouble," the gardener said, "You're just asking for a 
bullet in your gut." 

'Think of what you could do with all that dough, Hans. You could go to South 
America . . . Canada . . . Australia . . . you could get away from this 
goddamn island," Olaf said. 

Beyond the villa, lights from a car entering the driveway shone across the 
wide lawn, sending long slanting shadows down to the caretaker's house. 

"That must be them. They're late," Hans said. 

A moment later, another pair of headlights circled the fringe of shrubbery. 
A door slammed, and then there were voices. 

"It's gonna be one helluva party," Olaf finished his drink and set it down 
on the floor beside the chair Hans was sitting in. 

The gardener rose and half-staggered to the steps leading from the porch. 
Olaf glanced at the lean older man, satisfied that he was drunk. 

"Now you show me where that money is, Hans. We haven't got much time left . 
. . if we do it right, nobody will know the difference till we're in Palma. 
If we wait around here, you and I won't live to see the morning. What's it 
going to be, Hans? Life or death?" 

"Palma," Hans shook his head. 

"Then after that, who knows where," Olaf helped the inebriated gardener down 
the porch steps. 

"It's been about three years since I was in Palma," the gardener said. 

"Well, look Hans. I've got a plan. I've been thinking about this for a long 
time and tonight's the night for me. I'm tired of being the bottom man in 
this organization. I'm tired of doing the dirty work while Schneider gets 
the profits. Stealing the money isn't enough. Fritz will hunt us down like 
dogs." He reached inside his coat and pulled out a revolver. "Let's finish 
the job. It's the only way." 

"You can't be serious, Olaf! You mean shoot Fritz? How? He never lets his 
guard down!" 

"You wait and see. I'll handle everything. I have a feeling that our boss 
will be in a perfect position tonight. Are you with me?" 

"Well ... I ..." 

"You won't be alive tomorrow if you don't follow me now, Hans! Use your 
head, man!" 

"Okay, Olaf. You win. I hope you're right, because I'm just not ready to die 
tonight." 

Chapter Nine 

Becky Thompson trembled in the center of the huge bed, her arms straining at 
the thick ropes that held her hands tightly to the headboard. The 
voluptuousness of her body was stretched below her; her firm full thighs 
were drawn apart by heavy cuffs that bound her ankles to the sides of the 
fur-covered mattress. 

There was no way to cover her nakedness . . . Olaf and Hans had bound her 
this way before leaving her, and the young blonde's shame and humiliation 
now seemed complete. Nothing could change what had already been done to her 
. . . she'd been fucked in every imaginable way, yet she still felt an 
insatiable urge deep up inside her belly for more. 

She was only half-conscious now of Schneider and Christina talking in the 
darkened portion of the cave-like room. She heard a dog's bark, and other 
voices coming from outside. Slowly, she opened her eyes . . . 

"There's nothing we can do about it now, I suppose," she heard the German's 
voice. "I will deal with them in my own way later." 

"You should have known better than to leave the Swede alone with her," 
Christina replied. 

"It was not only the Swede," Schneider said. "Hans had something to do with 
it." 

"Your faithful servant," the young Italian girl laughed. "I saw the gardener 
and Olaf earlier . . . they were stumbling about on the lawn." 

"I'll have to do something drastic with both of them," the German sighed, 
"but not now . . . I'm too preoccupied with other things." 

Becky heard rising laughter coming from outside the door to the cellar. She 
looked across the room at Christina and Fritz who were silhouetted by the 
large orgiastic painting that covered the opposite wall. 

"Hello, Becky," Schneider smiled and approached the bed 

"Leave me alone," she groaned, jerking her legs at the cuffs that bound her 
ankles. 

"Don't fight it, dear. There's no use in doing that," he said. 

A threatening growl from the dog penetrated through her drug-dazed mind. 
Suddenly, Eric came up alongside his master. Schneider patted him gingerly 
on the back of the head. "Christina... let them in. Let our honored guests 
see this delectable young thing!" he turned to the brunette. 

Christina unbolted the door in a welcoming gesture, and the room rapidly 
filled up with people, much to Becky's surprise. Most of them were 
respectably dressed men and women. She watched Schneider dismiss his body 
guards, probably to make the crowd feel more at ease. That was just as well 
with her, as they were an ugly leering group of men. 

It took only a moment or so for the guests to decorously seat themselves in 
chairs that had been set up earlier in a wide semi-circle around the bed. A 
bar at the far corner of the room was serviced by two white-coated waiters 
who brought tall drinks on silver trays to the respective onlookers. 

Becky flinched at the lewd comments that she couldn't help hearing directed 
at her shamelessly exposed young body. 

Then, suddenly, the assembled crowd fell into silence. She winced, and 
closed her eyes as Jack was led bound and gagged into the cavernous chamber 
and was seated directly in front of the bed. 

"We have quite an evening in store for us," Schneider addressed the crowd. 
"This is Mrs. Becky Thompson ... and this happy young fellow here is her 
husband, Mr. Jack Thompson, son of the eminent American congressman." 

A titter of almost polite laughter broke the silence. Someone said, "Come 
on, Fritz. Let's get on with it!" 

"First, I'd like to do a little explaining to Mr. and Mrs. Thompson," he 
approached Becky's husband who was straining against his bonds 
ineffectually. "Look at these folks, Mr. Thompson. None of them appear at 
all disreputable, do they? They're quite normal looking," he smiled at the 
twenty-odd people seated around the young man. "The thing of it is all of 
them are in the drug business . . . each one of these gentlemen has a vested 
interest in your expediting our heroin shipment back to the States." 

"Get on with it, Schneider!" a dark-haired man complained. 

Fritz raised a cautioning hand. "We will photograph your wife in several 
interesting . . . poses . . . with the crowd watching on . . . obviously, 
you wouldn't want such pictures getting back to your father's congressional 
constituents, would you Mr. Thompson?" 

Jack rocked back and forth in his chair. 

"All right," Schneider turned to the crowd. "You wanted a good show ... and 
now you shall have it." 

Jack cringed at Schneider's words and tried to blot out the image of his 
wife brazenly stretched out on the mattress before him. She wasn't 
struggling . . . she seemed to be oblivious to the crowd surrounding the 
bed. What had happened to her? Why wasn't she fighting it? Why didn't she 
scream? He wanted to break out of his bonds and rescue her immediately, but 
even if he could have done so, something held his eyes magnetically to her 
naked young form . . . something beyond his own imaginings was about to 
happen, and in a dark secret part of himself he wanted to know what it was . 
. . 

"ERIC!" Schneider suddenly roared, snapping his fingers in command as the 
fierce looking German shepherd guarding the entryway darted to his master's 
side. 

Fritz leaned down and caressed the animal's neck. Out of the corner of his 
eye he saw Becky's husband begin flailing against his bonds, but the two 
guards standing beside the young man easily managed to restrain him. 

"I had planned on a little warm up exercise for Mrs. Thompson," Schneider 
chuckled and rubbed his palms together, "But from the looks of things she 
doesn't seem to need it." 

Without further ado, the heavy-set German slapped the dog on his back, 
signaling Eric to jump onto the bed. 

Becky's eyes widened with terror and she tried to keep from screaming. The 
beautifully marked German shepherd stood at the young girl's side, his 
ponderous weight making the mattress buckle beneath his feet. 

Fritz directed two men to untie her hands and feet. After she was free, the 
German encouraged the massively built dog, "Go on, Eric. Scent her ... see 
how lovely a young American bitch can smell." 

The dog's eyes drank in the whole, deliciously proportioned naked human 
female in one glance, from the round curving arcs of her hips, to her 
pink-nippled breasts that swayed slightly as she tried to cover them with 
her hands. 

"Aaaaah!" Jack's voice broke through the gag across his mouth. 

"Quiet!" Schneider spat at the protesting husband. 

Thompson lapsed into an enforced silence, sinking back in the chair that was 
held by the two swarthy guards. He tried to look away as the dog moved 
jauntily up between Becky's long slender legs . . . but he couldn't pull his 
eyes from what was going to happen next. 

The pretty young blonde tried to roll onto her stomach and crawl away from 
the animal, but a red-haired young man with an ugly scar across his chin 
thrust her into a supine position so that her rippling white belly and 
involuntarily widespread thighs faced the ferocious-looking animal. 

"Pleeeeease!" she groaned, her eyes gaping piteously at Schneider who stood 
at the base of the bed beside her husband. "Ooooh, God . . . not this," she 
moaned as the dog slinked up between her legs. She tried to kick them shut, 
but Eric's savage growl sent her into a paroxysm of fear. 

The dog edged back for a moment, cocked his head, and then leapt 
effortlessly to her side, as though he were trying to decide the best 
position to approach her from. Becky's breath caught uncontrollably in her 
throat as he stared down at her. She thought of leaping from the bed to 
escape, but looking up at the crowd with Schneider standing beside her 
husband, she knew it would be useless. 

Eric lowered his head to lick with his hot wet tongue at the white smooth 
flesh of her nervously quivering belly. 

"That's a good dog," Schneider urged on the animal. 

Becky drew up away from him, but a fierce growl from the dog forced her 
helplessly onto her back again. Once more she felt his curling, fiery tongue 
and she raised her head to watch him licking upward over the rounded basin 
of her tight little belly. Higher and higher he came, until at last . . . 
God help me! she thought ... he was licking the sensitive underside of her 
breasts, creeping slowly upward over them to their bursting nipples! 

"Stop . . . STOP HIM!" she screamed, pleading with her eyes at Fritz. 

The crowd laughed. "Go on ... let him lick you!" someone said. 

The German smiled and turned to the crowd to observe their approval. On the 
opposite side of the room, Christina, his young Italian mistress, was 
loading the Polaroid camera with film. In front of him, the young blonde's 
husband rested back mutely in his chair, his eyes two flaming coals of 
astonishment. Fritz glanced at his cronies from Palma - most of them 
higher-ups in the drug syndicate who'd come to Mallorca during the summer to 
confer with him on business matters. The former Nazi knew none of them had 
expected to be entertained like this . . . not even he had imagined the 
evening would turn out as well as it was going. 

He looked back at the bed, where the dog was now licking the helplessly 
naked young bride's breasts. 

"Ooooooh," she moaned in humiliation to Eric's fervid tonguing caresses 
wetly grazing her pink erogenous nipples again and again. 

As he licked his moistening tongue across the firm young mounds, a shiver of 
unwanted pleasurable sensations banked through Becky's tensed belly. The 
drug which Olaf had given her hadn't worn off. Her feverish mind tried to 
blot out the mounting ecstasy that rippled like waves bathing a soft sandy 
beach over her entire body, but the licentious pulsations in her sensually 
heaving breasts went on burning through her hardening nipples and into her 
belly. 

She heard the dog growl like a Yukon husky, then saw his brown eyes raised 
to meet hers, their lusting glow level with her own. 

"Goooood Looorrrrd," she moaned, and turned her head to the side as Eric's 
long tongue flicked against her full, parted lips. 

She clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, but the wisps of canine tonguing 
continued. She thought she'd be repulsed by it and steeled herself for the 
worst ... but the tongue was gentle, soft and warm, and she felt a strange 
new receptiveness well through her straining little belly. The tongue lathed 
wetly and softly on, licking with loving strokes at the moistness of her 
lips until... he stopped, and she hoped he was done with it. 

There was a moment of silence. Becky heard herself breathing, then heard a 
woman gasp . . . it wasn't herself ... nor was it Christina. One of the 
wives of the businessmen had suddenly fainted dead-away at being a witness 
to the salacious spectacle . . . she was a young red-haired woman, dressed 
in a fashionably low-cut evening dress. Soon she was revived, and her 
awakening groans mingled with Becky's, as the blonde girl moaned, seeing the 
handsome German shepherd positioning himself between her slightly spread 
legs. 

Becky attempted to close her thighs tight together, but Eric flashed his 
teeth and growled down at her. She could see the sharp canine incisors 
gleaming and the wetness of his tongue drawing rapidly in and out as he 
studied his female prey. 

A sudden flash of light blinded the young bride . . . she didn't know where 
it had come from, until she looked up and saw Christina standing beside the 
bed, the Polaroid camera held up beside her devilishly smiling face. 

"BECKY!" Schneider commanded, "Open your legs ... open them wide so Eric can 
get in there." 

"Nooooo . . . God, please, tell him to get away. I-I've had enough. "You've 
tortured me enough already!" she moaned, tightening the muscles in her 
thighs as the dog dipped onto his forelegs and then sprang up again. 

"RRRRRrraawl," the animal half-barked, then whimpered. 

Becky's breathing quickened and her brain spun wildly. What could she do? 
There was no chance that Jack could help her ... and from the way he'd acted 
before Schneider had taken him prisoner after he'd seen her making love to 
the German, she wasn't sure if he'd have wanted to save her anyway. She had 
learned from her earlier experience with Olaf that protesting was useless 
... it aggravated things and ultimately made them worse. 

Lifting her head, the nakedly trembling young wife watched the animal 
waiting with serene patience, and felt a responsive shudder sizzle ominously 
through her widespread young thighs. And then ... an inexorable force from 
within herself welled through her lower body as though from instinct. She 
spread her long tapering legs slowly apart, hearing the crowd give a 
collective sigh . . . until her thighs were opened wide enough for the huge 
German shepherd to insert his massive body between them. 

She saw Eric drop down to his furry haunches again and poise his powerfully 
muscled animal form above the obscenely exposed intimacies between her full, 
passion-flushed thighs! 

"Oh no ... God no!" she deliriously reprimanded herself. 

Slowly, the dog lowered his sleek head between her out-stretched thighs. 
Then his wet nose brushed against the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. 
She could feel his hot breath taunting the sparse blonde pubic curls, 
lathing them with a lewd primitive warmth . . . and then felt his nose prod 
up between her pinkly glistening pussy crevice! "Oooooh," she moaned, 
harmonizing with Eric's whimper as he sniffed . . . she waited in frantic 
submission, her legs opening wider still, though she willed them to close 
... to shut before - "God help meeeeeee!" 

Becky couldn't hold back the sudden expressive gasp when she felt his damp 
nose move lower between her thighs and brush wetly down against the tiny 
puckered ring of her anus. Light flashed kaleidoscopically in her brain from 
the camera held by Christina ... but the helpless blonde saw nothing but the 
erogenous colors of her drug-instilled lust exploding in pink wispy puffs 
inside her own clouded brain. 

The dog licked again at her cringing anal opening. "Ooooh," she blurted the 
moment his irresistible tongue splurted between her widely spread buttocks 
to lick up and down the smooth fleshed split surrounding her snug rectum, 
the tip suddenly burrowing in to tease her with its warmth. 

How long that blissful titillation went on down between her thighs, Becky 
had no way of measuring. Around her, the onlookers were becoming 
increasingly aroused by the lewd show she and the dog were putting on. One 
platinum blonde woman, who'd come in after the evening's activities had got 
under way, had impulsively begun taking off her clothes and was now sitting 
back on a couch behind the bed with two men sitting on either side of her 
naked body. The two men had unzipped their flies and the new guest was 
massaging both of their massively erect penises in each hand. 

Meanwhile, Christina was snapping photos from every conceivable position, 
but Becky's mind was numbed to everything but the searing moistness of 
Eric's tongue as it neared the pinkly exposed split of her vagina. The 
German shepherd traced his tongue along the thin hair-lined edges of her 
cuntal lips to the tiny trembling bud that revealed itself achingly to him. 
He licked again, this time slicing through the softly yielding vaginal flesh 
like a hot knife through butter. 

His blissfully caressing tongue splayed wide her submissive genitals in 
rapid strokes, swiping up and down the exposed pink pussy lips with 
increasing pressure. At last he lunged his tongue in an invading curl far up 
into the responding heat of her deliriously craving cuntal mouth. 

"EEEeeeoww," she half-shrieked, and then cried in ecstasy beneath his oral 
loving, her deep blue eyes lustfully feeding on the spectacle she and the 
dog were making to the crowd of people in the room. 

"That's it, Eric, lick her pussy!" Becky heard a woman's voice beside her, 
but she didn't look up to see Christina with the camera leveled directly at 
the dogs sleek-nosed head between her feminine thighs. 

Again and again, Eric's scorching tongue eagerly grazed her quivering loins, 
from the tight-puckered opening of her anus to her upraised pussy. At its 
peak it hesitated, penetrating the hot liquid flesh to flick skillfully at 
her palpitating clitoral bud, fanning the growing flames of arousal inside 
her like a hot bellows. The indecent spell worked on her by the dog had 
brought her to the point of squirming surrender, and she moaned gutturally 
as each lust-teasing curl sent her young body into further spasms of erotic 
delight. 

Frantically, she brought her knees all the way back to touch her tingling 
breasts and to give the German shepherd greater access to her widespread 
cunt. "Ooohhh, God . . . lick it," she heard her own whines blending with 
his, while 'he continued devotedly lashing his tongue across the fluid 
pussy-flesh between her upraised thighs and buttocks. 

Jack Thompson thrashed in his chair as he heard his wife's cries urging the 
animal on. He couldn't believe it ... it couldn't be true! Yet he was 
watching this obscenely bestial performance with his own eyes. At first he'd 
felt sorry for his shamelessly naked wife, but now he didn't know . . . why 
or how . . . she could respond like that. The shocked young husband shifted 
in the chair as much as he could, then felt a cautioning hand grab his 
shoulder, and rested back, knowing there was nothing he could do to make her 
stop enjoying the dog's lewdly caressive tongue. 

Just as Becky thought she would cum by being tongue-fucked by the handsome 
German shepherd, she felt him abruptly end his inciting animal kisses. For a 
moment she lay back stunned, unable to move, incapable of saying anything. 
What had happened? Where had it gone? She raised up on her elbows with a 
start, slowly lowering her upthrust legs. She saw the unbelieving eyes of 
her husband staring across at her ... he was no longer struggling to loose 
himself from his bonds ... he too was gripped by an insane curiosity to see 
what would happen next. 

In front of her the dog pawed the bed, wagging his long bushy tail. Her eyes 
flicked across the dappled gray and black tracings on his fur-gleamed body, 
the delightfully varied markings of a pure-bred stud. Then ... she saw it! 
The desperately inflamed girl saw his scarlet glistening animal-cock! 

Breathlessly, she gaped at the dripping taper slowly emerging from its furry 
sheath. It dangled and swayed as it slipped from its protective sleeve in an 
expanding length of reddening hardness. God! It was bigger than Olaf's huge 
male organ . . . much larger than any cock she'd ever seen before! 

"Christina," Schneider addressed his young Italian mistress. "Put a pillow 
under her ass ... I think that's what she needs now!" 

The brunette grabbed a pillow from the top of the bed and placed it snugly 
beneath Becky's wantonly uplifted buttocks. Now her ass-cheeks were raised 
high in the air and she was resting back on her shoulders. Her hair spilled 
in a wild tangle of blonde tresses down onto the mattress as she tossed her 
head desperately in anticipation of the bestial ravishment to come. She made 
no effort to think rationally, but cast all logic aside, refusing to hear 
the renewed chokes and gagged gasps coming from her struggling husband. 

Becky raised her legs, drawing them all the way back once more until her 
knees touched her excitedly swollen breasts. Her obscenely upraised cunt was 
welling with molten fire that she knew could only be quenched by one thing! 
This dog's thick scarlet dog-cock! 

The crowd gave another collective groan as it saw Eric move forward, easily 
mounting her widespread legs. The excited tip of his canine hardness brushed 
against her heated vaginal opening, raising tiny whimpers from both the dog 
and the young woman. 

"Oooooooohh," Becky murmured, feeling the taut-muscled belly-weight of the 
dog press powerfully against her tightening stomach. 

Then she was reaching down beneath him until her gentle fingers grasped his 
pulsating cock. She shuddered at the feel of his animal-penis and the 
awareness that it was something alien to her, something that only the most 
depraved women throughout the ages had experienced at the cost of everything 
that was sacred to them: A dog was about to fuck into her aching pussy! 

On the couch beyond the bed, the woman with the platinum blonde hair had 
begun sucking at one of the men's eagerly hardened cocks. Both men had 
removed their pants and their twin flesh-poles glistened in the flickering 
candlelight. The woman knelt on the couch with the fully erect penis of one 
older man in her mouth, while a younger, but baldish looking man, had 
positioned himself behind her lewdly upraised buttocks and began fucking 
into her proffered cunt. But the crowd was so totally incensed at the 
depraved scene on the bed, that it paid the obscenely entwined trio on the 
sofa little attention. All eyes were focused on Eric's cock pulsing between 
Becky's tightly gripping fingers. She pressed its blood-swollen tip into the 
warmly throbbing entrance to her cunt, and the second that her clutching 
pussy flesh nibbled at his penis ... in that very instant, he did nothing 
less that what nature demanded of him! 

The powerful German shepherd sunk his long heated thickness to the furry 
hilt into the captive bride's upraised cuntal mouth! 

"Damn . . . look at the dog ... I didn't believe he was going to fuck her," 
a hoarse masculine voice said in amazement. 

Eric squatted on his hind legs to bury his rampaging cock deep up inside her 
hotly screaming belly. His sperm-bloated balls slapped hard up into the wide 
split crevice between her buttocks as he established his rapid-fire pace. 

"Aaaaagh! . . . Uggggg!" Becky gasped out at the first penetration of his 
massively hardened animal-cock. 

Becky at first wanted to linger on those seconds when he made the first 
pumping strokes up into her passion-dilated cunt, but there was no time to 
sink into even a moment's reflection. His searing cock fucked deep up into 
the far recesses of her shamelessly accepting belly, and she gasped and 
cringed beneath him, her mind a seething morass of sensual desire. 

Maddening delights of quickening ecstasy filled her submissive body, and the 
frenetic young woman could do no more than squirm salaciously beneath the 
dog's ever lengthening strokes fucking their way to the very hilt in her 
wide-stretched pussy. She gaped at the glistening cone-shaped hardness 
pistoning up into her welcoming cuntal depths, kicking her legs out and 
wrapping them tightly around the furry muscles of his strong back. 

"Catch that, Christina," Schneider chuckled, "get that beautiful pose!" 

The Polaroid burst, sending little gems of light sparkling across Becky's 
partially closed eyelids. 

"Oh, fuck me, Eric," the impaled young bride screamed out in wanton ecstasy. 

Furiously, the dog's hairy belly and loins battered and thudded downward 
against her taut widespread ass-cheeks, his huge pleasure-bringing cock 
sinking its full hardened length up into the fluid inferno of her wildly 
clasping cuntal passage. The blonde wife rotated her hungrily working hips 
and buttocks up at him, grinding her sucking vaginal walls around the fierce 
unrelenting dog-cock while a blissful cry rushed from her rasping throat. 

The erotic love-cry sizzled through Jack Thompson's mind like the echoing 
voice of doom. He watched his young wife whimpering beneath the beast, not 
believing what he saw, trying to place the depraved act of bestial 
submission into the dream-place of a hallucination. But he couldn't. Total 
shock possessed him; mingling with a revulsion that was so profound he 
thought he would be sick. He heard his wife's throaty moan as she rode up 
the ground-swell of her approaching climax ... he heard the resounding slap 
of the dog's obscenely inflated balls against her upthrusting buttocks, and 
saw his wet thick cock vanishing up into Becky's blonde-fringed vaginal lips 
in a demoniacal fusion of woman and dog, beast-driven woman and woman-driven 
beast. 

Other eyes watched with equal fascination. In the periphery of his vision, 
the young husband could see the naked platinum blonde on the couch sucking 
on one man's lustfully thickened cock while another man fucked into her 
moist pussy from behind. Christina stood behind the couch so she could get a 
shot of the silver-blonde woman being skewered by two men and a picture of 
Becky being fucked by the dog in the same photographic frame. Meanwhile, 
Schneider stood in front of the orgiastically aroused crowd, like an 
operatic impresario conducting an obscene rendition of the Rite of Spring. 

If the men and women in the audience could have applauded they would have 
done so. But they were otherwise indisposed with one or both of their hands, 
either caressing persons of the opposite sex beside them ... or masturbating 
themselves if no one was available . . . 

"Ooooooh, my lover ... fuck me ... fuck me ... you magnificent darling!" 
Becky gasped, pulling the German shepherd's big head down so she could 
smother his panting face with hot moist kisses. Her soft white legs were 
wound tightly over his furry back, as were her arms now around his neck; she 
whined in a low crying voice while she kissed him, at the same time 
thrusting her eagerly clasping cuntal crevice up onto his aching, throbbing 
penis. Her dilating cuntal walls clung greedily to his pounding maleness, 
urging him toward the point of wild primeval release! 

Her glazed blue eyes grew large, unseeing. Wildly, the lust-blinded young 
wife opened her mouth as his long thick tongue thrust up into the hot moist 
shelter, brushing against her own tongue as it went almost to her throat. 
She was being fucked in the mouth by his tongue as well as skewered in her 
cuntal slit by his pulsating cock, filled to overflowing in both clasping 
openings that throbbed and licked her to the precipice of a fiery orgasm. 

She started to moan deliriously, but her voice died in a strangled mixture 
of sob and sigh. Then the first spasms struck her and she shrieked, 
thrusting her wildly convulsing young loins up hard onto his consummating 
dog-cock in a desperate lunge. Eric responded with a harsh forward stab, his 
hugely expanding cock jerking inside her frantically gyrating pussy. She 
felt his back tense and writhe for a moment . . . then little yips came from 
his slavering jaws . . . and he rutted deep, his flat hairy belly wriggling 
spasmodically against her nakedly squirming pelvis. 

Suddenly his scalding, animal-cum geysered deep up into her soft 
constricting belly with long liquid squirts, flooding her womb and caressing 
her pussy-depths almost to the bursting point. 

"Fuck . . . oh, ohhhhh, aaaaaaaahhh, fuck meee!" her voice harmonized with 
Eric's guttural growls that accompanied his cock's erupting release. 

She flailed her head from side to side in erotic bliss, suddenly feeling the 
lewd combination of their human-animal cum obscenely trickling out from her 
tight clasping pussy lips. It rivuleted down the insides of her open thighs 
and she milked her lover's deflating cock of the last cum-droplets. And then 
... he growled ... his tongue drew away from her mouth, and he was onto his 
feet. 

"Ooooohhh," she moaned, and fell onto her side, her passion-depleted body 
finally rid of a hunger that had been with her, it seemed since the 
beginning of time. 

Chapter Ten 

Jack Thompson stood at the window to his office on the twentieth floor of a 
large corporation building above Fifth Avenue in New York and looked down 
over the tops of apartment houses at the blue smog misting the city. 

This was the sixth letter he'd written to Becky, who was now living in Los 
Angeles, and he hoped somehow she would answer it. He turned from the window 
and reached down to his desk for the unsealed envelope, pushing a stack of 
paperwork aside. He had asked Becky for her forgiveness numerous times over 
the past few months, but all he had received from her in return was silence. 
This was understandable, he supposed, considering how he'd treated her that 
horrible night at Fritz Schneider's country estate. She'd gone through 
torments most sane women couldn't endure, while for most of the night he had 
watched in almost uncaring disgust at the brutal violations of her young 
body. 

He recalled the brief scuffle between Olaf Jorgensen and Schneider as the 
guests were leaving the house ... if it hadn't been for the hotel clerk, 
Jack might have obeyed Schneider and smuggled the heroin to the states. But 
now, the former Nazi was dead; Olaf and Christina had fled the estate with 
Hans, the gardener, after the Swedish man had shot Schneider. Jack figured 
there must have been some kind of revenge motive involved, but he'd been too 
concerned with freeing his wife, grabbing the camera and escaping in the 
midst of the confusion, to think about just why Olaf had come up behind 
Schneider just as the German was addressing the crowd for the final time ... 
Still, Thompson couldn't forget the horrified expression on the former 
Nazi's face as he'd turned around and seen Olaf standing with a revolver 
held up to his head. Knowing how efficient these crime syndicate people were 
in settling their internal disputes, Jack doubted that Olaf, Hans and 
Christina had gotten very far. But there were still some things that puzzled 
him. Had Christina been in on the plot to assassinate Schneider the whole 
time? If so ... why did the voluptuous brunette go along so enthusiastically 
with Schneider's scheme that evening? There were some things, he thought, 
that he would never know ... and, in a way, he was glad he knew as little as 
he did. 

Now, he sat down and stretched across the desk, his forehead cupped 
pensively in the palms of his hands. 

He recalled how Becky had packed her bags after they had arrived at the 
hotel in Palma the next morning . . . and remembered how she'd immediately 
left for the airport and the plane which had taken her back to the states. 
His young beautiful bride had turned on him ... perhaps forever. Now, he 
sealed the envelope and placed it into his chest pocket, then turned to the 
window and gazed down at office workers on their lunch hour moving like toy 
soldiers on the street twenty stories below. * 

* 

* 

Becky Thompson rushed out of the surf, feeling a sense of exhilaration at 
the warm sun striking her darkly tanned young body after the refreshing dip. 
God! Malibu was beautiful! She had loved the sun and sand and the long 
languorous days with nothing to do but wait till evening when her date for 
the night picked her up and they went dancing or attended beach parties just 
a few yards from the crashing surf. 

Jim, her man for the afternoon, was lying under their yellow umbrella, 
balancing a bottle of beer on his stomach. She liked Jim - but he was 
getting a little too serious, she thought as she caught the towel he threw 
teasingly up at the brassiere of her revealing bathing suit. She rubbed the 
colorful beach towel over her sun-bronzed thighs and dried her smoothly 
tanned stomach, glorying in the desirous glances from the group of male 
surfers who stood drinking at the cabana bar nearby. 

She wanted to make these moments last, for she was going back to Jack, 
though her young husband still didn't know it. She supposed she'd made him 
squirm back in New York long enough, though, after what had happened in 
Mallorca, she was certain she had every right in the world to insist on a 
complete separation. But she did love him - even a month or so of complete 
freedom couldn't persuade her otherwise. 

Now she settled back on the blanket next to Jim, feeling his hands begin to 
massage her back and apply cooling suntan oil to her skin. She pretended for 
a moment that those were Jack's hands caressing her sensitive flesh ... that 
it would be Jack's long hard cock that would be fucking into her tight 
little pussy a few hours from now. 

The curvaceous young blonde turned and let Jim kiss her, feeling his tongue 
splurge wetly into her mouth. It was nice, she thought . . . but it wasn't 
it ... not the way her young husband would kiss her, not the way it would 
feel a few days from now when she decided the time had come to return home 
to the man she loved. 


THE END
