The Police Girl
by Jason Eggers 


FOREWORD 

This is a frank and shocking book about hard drugs. The publishers hesitated 
and pondered the matter deeply before the decision was finally taken to put 
this explosive novel on the market. The reasons for this strange reluctance? 
Scanning the pages which follow, the perceptive reader will clearly see why 
a civic-minded publisher might think twice about releasing a book which 
reveals the brutal truth quite as honestly and openly as this one does. The 
first consideration, of course, was the protection of those police 
informants and agents who are now risking their lives on a daily basis in 
the all-out war against narcotics. The author has pulled no punches in his 
descriptions of how law enforcement authorities have been forced to fight 
crime on its own savage terms, using spies and undercover informants of whom 
many are necessarily women. It was only after consultation with the police 
chiefs of a representative group of American cities that the publishers were 
convinced that the publication of this volume would be a help rather than a 
hindrance to their heroic efforts. 

The second consideration was even more profound. In telling his story, 
author Jason Eggers has pulled no punches even in passages where other 
writers would have been content to print a line of asterisks and let the 
reader fill in the missing words in his own imagination. The sexual content 
of this novel is overwhelming, but in the final analysis, it was decided 
that the story could have been told no other way since fundamentally it 
concerns a young policewoman who must pose as a prostitute in order to make 
her way into the confidence of a gang of drug merchants. Any faint-hearted 
attempt to invent euphemisms or circumlocutions in telling this gripping 
story would necessarily have destroyed the dramatic and emotional impact 
which Mr. Eggers has so skillfully woven into his compelling and socially 
useful novel. Too long have we accepted sacrifices by the men and women of 
America's police forces, deliberately closing our eyes to the seamy side of 
what these brave people are sometimes forced to do to protect us. If certain 
portions of this book are shocking, the reader may rest assured that the 
real life around us is somewhat worse. 

Nor can it be denied that Mr. Eggers brings excellent credentials to the 
task he has set himself. After winning his Ph.D. in chemistry from the 
University of California at Berkeley, he became associated with an important 
clinic in San Francisco which specialized in the treatment of victims of 
habituating narcotics. Becoming increasingly disturbed at the growing number 
of young people "hooked" by heroin and other similar drugs, the author was 
hired as a consultant by the California police authorities to use his 
accumulated scientific knowledge in the unremitting war against the 
smuggling and sale of illegal drugs in that state. His obvious expertise in 
police and law enforcement procedures comes from more than ten years 
experience in the field. Furthermore, the publishers feel that his skill and 
considerable talent as a writer may well make this the first in a series of 
socially important and literarily significant books on the ills which beset 
American society in the twentieth century. 

The Publishers 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Captain Franklyn followed his usual cautious procedure, aware that the 
business of sneaking around profoundly irritated Dolly, but afraid to risk 
either one of their careers by taking the chance of their being observed 
walking in the front door of her apartment building arm-in-arm. Lieutenant 
Dorothy Wilkinson nodded at her superior officer professionally as she 
stepped out of his car, straightened her blue policewoman's skirt and walked 
into the building without a backward glance, hopefully giving the neighbors 
the impression that the nice captain from the district precinct had just 
given her a friendly ride home and nothing more. The doorman of her 
apartment building saluted her in a cordial fashion, wondering lustfully why 
a sensationally attractive woman like the lieutenant chose to spend most of 
her evenings alone in her bachelor-girl apartment. 

The doorman's curiosity was not abnormal since the severe modest lines of 
her uniform did little to hide the fact that Dolly Wilkinson had the body of 
a lush young goddess. The familiar blue jacket, worn by all the women on the 
force, strained at the buttons to conceal the fullness of her ripe young 
breasts and the unfashionably long skirt bulged temptingly over her 
well-shaped womanly hips, melting smoothly into long, finely tapered legs. 
Her features were regular and serious, and in the considered opinion of the 
doorman, she did not use them to smile nearly often enough. 

Too serious, he told himself in silent frustration as she favored him with 
the merest hint of a smile and marched into the lobby. Probably flat as a 
pancake in bed, if she ever goes to bed with anyone. All work and no play 
makes Jill a bad lay! 

Glancing nervously over her shoulder, the statuesque brunette ascertained 
that the doorman was once again facing the street, and instead of taking the 
elevator up to her apartment, she ducked quickly around to the service 
entrance, a door which could only be opened from the inside and led to a 
back alley where the garbage cans were kept. There she waited patiently, 
breathing a little hard from the excitement despite the fact that she and 
Bill Franklyn had been through this little charade a couple of dozen times 
by now. It was all much easier when they went to his place, but somehow she 
preferred to entertain him in her own home, even at the risk of scandalizing 
the doorman. It made her feel more secure, somehow, and there was a rough 
masculine quality to his apartment which rather frightened her, plus the 
fact that Bill's male friends were in the habit of walking in unexpectedly. 

A soft knock came at the service entrance, informing her that Captain 
Franklyn had parked his car a discreet distance away and walked hurriedly 
down the alley to the back of the apartment building. She opened the steel 
door and he stepped quickly inside. 

"I don't know why we can't just walk in one after the other and nod politely 
to the doorman," she protested as soon as they were together in the privacy 
of the elevator. "All this creeping around makes me feel like a criminal." 

"According to the law, you are," smiled Franklyn slowly. "Don't you remember 
what you learned at the police academy? Article 29 of the State Criminal 
Code makes it a misdemeanor to cohabit for lewd and immoral purposes with a 
member of the opposite sex, punishable by a fine of five hundred dollars or 
six months imprisonment. We're both criminals legally and how does that make 
you feel?" Franklyn was not really serious, despite the fact that he knew 
Dolly would not see the humor in what he said and probably would disagree 
with him. In fact, Franklyn had a lot on his mind today and he was merely 
trying to tease her into a better mood in the hopes of banishing the worries 
which might threaten an otherwise pleasant evening. They had started off so 
well together, he and Dolly, after that first day four months ago when 
they'd made the startling discovery that they were in love. Of course, 
sexually she was still inhibited, terribly inhibited, but that would pass 
with time and Franklyn was a patient man... 

"Well, I don't feel like a criminal!" she snapped back, her voice falling to 
a whisper as the doors of the elevator opened on her floor and she looked 
cautiously out to make sure there was no one to see them in the corridor. 
The hallway was empty and she led him quickly the few steps from the 
elevator to her apartment, her key in hand. "And I don't think what we do is 
exactly lewd and immoral, do you?" 

"I don't know," he replied jocularly, now feeling safe and relaxed as soon 
as her apartment door closed behind them. "I feel just a tad lewd and 
immoral at the moment. Why don't you come here and give your old captain a 
kiss? You looked so good at the Crime Commission hearing today, I wanted to 
jump up on the table and tell everyone in the room that you were mine and I 
love you!" 

"If you're so proud of it, why can't we just let the doorman know?" she 
whispered to him softly, coming obediently into his arms and letting him 
nuzzle her tenderly, his hands automatically reaching for the two sumptuous 
mounds of her breasts. "Ouch! You cops never learn to take your hardware off 
when you take advantage of a girl." 

"Dear, we've gone through the whole business more than once," Bill explained 
patiently, stepping away momentarily to slip off his jacket and then the 
shoulder holster which he hung over the footboard of the bed. "We don't have 
to sneak around, and I know you hate it. All we have to do is to get 
married, and our days of fooling doormen are over." 

"And I resign from the force." 

"And you resign from the force and become Mrs. Franklyn." 

"And I sit around the house getting neurotic while you go to work." 

"No... there'd be children soon enough and there are lots of women's clubs 
you could join... if you want to work we could arrange a job as a social 
worker which would keep you busy, and social work wouldn't be all that 
different from what you're doing now..." 

They had been over this ground any number of times and Dolly recognized 
another argument coming on. Of course, she knew the police force rules as 
well as he did. A man and wife could not be members of the police 
department, and if they got married, one of them would have to resign. 
Furthermore, as the precinct captain, Bill was her direct superior and if 
word got out that they were courting or dating, there would be trouble, 
possibly disciplinary action for him and dismissal for her. Yet she was not 
ready to settle down and become a homemaker, not after working so hard for 
so long to become an officer in the police force. It seemed like such a 
cheat! How could she have known when she became the first woman to graduate 
from the police academy that she would promptly fall in love with another 
cop? 

"It's just unfair..." she sniffled, and Franklyn took her in his arms, 
feeling the lust in him rise as her firmly yielding breasts crushed into his 
chest. 

This was not a particularly good beginning. Tonight, the captain had a lot 
of troubles on his mind, and he knew that a long and possibly stormy 
discussion was in store for them, and he hated to start talking until he had 
a chance to make love to her. She was not much good in bed yet, despite her 
fantastic looks, but Franklyn knew that she was frozen up a little by the 
idea of making love to a man to whom she was not married. If they were 
formally engaged, perhaps it would be a different story, but with this 
impediment to their marriage blocking their way, Franklyn realized that she 
felt too much like a kept woman and her conscience was bothering her. 

"Come on, honey," he prodded her, his arm wound tightly around her waist, 
"let's have a drink and relax for awhile and we can talk later..." 

She grinned at him warmly, making a deliberate effort to relax her body as 
his hands crept under her uniform jacket and caressed the temptingly 
succulent swells of her breasts. Neither of them had ever mentioned the 
delicate topic of Dolly's coldness, even though it was fairly obvious that 
their sex life together was more or less a one-sided affair. Dolly admired 
Franklyn's dedication, courage, intelligence, gentleness - and she believed 
that she sincerely loved him. If it made him happy to take her to bed, then 
it was okay with her, even though the whole sex business made her feel 
somewhat guilty. But Bill was so gentle and so understanding that she found 
his love-making mildly pleasant. Passion, maybe, would come later, perhaps 
after they had resolved the difficulty of the police regulations and they 
had got married. 

Her thoughts were distracted when she felt Bill's fingers fumbling with the 
buttons on the front of her blouse, and she broke away from him for a moment 
to close the drapes. They were on the tenth floor of an apartment building, 
and there was no danger of anyone looking in, but somehow undressing in 
broad daylight made her nervous, and she preferred making love in the dark, 
pitch dark if possible. Dolly was old enough to realize the effect her 
splendidly voluptuous body had upon men, but it embarrassed her so much that 
she had often wished nature had not been quite so generous in endowing her 
with these high set, protuberant breasts which attracted all kinds of 
unwanted attention. 

Furthermore, she preferred to undress herself. Bill was the gentlest man 
alive, but he was forever popping a button or tearing the fragile fabric of 
one of her blouses and somehow she did not like the idea of a man undressing 
her. Bill came up behind her as she stepped out of her panties, having 
modestly turned her back on him even in the subdued light while she removed 
her underwear. He was already naked, and she shuddered at the throbbing warm 
hardness of his penis pressing into the soft twin moons of her buttocks as 
his arms went swiftly around her shoulders, reaching for her breasts. 

Sometimes Bill liked to experiment in bed, playing with new positions and 
arrangement of their bodies, and she silently hoped he was not in the mood 
for any of his little games tonight. The last time they had been in bed 
together, in fact, he had dropped down between her legs on all fours like an 
animal and tried to plant his hungering lips on the little brown triangle of 
pussy hair up between her thighs. She practically cried with fright, and 
pulled away from him abruptly, begging him not to do a thing like that 
again. 

But tonight, the captain seemed too lusty to bother with anything but normal 
sex, and he pulled her over onto the bed, crawling quickly on top of her as 
she obediently spread her legs to receive him. For a long time he caressed 
her in the darkness. The girl felt a mildly warm sensation starting up 
between her legs. His hands swept gently and respectfully over the high lush 
mounds of her breasts, and she noticed that her tiny bud-like nipples had 
become hard and resilient. It was the first time this had happened to her, 
and she wondered vaguely if this meant that things were going to be 
different from now on. It felt good, and experimentally she touched herself, 
feeling the smooth yielding flesh of her breast and then the tough little 
button on top which seemed to be standing up for its rights. 

The captain said little as he caressed her voluptuous young body, but the 
girl could hear his breathing growing hot and heavy, and somehow it pleased 
her to know that there was something about her which could excite him so 
tremendously. 

"Don't hurt me," she begged him quietly, feeling the hot, pole-like shaft of 
his cock probing up between her legs for the narrow, little-used opening to 
her vagina. 

"Don't worry," he replied and for a moment she thought she detected a trace 
of bitterness in his voice. She knew she was not frigid, but it was becoming 
increasingly clear to both of them that she was no ball of fire either, and 
perhaps Bill was getting impatient for her to warm up. She made a determined 
effort again to relax her body, deliberately spreading her long elegant legs 
farther apart in order to give him as much access as possible to the 
interior of her body, feeling his rigidly searching cock find its way up 
between the moist, hair-covered layers of flesh which guarded the entrance 
to her vagina. The police captain pushed, his thick, rigid penis worming its 
way into her tight little cunt as she squirmed slightly, feeling the usual 
amount of discomfort as the width of his organ stretched her vaginal 
opening. Somehow, as often as she and Bill had done this, she never quite 
got used to the sensation, although it was getting progressively easier for 
him to force his way up into her belly. 

"Oooooooggghhhh," she moaned slightly as the hard-bodied policeman pushed 
forward one last time, the bulbous tip of his cock plunging all the way home 
until she could feel the soft spheres of his sperm-laden balls bouncing 
against the smooth inner surfaces of her thighs. Bill held still for a 
moment, giving her inexperienced body the time to accustom itself to this 
impalement, and then began moving gently back and forth, feeling the lush 
succulent contours of her body slowly relaxing and yielding beneath him. 
Whenever they made love, Dolly seemed to pass through a submissively loving 
mood and, each time, Bill thought that perhaps this would be the occasion 
when her body would really catch fire and they could cum together. But 
somehow it never happened. She always seemed to get heated up to a simmer 
and then stop, never quite reaching the boiling point. 

Tonight it was no different. Bill Franklyn was a handsome, athletic bachelor 
in his early thirties, with a good job, and in the course of his adult life 
he had had a lot of bedroom action, enough so that he could consider himself 
a man who knew what was supposed to happen when boys and girls got into bed 
together. But it never quite seemed to happen with Dolly, and the idea that 
he was not capable of turning her on frustrated him enormously. Was he 
losing his touch, or was she just plain cold? In every other way, she would 
make a perfect wife, and her appearance was so lust-provoking and sensual 
that it was insane for her to turn out to be an iceberg in the sack! Christ, 
he thought, I might as well get it over with as soon as possible. His 
rhythmic pistoning increased! 

"Oh darling," she purred, wrapping her arms softly around his neck as he 
fucked in and out of her like a madman, feeling his own release growing 
closer and closer. Her lips were burrowing warmly into his neck while she 
panted heavily and for a moment. Franklyn thought that they had finally 
turned the corner in their relationship. He put every muscle in his hard 
athlete's body into it, trying to make this the fuck that would finally do 
the trick, and slowly he felt her legs creeping up on either side of his 
straining thighs as if she were using her calves to urge him to screw into 
her deeper and harder. Was she going to make it? 

NO! For a moment he had been able to deceive himself but, as he felt the 
familiar searing heat rise up in his testicles, he saw clearly that there 
was really very little passion involved. Dolly loved him and had gone 
through the drill of behaving the way she thought a wildly aroused woman 
would behave. He thanked her mentally for the act, but somehow it was not 
the same as the real thing and they both knew it. 

It hit him hard, as it always did, and he could feel his long, rigidly 
pulsating cock expand as the sperm began its wild rush up her narrow cuntal 
channel, from his balls to the blood-engorged head of his penis. 

"Oh yes, yes, yes," she groaned as she felt him explode inside her. Dolly 
genuinely liked this moment and frankly looked forward to it far more than 
any incidental pleasure she might receive herself along the way. The girl's 
experience with men was limited, and she was not entirely sure precisely how 
much more there was to it than this. Franklyn groaned as he felt his hotly 
ejaculating cock slowly begin to deflate, and he laid his head upon the soft 
cushions of her breasts, listening to the alarm clock tick noisily in the 
artificial darkness. 





* * * * * 





Dinner was quiet. Dolly cooked and, instead of joining her in the kitchen as 
he normally did, Bill sat moodily in front of the fireplace nursing a drink, 
apparently lost in contemplation. Nervously the policewoman set the table 
and brought the roast out from the kitchen for him to carve. 

"Is something wrong, honey?" she asked after they had finished an almost 
completely silent meal. 

"Yeah," he muttered heavily, avoiding her eyes. "But maybe it isn't 
something we should talk about here and now." 

"But what better time... if it's something that concerns us?" 

"Well, okay, but it's something official, and I suppose I should wait until 
you're in uniform and we're both in the office." 

"Bill you frighten me!" she cried, a little dismayed by his serious 
attitude. "What are you going to do? Give me a demerit for having unshined 
shoes or something?" Determined to get to the bottom of this mystery, she 
pulled her housecoat tightly around her waist and crouched at the man's 
feet, leaning against his legs as she waited for an explanation. 

"Dolly, headquarters has put in a formal request for your services. They 
want you assigned to another precinct for temporary duty." 

"Oh... well, that's not the end of the world, is it? Or do you think they 
know about you and me?" 

"No, it has nothing to do with me," the policeman explained unhappily. "They 
need someone like you for a specific job and your name popped out of a 
computer somewhere. You'd be working out of the First Precinct, downtown." 

Dolly shuddered a little at the thought. She and Bill Franklyn had always 
worked about thirty miles away from San Francisco in a quiet, upper-class 
suburb where the crime was normally limited to an occasional drunken driver, 
a second-story man, or a teenager smoking pot. The First Precinct was 
another story altogether - the headquarters for all the high-level 
crime-busting operations in the San Francisco area, it was located in the 
heart of the big, noisy, and occasionally murderous city. Besides the 
thought of being away from Bill, working at First Precinct meant an hour's 
drive each way. It was not a pleasant prospect. 

What could they conceivably want her to do? Dolly was a well-trained 
policewoman, but since her graduation from the academy, she had been posted 
out here in the suburbs and spent most of her time counseling juveniles who 
had gotten in trouble, or settling marital disputes. She had no real 
background for the kinds of law enforcement problems confronted by a big 
city police department. 

"But... how long do they want me for?" she stammered, not liking the sound 
of this at all, and wondering if there was any way she could decently 
refuse. 

"Ludditski said not long, but it would have to be indefinite, because he 
couldn't promise anything." 

"Ludditski? Not the..." 

"Yes, that Ludditski," answered Franklyn shortly, lighting a cigarette and 
exhaling heavily. 

"But Bill, he's the head of the narcotics squad! What could he possibly want 
with me? I wouldn't know heroin from aspirin." 

Captain Franklyn leaned forward, apparently overcome by a sudden rush of 
tenderness toward the girl he regarded as the world's most innocent 
policewoman, and took her face in his hands. 

"Okay, I might as well give it to you in one quick burst. Ludditski picked 
your name out of a list of candidates and he wants you for an undercover 
job. He needs someone good-looking who's not known to the mob downtown. It 
would be dangerous and unpleasant, although obviously I don't know the 
particulars. I got the request in the official mail this morning and a call 
from him this afternoon wanting to know when you could report. I wanted to 
tell him right then and there that you weren't going to report, ever, but I 
was a little afraid of compromising our... our situation." 

"But Bill, what do you mean, not report? I haven't got any choice, have I?" 

"You have two choices as I see it: You can refuse to accept the assignment 
on the grounds that you do not feel competent to do undercover work, and 
I'll endorse it as your commanding officer, saying that in my opinion you 
couldn't act your way out of a paper bag. This is one way, and it might 
work, although we'd be involved in a tug-of-war with headquarters which 
would not be much fun, and your chances of ever getting promoted would drop 
to about zero. The other way is much easier. You refuse the assignment on 
the grounds, that you are resigning from the force, to become Mrs. 
Franklyn." 

"Wouldn't it look a little funny, our deciding to get married just at this 
particular moment?" 

"Not to the people downtown. They know what undercover assignments are like 
and no one would blame me for not wanting to subject my bride to that kind 
of danger." 

"But... how dangerous can it be? What would I have to do?" 

"Beats me. Narcotics doesn't advertise how it does business, but there are a 
couple of people from the force a year killed in that business in Frisco 
alone and Ludditski isn't the man to spare the horses. He's as mean as they 
come, and in his business, they come pretty mean." 

There was a long silence. Dolly put her face in her hands and gazed into the 
fire, wondering how she could bring herself to leave all the comfortable 
pleasant things about her cozy apartment and her challenging, satisfying 
job. Narcotics! It was a dirty, slimy business and she really wanted nothing 
to do with it. 

"Bill, that girl they found dead over on Vine Street last month... you know, 
the pretty one who was only fifteen? Did the autopsy find anything on her?" 

"Yeah," Captain Franklyn responded, seeing where her thoughts were taking 
them. "She died of an overdose of heroin, just what we thought." 

"That's the second one this year, isn't it?" 

"The third." 

"Bill, maybe I'd better go." 

"What? Look, you can't go! I thought we were supposed to be brainstorming 
ways of keeping you out of this mess!" 

"Darling... it's so hard to explain... I'd feel like such a coward, running 
away from the first real job I've ever been asked to do. I mean it's so 
important for society that we stop the thug traffic and save all those 
children..." 

"Listen, just listen to me!" Franklyn was on his feet talking to her in a 
hoarse, angry whisper. "I love you because you're sweet and innocent, and 
I'd like to keep you that way, but to go from the kind of work you're doing 
out here to the jungle downtown is one hell of a big step for a little girl! 
You don't know Ludditski, and I do! The man will stop at nothing to put 
those people behind bars and if he has to get you killed to get evidence on 
somebody, he'll do it with a smile. Damn-it, Dolly, I want to marry you!" 

She had never seen him so angry before, but she knew that every word he said 
was making her more determined to go. She needed some time away from him to 
think, to be on her own. 

"Darling, we can get married," she assured him, running her fingers softly 
over his face. "When I get back..." 

"If you get back," he corrected, his face hardening bitterly. 

Chapter TWO 

"Okay, I'm going to run through this just once, so listen carefully," Marvin 
Ludditski snapped, and Dolly sat bolt upright in her chair as the police 
captain placed a pointer against a multicolored map of the world, After all 
that had happened to her that morning, she was in a mild state of shock, but 
she tried to clear her head and pay the strictest attention to what her 
temporary commanding officer was saying. But it was difficult. She had been 
awakened by a knock at her door that morning at five a.m. and a 
plain-clothesman from the First Precinct had walked in, irritated that she 
was not already dressed and prepared to go. He had ordered her to put on a 
mangy gray wig which he extracted from a briefcase and a pair of huge black 
sunglasses, and finally he had covered her with a ragged old second-hand 
coat which hung down to her knees. By the time she had settled in the back 
of his unmarked car and they had headed for the city, her own grandmother 
would not have recognized her. 

"Let's start with the source," announced Ludditski, his voice hard and 
flinty, as if he were perpetually angry at something. "Overseas operations 
are primarily the responsibility of the Federal Government, but I insist 
that my people get the full picture. Now most of the world's heroin begins 
right here, in Turkey, although some comes from Mexico and these days a lot 
is originating in Southeast Asia. Are you getting this?" 

Ludditski looked at her so sharply that for a moment, Dolly felt as if she 
should be taking notes or sitting on the edge of the chair. The narcotics 
squad chief was a slender man in his middle forties who walked with a slight 
limp, but he had more energy and toughness than anyone else she had ever 
met. They had known each other all of a half-hour at this point, and the 
captain had spent no time at all inquiring about her personal life or trying 
to make her feel at ease in this new assignment. Instead, he was charging 
directly into the matter at hand. 

"Yes sir," she quavered, finding that she was already a little afraid of 
him. 

"Good," he growled, although he did not look as if he was totally convinced. 
"Now let's follow a typical shipment of narcotics from Turkey. Heroin, as 
you probably know, comes from the poppy plant, and the poppies are grown 
illegally by Turkish farmers in the remote outlying sections of the country 
where it would be difficult for the central government to find them, even if 
it were trying hard, which it isn't. The farmers collect the nectar from the 
poppy and distill it on the spot into a semi-liquid crude opium. If you went 
to some neutral port like Beirut today with four thousand dollars in your 
pocket, you could purchase about a kilo of this stuff without too many 
questions being asked. But crude opium isn't good for much of anything, so 
you put the stuff on a Mafia-owned ship which docks at Palermo. The kilo is 
unloaded and driven up through Italy to Marseilles where the processing 
laboratories are usually located. At this point, your dope is worth sixteen 
thousand dollars, but you'll have to spend a little to get it processed into 
pure heroin, or 'horse' as they call it on the street." 

"This is primarily a Mafia operation then?" asked Dolly, now beginning to 
become interested. 

"Mostly but not completely," Ludditski shot back at her in his hard crusty 
voice. "The Mafia handles transport and finance, but the chemical work in 
France is usually done by one of several large Corsican gangs which operate 
on about the same pattern. Okay, you've got your stash through the lab at 
Marseilles and you either take it north to Germany by car, or back down to 
Italy for shipment to the United States. There's a million different ways of 
getting things through customs and the people in this business know all of 
them and invent a new one every month. Tourists, servicemen, students - 
anybody can act as a carrier either knowingly or unknowingly." 

"Are the people running this business drug addicts themselves?" Dolly asked, 
curiously. 

"Hell no, they'd be easy enough to catch if they were. The Mafia disapproves 
of most of the things it tries to get other people to do, including drugs. 
These people are very straight and very sharp. Don't underestimate them. 
They have to be good if they expect to stay in business. Now the kilo for 
which you paid four grand in Beirut is worth about two hundred thousand 
dollars the moment you get ten steps the other side of the customs at 
Kennedy International Airport in New York and slightly more if you can get 
it out here to the West Coast. The Feds do their best, but they aren't 
stopping more than a small fraction of the stuff that's coming in. Once the 
stuff lands here in Frisco, it becomes our problem, and for the duration of 
your assignment with us, your problem." 

Ludditski moved away from the map and sat down behind his desk, lighting a 
cigarette and staring at her intently as he continued his explanation. Dolly 
felt a little like a prisoner herself in this situation. Even though she had 
been allowed to shed the gray wig and the dark sunglasses, she still felt 
inappropriately dressed in a simple navy-blue skirt and white blouse, and 
there was something about the way Marvin Ludditski stared at her that made 
her feel as if she were guilty herself of some crime. 

"All right, now, let's look at the local scene. Once upon a time, the Mafia 
in the United States was a collection of old-timers with moustaches and 
sawed-off shotguns. Nowadays, it's big business, and they operate like any 
other big international corporation with lawyers, computers efficiency 
experts and they look like everybody else. We can arrest junkies and street 
peddlers until the city jail is full and never get anywhere near the boys at 
the top. They..." 

"Couldn't you start with one of these street pushers and work your way 
backwards?" asked Dolly, now fascinated by what she was hearing. 

"We've tried it," Ludditski admitted frankly. "Once in awhile you work your 
way up the ladder for a couple of rungs but these birds never sing and the 
dead end always comes a long way before you reach the top. That's what I'm 
after, Lieutenant, the top." 

"Well... how do I fit in?" 

"That's what I'm about to tell you," he said heavily. "Stand up." 

Dolly did as she was told, somewhat confused by his rapid-fire method of 
talking. 

"Good, now walk over there and come back." Once again, the young woman 
obeyed, marching stiffly to the wall and back to Captain Ludditski's desk, 
feeling embarrassed and ridiculous. 

"Okay, now I want you to do that one more time, this time as if you were a 
prostitute..." 

"A what?" 

"Come on, Lieutenant, haven't you ever seen a prostitute?" 

"Of course... I arrested one about a month ago." 

"Good, how did she walk?" 

"I didn't notice," she admitted lamely, not sure where all of this was 
taking them. 

"You're going to have to start noticing things, Lieutenant. Okay, sit down 
and listen hard. In a minute, you're going to climb back into that outfit 
and the gray wig, and Sergeant Gifford, a subordinate of mine, is going to 
take you to a house in the country, a nice secluded place where several 
members of my staff are waiting. There you will be given an intensive course 
in undercover operations, and it may take as long as a month. We're going to 
give you a new past, a new appearance, a cover story and a lot of techniques 
which just might save your life someday if you learn them well. And we'll 
also teach you how to walk like a prostitute. That's all." 

* * * * * 

"Holy Christ!" the cheerful young customer muttered over his beer to the 
tired-looking old bartender. "Who the hell is that?" 

The elderly tavern-owner looked out of the corner of his eye, studying the 
girl on the stool at the end of the bar as he had at least a dozen times 
before. She was a pale blonde, heavily made-up, with enormous ripe breasts 
which seemed reluctant to stay within the cheap gaudy low-cut blouse she was 
wearing. The slit up the side of her tight, buttocks-hugging skirt exposed 
one magnificently shaped thigh almost to the hip. 

"I don't know," he said quietly, turning back to face his customer. "I wish 
I could tell you, Mac, but I don't know who she is. Came in a little while 
ago and ordered a drink, and she's been nursing it for the last hour." 

"Man, you're getting old," the customer gulped, unable to drag his eyes off 
the woman's voluptuous body. "That is one first-class, Grade A, good 
old-fashioned hooker with a capital "H". What did you think she was, a 
Mother Superior?" 

"I dunno. I've seen a lot of hookers in my day and somehow that broad don't 
look like one to me." The bartender swiped the marble surface of the bar 
with a damp greasy rag while he worried. There was something about the 
presence of this girl in his place which upset his bartender's instincts, 
even though he could not put his finger on it. She was dressed like a whore, 
there was no question about it, he thought. No decent woman would run around 
with her tits hanging half out like that and so much of her ass showing. And 
the make-up job was pure hooker. But he had worked behind bars all his long 
life, developing a sixth sense which told him that something was wrong here. 

 "Shit man! How can you doubt it?" the customer snorted happily. "Look at 
that body! Goddamn, I'd give a week's pay for an hour alone with that 
chick!" 

"I reckon that's about what it would cost you," observed the older man 
cautiously. "If she's really in the business." 

"Listen, buddy, I'll make a bet with you! I say she's a hooker and here's 
ten dollars on it." 

"Better save your money, friend. Why don't you take a walk over there and 
find out? I'll serve you both a couple of drinks on the house if you tip me 
off. Don't like mystery guests sitting at my bar." 

"You're on, brother. Here I go." 

The anxious customer was a sporting goods salesman, and in fact, he did have 
a week's pay in his pocket, although he was not really willing to spend it 
all on one girl. After all, there were six more days to get through after 
this one, plus the kids to think about. But she looked sexy as hell to the 
sporting goods salesman, and he sidled down the bar with a studied attempt 
at seeming casual until he hoisted himself up on the bar stool next to the 
mysterious young woman. 

"Hi-ya, baby," he smiled at her boldly. "Buy ya a drink?" 

The girl turned to look at him, not returning his smile, and nodded briefly 
as if it were a matter of total indifference to her whether he bought her a 
drink or not. 

"Hey, bartender, let's have a couple of Scotches down her and none of that 
cheap rotgut of yours either." 

You're overdoing it, you bastard, thought the bartender sourly, but he was 
as curious as his client, and he took the trouble to crack open a bottle of 
decent Scotch for the occasion, helping himself to a drink to ease his 
nerves. 

"Here's to you, beautiful," said the customer enthusiastically, lifting his 
glass and grinning lewdly down the front of her scoop-necked blouse at the 
full twin rises of her luscious young breasts. "Name's Jack Herolds and I 
sell sporting goods all over the state. What are you selling, cutie-pie?" 

For a moment, the bartender was certain that the tennis racket merchant was 
going to get a face full of expensive Scotch, but then her face relaxed as 
if she were making a conscious effort to be friendly and she gave him the 
barest smile, though continuing to say nothing. 

Reassured by his progress so far, Jack Herolds gave the girl's tempting 
ass-cheeks an experimental little pat, moving closer to her. A more 
perceptive man might have noticed that her body stiffened slightly as his 
hand made its vulgar contact with the firm contours of her buttocks, but 
Jack was too entranced with his own charm to pay much attention. 

"Y'know, baby, you and I could make sweet music together. Why don't we go 
for a little walk, huh? How 'bout it?" 

For a moment the girl hesitated, then silently used her finger to write a 
number in the dust on the bar. "$100." 

"Whew!" Herolds whispered. "For that kinda dough, baby, you better be real, 
real nice to your friend, Jack." 

She gave him another barely observable nod and stepped down off the bar 
stool, slinging her purse over her arm. Jack Herolds winked at the 
bartender, gave her his arm, and the two of them disappeared into the fast 
gathering night. 

"That ain't no hooker," said the old bartender to the empty room, and then 
he went back to wiping the counter with the rag. Mysteries did not amuse 
him. 

* * * * * 

"Hey, you got a place near here, huh?" Herolds laughed with his perpetual 
enthusiasm. "I think my old lady would object if I brought you home." 

Dolly Wilkinson motioned with her hand down the street in the direction of a 
run-down boarding house where she had taken a room, but she continued to 
avoid the man's eyes as they walked together along the sidewalk. Poor thing, 
she was thinking, feeling vaguely ashamed of herself, what an awful surprise 
he has ahead of him. 

"Hey, you don't talk very much, do you?" questioned Herolds. "Are you new in 
this part of town? Been working long?" 

Dolly realized that she had better become a trifle friendlier if she wished 
her act to be convincing for as long as it needed to be. She found herself 
wishing that he would keep his lustful hands off her as they walked down the 
street, but Herold's fingers kept beating a tattoo against the smoothly 
rounded flanks of her buttocks. This was not the kind of operation she was 
really suited for, she had tried to explain to Ludditski, but the captain 
had paid no attention whatsoever to her protests, ordering her into his 
ghastly situation as coldly and casually as he sent patrolmen running to 
bring him cups of coffee. Of course, the first act in this little drama was 
destined to end soon enough, but she knew there would be a second act, and a 
third... 

"This your place?" asked Herolds as she paused at the bottom of the exterior 
flight of stairs which led to her shabbily furnished room. Through the 
living room window, Dolly could see the old hatchet-faced landlady peering 
out at her, all her worst suspicions about this new tenant being confirmed. 
For a moment, Dolly was afraid that the old lady was going to come bustling 
out into the porch and wreck the whole operation right then and there by 
forbidding her to take a man up into her rented room, but the landlady 
contented herself with giving the disguised police lieutenant a menacing 
glare and then returning her attention to her needlework. 

"Yes," quivered Dolly, starting up the stairs and finding that her voice was 
trembling with nervousness every time she spoke. Herolds darted agilely up 
the stairs behind her, and as she paused on the balcony, fumbling with her 
keys, the salesman pressed himself against her from behind, his lecherous 
hands snaking through her arms to squeeze the full tempting mounds of her 
breasts and his loins pressing urgently into her buttocks so that she could 
feel the hard rigid flesh of his penis, already stiffened beneath his pants. 

"Wait 'till we get inside," she begged him, wondering how far she had to let 
this lewd sex-play go in order to make it convincing. Herolds ignored her 
plea, his hands continuing to squeeze and massage her creamy succulent 
breasts, and the button on her blouse broke just as she succeeded in opening 
the door. She plunged into the darkened room, her customer hot on his heels 
as she pulled the shredded cloth of her blouse around her in a desperate 
attempt to hide her tiny dark-ringed nipples from his lustful gaze. 

"Hey, babe, those are the nicest tits I've had my hands on in a long time," 
he muttered, advancing across the room and cornering her between the bed and 
the wall. "Now, what are you going to do to earn that hundred bucks, huh?" 

"The usual," remarked Dolly, thinking that she had to keep him amused for a 
few more minutes before she activated the alarm. "Play along with him for 
awhile." Ludditski had warned her. "Or it'll look too much like a set-up 
job." Herolds stepped up in front of her and she realized that she had to 
let him touch her, at least a little since it would ruin everything if she 
got too goody-goody at this stage of the game. As he drew the torn blouse 
down off her shoulders, his fingers manipulating the tiny nugget-like 
nipples of her breasts, a shiver ran through her inexperienced, and now 
half-naked body, and the man glanced at her sharply, unable to decide how to 
interpret her strange behavior. 

"The usual?" he repeated, a little sarcastically. "Listen baby, a hundred 
clams for that old stuff is a little steep. Why don't you throw in a little 
French, huh?" 

"No, I only do the usual thing," she said quickly, not really sure that a 
"little French" amounted to and not anxious to find out at the moment. 

"Honey, you new at this business?" the salesman inquired craftily, his hands 
reaching around her waist to tug with the zipper of her skirt. "You know, 
you got pretty good English for a hooker." 

"Oh, you learn a lot in bed," she answered with an attempt at humor, her 
hand intercepting his as he tried to strip her completely by undoing her 
skirt. "I've been around, all right!" 

Gradually, Dolly was beginning to see that she had arranged things all 
wrong. The electronic box which would alert the morals squad was hidden 
under the mattress, and she had assumed she could control her client better 
than this. She had planned on having him remove his clothes while she 
perched on the bed, and when he got down to his underwear, she would press 
the button, and the raid would take place. But it was not working out that 
way! Herolds was all over her, and she was already being undressed, and if 
she dared sit down on the bed to push the button, he would be on top of her 
in a minute. The man was hot as a pistol! 

"Tell you what, baby, why don't I show you how we like to do it out here on 
the Coast? The California way, okay? Hey listen, here's something I always 
wanted to ask one of you broads. How many guys do you think you've fucked 
since you started in this business? I mean a rough estimate. I don't expect 
you to remember exactly." 

She realized that he was trying to distract her with this vile conversation, 
and she tried to repress a flinch as he used the word "fuck" but the man was 
out-maneuvering her at every turn. She felt the zipper on her hip give 
suddenly, and the next thing she knew, her skirt was crumpled on the floor 
and she was almost totally naked except for her brief frail pair of white 
cotton panties. 

"Oh, a lot," she stammered, letting him push her down on the bed since she 
knew there was no other way of getting near the box. Herolds paused for a 
moment to slip out of his pants and she quickly reached under the mattress, 
found the electronic gadget they had given her at headquarters, and squeezed 
with all her might. Naturally, there was no noise in the room but she felt 
instantly reassured to know that Ludditski and his men were now piling out 
of a parked car nearby and would be barging in the door any minute now to 
"arrest" her for prostitution. It was going to be embarrassing, having all 
those men seeing her without her clothes on, but anything was preferable to 
having this raging animal maul her like this! 

"Come on, baby," muttered Herolds lustily as he crawled naked across the bed 
toward her, his rigidly swollen cock hanging beneath his belly like a cannon 
about to fire. "Let's get them panties off and see what a hundred-dollar 
pussy is like." 

"Oh, take it easy," she pleaded, trying to slow him down. Ludditski and his 
men should be coming through that door any minute now, and today she would 
have earned her Lieutenant's salary! 

"What do you mean?" he snarled, now really excited and eager to go. "I 
didn't come up her to play games with you, sweetheart!" Rearing up over her, 
his hands seized the thin fabric of her panties and yanked violently, 
stripping the last vestige of modesty from her body. Dolly was rapidly 
forgetting about the role she was supposed to be playing, now reacting like 
a desperate woman in danger of being violated. Whimpering with fear, she 
fought frantically, trying to draw her knees up to her chest, but the 
sporting goods salesman was too quick for her. Seizing her knees with his 
muscular hands, he threw his body over hers, forcing her delicately 
trembling thighs apart with brute strength. 

"No, please..." she gurgled, now absolutely consumed with fear. 

"Never... saw... a whore... like you... before," he gasped, totally 
perplexed at her unwillingness to play his kind of game when she was 
obviously in the business of trading her voluptuous young body for cash. But 
whatever the reason, he had no intention of letting her get away with it. No 
cheap tramp could get Jack Herolds this excited and then dare to turn him 
off! 

The woman's body was strong and trimly athletic, and Herolds could feel the 
springy sinews in her legs tensing as she wriggled herself across the bed on 
her back in an effort to escape from him. Instead the movement played into 
his hands. The girl's head slammed accidentally into the wall, stunning her 
temporarily, and the would-be customer seized the opportunity in an instant, 
spreading her long, finely tapered legs apart, his face plunging 
triumphantly down to the helplessly exposed triangle of light brown pubic 
hair, simultaneously pinning her struggling arms to the mattress. 

The frightened policewoman's head came up off the bed in stark horror as she 
saw this vile ravishment of her loins coming closer and closer with nothing 
to stop it. Where was Ludditski? There had been plenty of time for him to 
come to her rescue! Had the signaling device failed somehow? 

Unfortunately not knowing that he was destined to be interrupted, Jack 
Herolds was chuckling happily under his breath as he surveyed the naked, 
helpless body of the splendidly-built young woman he falsely believed to be 
a prostitute. Slowly and torturously, he slid his hot eager hands across the 
delicate insides of her frantically jerking thighs, easily overcoming her 
futile attempts to clamp her legs together. Unable to keep her eyes off the 
desperate defilement which was coming closer with every minute, Dolly looked 
down wide-eyed through the valley between her high quivering breasts at the 
man's gleaming, lust-brightened eyes as he hovered threateningly over her 
loins. Should she reveal that she was a police lieutenant? Tell him to get 
away from her immediately or she would have him arrested? It was the only 
way to avoid the humiliation and indignity of what was coming and yet she 
knew, even as she thought about it, that telling who she really was would 
ruin everything, assuming the man believed her. And where the hell was 
Ludditski? 

Jack Herolds had no problems at the moment, and his eyes feasted on the 
moist pink flesh displayed before him like some savage pagan sacrifice, his 
for the taking. The girl seemed frozen to the mattress, terrified, but 
Herolds was too absorbed in what he was about to do to waste any time 
speculating on why this whore was so nervous about practicing her trade. As 
a matter of fact, the salesman liked them better if they fought back a 
little, and he blew teasingly into the moist brown cuntal hair for the 
depraved pleasure of seeing her helplessly pinned body writhe in anguish. 
Then, his face lowered and he moved down with an animal-like tongue slashing 
mercilessly into the warmly throbbing passageway of her cunt. 

"Oh, no! Oh please, don't!" Dolly heard herself groaning, but the lady 
lieutenant had enough presence of mind to bite her lip before she gave the 
game away. It was a nightmare, a living, breathing, Technicolor nightmare 
and after all the years of living in the calm quiet avenues of her suburb, 
she could hardly believe that such a thing could happen to her, Dorothy 
Wilkinson! 

Believe it or not, it was happening! The man's head was buried greedily 
between her legs, and she could not throw him off no matter how hard she 
tried. He was lapping at her secret flesh like an animal, his tongue 
burrowing in and out of her involuntarily dilating vagina. The man's eyes 
were wide open and every time she stared down between her widespread thighs, 
she found him gazing lewdly back up at her. He was watching her lustfully, 
waiting for the sign of weakness which he knew had to be there somewhere. 
This chick must like sex, and like it a lot, he reasoned, or she never would 
have taken up whoring for a living in the first place. The right touch here 
and there, and she would go off like a firecracker! Before he was finished 
with her, she'd be throwing in a few extra fucks for free and then asking 
him for his phone number. 

But first, he had to find out where her weak points were. A little 
exploration was in order, and without releasing his hold on the wrists of 
the imprisoned woman, he used his arms and shoulders to nudge her legs up 
higher so that her kneecaps rose in the air and his lascivious eyes spotted 
the tiny brown circle of her anus, pitifully exposed to anything he chose to 
do to it. 

Dolly felt his depraved attack coming and tried frantically to wiggle away 
from it, but her feeble efforts were useless and his busily prying tongue 
wiped obscenely around the edges of her rectal opening, teasing at the 
tight, fleshy ring. 

"Aaaaggghhhh!!!" she gagged and groaned, feeling a strange new charge of 
stimulation rise up deep within her debauched loins and roll across her 
nakedly writhing body like a tidal wave. She was sobbing in despair, but in 
the back of her mind, she knew that her flesh was beginning to react 
sensuously to this barrage of new and unfamiliar stimulation. In spite of 
her horror at the things this total stranger was doing to her, tiny tingles 
of undeniable pleasure were stirring deep inside her belly, increasing in 
intensity as his mouth and tongue roamed erotically back and forth between 
the moist, freely-flowing orifice of her cunt and her tightly clenched 
little anus. 

Oh, where was Ludditski? For a moment, she almost hoped that the tough, hard 
narcotics squad captain would not show up at all. Surely it would be better 
to be ravished and raped in privacy rather than have all the members of 
Ludditski's team see her pinned in this helplessly disgraceful position. 
What would she do with the hundred dollars? Give it to the Fund for Police 
Widows? 

There were goosebumps over her firmly quivering breasts when Herolds finally 
raised himself up on all fours over her, looking more savage than ever. The 
depraved smile flickered over the man's face as he reached down and took his 
long rigid penis in his hands, waving it at her obscenely and pulling the 
skin back over the uncircumcised tip to reveal the blood-engorged gland. 

"How about this, huh? I know it ain't the biggest cock you've ever seen, but 
it's reliable. Does what I tell it to, and pops right up there whenever I'm 
in the mood. Now I'm gonna give it a one hundred dollar present just to show 
my appreciation for all those years of loyal service. Spread 'em wide, baby, 
'cause daddy's comin' in!" 

Dolly heard a vehicle jerk to a stop in front of the boarding house, and the 
low harsh tones of Ludditski's voice as he gave orders to his men. The 
rescue! But Herolds had already covered her nakedly squirming body with his 
muscular form, and she could feel him jabbing savagely up into the tender 
flesh of her loins, the heated tip of his cock-shaft searching for the 
entrance to her moistly clasping cunt. She had to hold him off for another 
few seconds! 

"Hey, wait a minute!" she managed to gasp. "I thought you wanted a French?" 

There were footsteps coming up the long narrow staircase, but Herolds was 
too intent on what he was doing to pay any attention to meaningless noises 
outside the building. 

"Now you're talking, baby," he crowed triumphantly, his cock jerking 
mightily as the idea of violating this young woman's tender mouth filled him 
with perverse delight. The footsteps were coming closer as the lust-driven 
salesman crawled quickly over the trembling policewoman's prostrate form, 
his long thick cock swaying dangerously close to her parted lips. So that's 
what a French is, she thought and shuddered with horror, seeing his hotly 
pulsating penis approaching her mouth. 

"I knew a little action with the old tongue would warm you up, sweetie," he 
bragged, his buttocks resting lightly on the firm high mounds of her breasts 
as his hands wound into her hair. 

"Come on, now. Open up." 

"OPEN UP!!!" came a stentorian voice from the door, and Dolly suddenly 
realized that she had been holding her breath for a long time. 

"What the fuck?" cursed Herolds, swinging quickly off the bed and diving for 
his pants as the door opened and three patrolmen in uniform burst into the 
room. Just in time, the masquerading brunette remembered who she was 
supposed to be, and screamed mightily as she scrambled for her dress. 

"Okay, buddy, hold it," snapped one of the policemen, pushing Herolds 
roughly into one corner. "We may need you a little later as a material 
witness." 

"For Christ's sake, what is this?" objected the salesman, half angry and 
half frightened, but he complied meekly with the policeman's order and stood 
obediently in the corner, his penis drooping sadly as this brutal 
interruption drained all the sexual stimulation away from him. 

"Vice Squad," muttered one of the patrolmen as Dolly struggled into her 
clothing, the same tawdry skirt and low-cut blouse she had been wearing a 
half-hour before. Ludditski was standing quietly off to one side, his keen 
hawk-like eyes darting quickly over the young woman's lust-arousing body as 
she quickly dressed. As soon as she was reasonably covered, a young 
patrolman approached her, the handcuffs ready. 

"Miss, you are under arrest for violation of Article Twenty-Nine of the 
State Criminal Code prohibiting prostitution. You are warned that you are 
not required to make any statement at this time or until you are able to 
acquire legal counsel and that anything you say may be used against you." 

"You son-of-a-bitch," she spat in his face. This was not exactly the line 
Ludditski had instructed her to use, but she felt perfectly justified in 
saying it. Where the hell had they been all this time? 

"I've heard worse, lady," the young cop grinned agreeably. "What do we do 
with lover boy here, Sarge?" 

"Sergeant," Ludditski answered nonchalantly, never lifting his gaze from 
Dolly's face. "Get his name and home address, and remind him to put his 
pants on before he goes out. Let's get this whore back to the station 
house!" 

Chapter THREE 

Morning Court. Dolly had attended these dismal sessions on various 
occasions, but always as an official police witness or as the arresting 
officer when the suspect was a woman. But from between the bars of the 
prisoner's cell, the whole scene looked even less pleasant than normal. Not 
that it had ever been much fun. Besides being embarrassed and unhappy, she 
was cold. Luditski had obviously decided not to take a chance on 
compromising her in front of the other prisoners, and so she was given no 
special attention or comforts. She had spent a miserable night on a lumpy 
pallet in a dark cell with several hard, silent female prisoners who all 
seemed filled with bitterness and hatred for a world which had used them so 
badly, and Dolly's few attempts at conversation had gotten nowhere. She was 
still wearing the sexy skirt and blouse combination in which she had been 
arrested, but it looked even worse at this hour of the morning. She felt 
ridiculous facing the judge in this sluttish outfit. 

The young patrolman who had arrested her the night before was there along 
with a few anxious-looking people who were probably the parents or relations 
of other arrestees. The crime reporter from the local paper sat in the 
corner, filing his fingernails and obviously convinced that no good stories 
were going to come out of this morning's session. 

A tough redheaded prison matron in charge of the group of female prisoners 
took Dolly by the arm gently and led her out to face the bench. Ludditski 
was nowhere in sight, and Dolly mentally cursed him, imagining that the 
narcotics specialist was probably home in bed, or enjoying his morning 
coffee. The arresting officer marched up, gave her a friendly nod, and Dolly 
realized with a shock that there was probably no one in the courtroom who 
knew that she was anything but a prostitute. It would be just like Ludditski 
to tell no one who she was, not even the guard who brought her in, just to 
make sure that the treatment she received was absolutely convincing. The 
judge did not bother to look up at her as he read the indictment. 

"You have been accused of violating Article twenty-nine of the State 
Criminal Ordinance," he droned sleepily as he studied the docket. "Trial 
will be held in the Third District Court on twenty-three October and bail is 
hereby set at five hundred dollars." 

She was somehow shocked by the abruptness of it all. The arresting officer 
yawned and left while the matron returned Dolly to the cell in the corner of 
the courtroom, exchanging her for an older woman who was obviously suffering 
from a violent hangover. A terrible depression settled over the young police 
lieutenant as she sank wearily down on a stool in one corner, waiting for 
the judge to finish with all the women so that they could pay their bail and 
be released. She had never dreamed she could miss anyone as desperately as 
she missed Bill Franklyn at this moment. 

The events of the previous day all seemed like a bad dream, a nightmare, and 
she shuddered as she thought how she had come close to being completely 
ravaged by the sporting-goods salesman. Ludditski would say, of course, that 
it was all in the line of duty, but it had been Dolly Wilkinson who had 
suffered the humiliation and degradation of the situation, and the more she 
thought about it, the angrier it made her feel. Damnit, there was no reason 
to subject herself to this misery! If this was what being an undercover 
police agent was like, then she wanted no more of it. Bill had obviously 
been right to tell her to duck it if possible. Maybe she should get in a cab 
as soon as she got out of here, go straight home, and if they wanted her to 
resign from the force... 

Without warning, a frail young teenage girl who had been clinging to the 
bars at the other end of the cell, lost her grip and pitched over headlong 
onto the cold cement floor. Just a moment before, Dolly had been gazing at 
her questioningly, wondering what someone so young and innocent-looking 
could possibly have done to get herself arrested, and now she lay sprawled 
on the floor as the other female prisoners scattered out of the way, anxious 
not to get involved. 

Dolly's police training was too strong, and even though she knew she was 
endangering the role she was supposed to be playing, she darted to the 
girl's side, finding her semi-conscious, and very, very sick. The teenager's 
pulse was weak, and her face was chalk-white. A fine, light layer of cold 
perspiration was forming on her forehead, and Dolly's first aid training 
told her instantly that this child needed to be hospitalized - and fast. 

"What's wrong with her?" inquired the matron, looking down professionally. 

"She's in shock. You'd better get her covered with some blankets and taken 
to a doctor fast," Dolly replied unthinkingly. 

The matron dropped to one knee and confirmed this diagnosis herself, and 
then signaled to two courtroom attendants to carry the unconscious teenager 
away. There was a moment's delay, and Dolly's eyes fell on the girl's arm. 
It had been pierced by a needle several dozen times so that the flesh was 
pitted and discolored by bruises. 

"Why... look, she's on drugs," she told the matron quickly. "This must 
be..." 

"Withdrawal," confirmed the older woman. "Ain't pretty, is it?" 

"But she's so young," Dolly murmured unhappily as the two attendants gently 
hoisted the slender, fragile form of the girl into their arms and carried 
her away. 

"They get younger every day," observed the tough red-haired woman. "If she'd 
only said something last night, we'd have taken care of her. She was brought 
in for shoplifting and she was probably getting desperate for a fix then." 

"I don't know much about it," said the disguised police lieutenant 
nervously. "Will she recover?" 

"From withdrawal? Sure, nobody dies at that age from withdrawal sickness. 
It's the dirty needle that'll give her hepatitis or the accidental overdose 
that'll finish her off for good. The average addict doesn't live more than 
eight years after his first shot of heroin." 

"Oh, the poor thing..." 

"Well, I hope you took a good look, honey, because most of the gals in your 
business get mixed up in drugs sooner or later. Although I'd guess you used 
to be a nurse at one time, so maybe you know better." 

"I studied once..." Dolly explained weakly, a little intimidated by the 
matron's authoritarian manner. 

"Well, study some more. You're a nice-looking kid, and I don't want to see 
you in here again on an Article twenty-nine. You hear?" 

"Yes, Ma'am." 

* * * * * 

The undercover policewoman expected at some point to be led into an office 
for a conversation with Captain Ludditski, but she was processed out 
quickly, finding that someone had placed five hundred dollars in her purse 
with which to pay the bail. She wanted to get her hands on the captain and 
make him explain why his morals squad had taken ten minutes to get to her 
after she had sounded the buzzer, but she did not dare march into his office 
and risk ruining the cover he had so painfully established for her. She was 
still toying with the idea of quitting now before she got hurt, but she 
could not drive out of her mind the scene of that pretty young teenager with 
those horrible puncture marks in her arm collapsing on the floor, She knew 
from Ludditski's lecture that it was next to impossible to cure addicts. 
There were medicines and treatments which would work as long as the drug 
addict was locked up in a special hospital somewhere, but once he was 
released, a "fix" was easily available, and few ex-addicts were strong 
enough to resist the temptation. The only answer was eliminating the drug 
pusher, and that meant the mob behind him. 

"Where we going, lady?" inquired the taxi-driver. 

A good question, she thought humorlessly, giving him directions to the 
boarding house where she had been arrested the day before. Ludditski's 
orders were simply to establish a semi-criminal reputation in this 
neighborhood and hang around until something happened. It had been obvious 
to her from the beginning that the police captain had some specific reason 
for believing that something would turn up, but he had not chosen to take 
her into his confidence. All right, she would give it a few more days just 
to see what happened, but she was through with dragging salesmen back to her 
room to prove she was a bonafide member of the underworld. Being arrested 
once for prostitution was bad enough. 

She alighted from the taxi in front of the boarding house, feeling perfectly 
ridiculous about the way she was dressed and she vowed that whatever else 
happened, she was never going to put on this slinky black dress and the torn 
low-cut blouse again. 

"Oh it's you!" came a voice from the balcony, and Dolly looked up to find 
her landlady staring angrily down at her. "I thought they'd locked you up 
for good!" 

"No, it was all a terrible mistake," Dolly stammered, but she saw 
immediately that the situation was hopeless. 

"Get your bags and get out!" ordered the old woman furiously. "I run a 
respectable establishment here, and there's no room for a gutter tramp like 
you!" 

This was to be expected, but the young woman had hoped desperately that she 
would at least have the opportunity to sleep for a few hours before pounding 
the streets looking for another place in the district to stay. Well, she 
thought bitterly, at least my bad reputation has been thoroughly established 
around here. If I told the old battle-ax I was a lieutenant in the 
Metropolitan Police, she'd have a heart attack. 

An hour later, she had packed the few articles Ludditski had allowed her to 
bring along and was trudging past the bar where she had encountered Jack 
Herolds the night before. Poor guy, she was thinking, well at least he 
didn't lose his hundred dollars. That will teach him to stay home with his 
wife once in awhile. 

"Hey, baby, looks like you could use a ride," came a voice from a long black 
automobile parked by the curb. Her womanly instinct told her to turn her 
head and keep walking, but just in time she remembered exactly what kind of 
woman she was supposed to be. She stopped, and the car itself attracted her 
attention. It was a Cadillac, the latest model, and it stood out in this 
dreary run-down section of town like a diamond in a coal bin. 

"I guess I could," she told the driver simply. "Which way are you going?" 

"Your way, baby," the man replied. "Hop in." 



* * * * * 

"Well, Bill Franklyn! What brings you down into the sweltering jungles of 
the First Precinct? Having a crime-wave out there in the sticks?" 

"No, everything's quiet, Marv, as usual," Franklyn replied, settling into a 
chair and lighting a cigarette. "Although we're a little short-handed at the 
moment without Lieutenant Wilkinson." 

"Ah yes, Dolly. Doing a tremendous job, that girl, if she gets out of this 
in one piece, I'm going to recommend her for an award. I suppose that's the 
real reason for this visit, isn't it? Curious to know how she's getting 
along?" 

"Well, yes." Franklyn affirmed, making a tremendous effort to conceal the 
fact that he was personally very involved with the lady lieutenant. "I like 
to keep track of my people, even while they're on temporary duty with 
someone else..." 

"Okay, that's justification enough," decided Ludditski, rising to close the 
door lest their conversation be overheard. "We've got her planted, and it 
happened a hell of a lot faster than anyone ever expected. It took only a 
couple of days to establish her reputation as an underworld type, and the 
moment she was released from prison, one of Tony Valenti's boys picked her 
up. Naturally, we'd hoped this would happen since the boarding house where 
we arrested her is right down the street from the real estate business 
Valenti runs as a front operation, but we never dreamed it would happen so 
fast. The Mafia keeps that neighborhood covered like a blanket and a 
good-looking girl like Wilkinson attracts attention." 

"Whoa, you're going too fast for me," protested Franklyn, not liking the 
sound of this at all. "She was in prison?" 

"Yeah, we had her posing as a hooker, then arrested her on an Article 
twenty-nine. Mighty fine little actress, that girl." 

"And Valenti's boys... you don't mean?" 

"Sure as hell do. Tony Valenti, the king pin, the man we've been wanting for 
a long, long time." 

"My God, people have a way of disappearing when they get in Valenti's way... 
listen, Marv, this girl hasn't had the training to deal with a situation 
like this... you're going to get her killed!" 

"I hope not," replied the narcotics squad leader, his grim lips thin as he 
examined his old acquaintance across the cluttered desk, knowing that 
Franklyn had never really approved of his methods. "She's the best plant 
we've been able to make within the Valenti organization. With any kind of 
luck, she should be able to put her hands on the evidence we need to bring 
the bastard in." 

Franklyn squirmed uneasily in his chair, becoming unhappier by the moment. 

"But what makes you think that somebody as savvy as Valenti is going to 
trust her, even for a moment? She's just a girl in off the streets..." 

"I've been watching this man for a decade, Bill," said Ludditski evenly," 
and I think I know him better than his own grandmother. Valenti is tough and 
very professional, and he's got scientists and lawyers and technicians 
working for him, but there's a weakness in his organization, and the 
weakness is him; he likes girls. You and I like them too, but Valenti loses 
his head and if he makes a fool of himself over Lieutenant Wilkinson, it 
won't be the first time, but with any kind of luck, it'll be the last." 

"You mean you're using that girl as sex-bait?" 

"That's right. Does the idea offend you?" Ludditski shot back quickly. "How 
would you have handled this operation?" 

"That's not the point. Narcotics isn't my field, but I don't believe in 
breaking laws in order to catch criminals. Besides, I still don't think Miss 
Wilkinson is at all suited for this kind of operation... Valenti's going to 
want her to put out soon enough and when he does..." 

"And when he does?" prompted Ludditski, who was starting to get the 
impression that there was more to Bill Franklyn's concern than pure 
professional interest. 

"And when he does, he's going to find out that she is definitely not a 
whore. The girl is sexually very innocent!" 

"Oh, that's very interesting," drawled Ludditski sarcastically. "Do you test 
your lieutenants for sex knowledge, Captain?" 

"Goddamnit, Marv, you know what I mean! You can't work side by side with a 
woman for almost a year, and not get some idea of where she stands as far as 
the bedroom is concerned. The girl is completely involved in her career, and 
just hasn't had much time for men." 

"Except maybe for old Captain Franklyn?" 

"I'm going to ignore that, Ludditski," snapped the tall young precinct 
captain. "But I'm telling you one thing. That girl is not going to be able 
to convince a Mafia capo that she's sexually promiscuous, because she's not! 
What happens the first time he tries to take her to bed?" 

"That," replied Ludditski slowly as he stretched and walked to the window, 
"Is one hell of a good question." 

Chapter FOUR 

"Good morning, Mr. Valenti," Dolly said brightly as her new boss walked into 
the real estate office. The Mafia chieftain was not particularly tall, but 
his body was robust and muscular like a wrestler's, and he moved with the 
solid confidence which massive physical strength gives to a man. He was 
somewhere in his mid forties, this much Dolly remembered from the file she 
had been given by Ludditski, but in appearance he seemed at least a decade 
younger. In fact, he shattered all her carefully formed preconceptions of 
what a Mafia boss ought to look like. In a rough outdoorsman kind of way, 
the man was distinctly handsome and likable, and this unsettled her a 
little. 

"Honey, we don't stand on formalities around here. The name is Tony. Now how 
do you like your new job?" 

"Oh... it's fine, uh... Tony. There doesn't seem to be much to do, though," 
she stammered, a little nervously. In actual fact, there was nothing to do 
but sit behind a large desk in the front office of Valenti's real estate 
office, and act as receptionist on the rare occasions when someone came in 
looking for some real estate to buy or an apartment to rent. In charge of 
this business was an old white-haired man everyone called "Uncle," and who 
operated out of a small office next to hers, apparently spending most of the 
day reading girlie magazines. It was quickly obvious to Dolly that Valenti 
was not at all concerned with selling houses and apartments, but he 
apparently did not think she was bright enough to realize this fact. 

"And how 'bout the room?" he inquired, leaning against her desk and looking 
down at her, his eyes widening with lust as he surveyed her ripely 
voluptuous figure. 

"Better than what I'm used to," she smiled at him, remembering what she was 
supposed to be. It was, in fact, a nice room, located a few steps away from 
her desk on the same floor. Valenti and a variety of other people lived 
upstairs, but there was a private entrance to the big three-story building 
and thus far, Dolly had not been invited to go above the ground floor. 

"Yeah, walking the streets is no business for a good looking chick like you. 
Why'd you leave the East Coast, anyway?" 

"The cops," she answered, trying to make her voice sound angry. "Bums 
wouldn't let a girl make a living." 

"Yeah, well, they're no better out here," the hood snarled. "Always sticking 
their big noses into people's business. Look, you got any problems; you come 
talk to me, okay?" 

"Okay, Tony." 

The Mafia capo nodded at his attractive new receptionist and sauntered 
cheerfully up the stairs to the second floor, unlocking the door to enter 
and locking it securely after him. Things had been going exceedingly well. A 
shipment of "horse" had just come in by air through Canada without a 
moment's difficulty from the customs police, and his laboratory specialists 
had already had it mixed with sugar to cut it down to the proper strength 
for sale on the streets. This morning, his agents had passed it on to the 
men who would retail it to the local pushers, and the money was already 
safely in the bank. Business was good and Carlo had brought him this 
marvelous new piece of ass to fool around with until it was time to worry 
about the next shipment. Man, she looked good, he told himself as he 
wandered into the living room where his second-in-command, Carlo, was going 
over some reports. Maybe he would have a go at her tonight? After all, she 
was just a hooker, despite her looks, and hookers could not be too fussy 
about such things... 

"Hey, Carlo, that broad you picked up, you check 'er out good?" he demanded. 
Carlo looked up from his papers and nodded. 

"Yeah, as far as I could. She just got in from Boston, but maybe we oughta 
drop a line to our friends out there just to make sure. But she's a whore, 
all right. Took a room at the boardinghouse down the street and she was 
giving it to a customer when the vice squad came in. 

"So, she's okay?" 

"So, she's okay to sit at a desk downstairs and smile at people, sure," 
responded the mug carefully. "I wouldn't trust her with anything until we 
hear from Boston." 

Carlo was a mean looking man with a long livid scar on his cheek, a souvenir 
from the days when he worked on the streets for Tony's father as a 
"persuader". He was absolutely ruthless in carrying out orders, and his keen 
animal intelligence and loyalty had won him favor in the Valenti family. 
After the old man's death, Tony had made him number two in the organization 
and Carlo had taken over much of the administrative work, leaving Tony free 
for things which really interested him, such as women. 

"Gonna do some relaxing tonight," confided Tony. "You wanna pick up a couple 
of cases of champagne and some chow? Bring in a couple of girls and tell the 
boys there's a celebration in my apartment about ten." 

"How 'bout the new broad?" Carlo demanded suspiciously. 

"Sure, why not?" 

"I think it's too soon." 

"Goddamn, Carlo, I ain't gonna let her inspect our books," Valenti exploded. 
"I just want to fuck her!" 



* * * * * 

Carlo stopped by Dolly's desk as she was preparing to quit for the day, 
bluntly informing her that there would be a party that night in Mr. 
Valenti's apartment upstairs and that she was "invited," even though she 
could not imagine how she could possibly say no. When she returned to her 
room, she found a new dress laid out on the bed, another token of Carlo's 
thoughtfulness. It was a brief black minidress, with an impossibly low 
neckline, and she blushed as she surveyed her indecently exposed body in the 
mirror of her room, but once again, it was not possible to refuse. She put 
it on, reminding herself that she would have to stand up very straight all 
evening, or the full creamy mounds of her breasts would come tumbling out 
into full view. 

Tony's "friends" all seemed to be tough ruthless men, and the policewoman 
shivered fearfully as she entered the lushly decorated apartment, suddenly 
realizing what these people were capable of doing to her if they were to 
find out what she was. She mingled in the crowd, feeling hands lewdly 
patting her bottom and understanding fully for the first time that her life 
was in serious danger. She had seen enough already to convince her that 
Ludditski's suspicions were substantially correct. These people were 
hardened criminals, men who were quite ready to kill her if they needed to. 
She desperately wished that she had taken Bill Franklyn's advice and 
resigned her commission from the force when she had the chance. Now it was 
too late and she had to go through with it! 

Tony smiled at her from across the room, and Carlo pushed a drink into her 
hand as she looked around helplessly. 

"Go ahead, baby," he suggested, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her. 
"Just jump in and enjoy yourself!" 

The second-in-command studied her boldly, making no effort to conceal his 
lascivious sexual interest. The boss was hot for this chick, the thug 
reminded himself, and that meant hands off, at least for the moment. But as 
soon as Valenti got tired of her, and he got tired of them all eventually, 
then he was next in line for this big-breasted baby. When he got through 
with her, then he would hand her over to the boys, just to keep their morale 
up. It took more than regular money to keep the boys happy. They needed a 
special little treat once in a while, and this chick would do fine! 

Dolly wandered around the apartment, looking at the luxurious furnishings 
and the expensive pictures on the walls, realizing that she should be 
gathering information, but not sure precisely how to go about it. Ludditski 
had instructed her to look for records, memorize faces, try to remember 
names... pretending to be looking at the art work, she eavesdropped on 
several conversations. 

"I don't think it coulda been our stuff... unless somebody fucked up in the 
lab..." 

"All we know is that the kid hit an O.D.... the stuff coulda come from 
anywhere." 

Ludditski had given her a short course in underworld terminology, and she 
understood immediately the meaning of this conversation. An addict had 
apparently died of an overdose of heroin, called an "O.D." for short, and 
these two were coldly discussing whether or not there had been an error in 
the laboratories, making the heroin-sugar mixture stronger than usual. 
Neither man seemed particularly concerned about the dead addict but the 
quality of the product was important to any businessman. She moved on, 
noticing the liquor was being consumed by the gallon. There were 
appreciative glances aimed at her from all sides, but no one seemed willing 
to step up and talk to her and she guessed that perhaps she had already been 
identified as a "friend" of the boss. The thought sent chills up and down 
her spine. 

"...so I told him to button his lip, or he'd have to take the 
consequences..." 

"That bum has bugged us once too often... I think we better talk to the boss 
about shutting his big mouth permanent like..." 

Dolly finished her drink, and moved back into the living room where Valenti 
was just breaking away from a group of his thugs. 

"Hey, baby, you don't have a drink," he purred into her ear, his arm sliding 
quickly around her slender, supple waist. "By the way, that dress looks 
great on you, honey." 

"Why... thanks, Tony," she managed to say, accepting another drink 
unwillingly. This was going to be a problem, she realized. Ludditski had 
gone to great lengths to convince these people that she was a whore; it was 
only natural that they expected her to behave like one. What could she do? 
If Valenti wanted to take her to bed, was there any way in the world she 
could refuse without giving herself away? 

"Uh... do all these people work for you?" she inquired casually, trying to 
gather a little information which might be useful when and if - they finally 
brought the mob to trial. 

"Sure," affirmed the gang leader easily. "They're all real estate salesmen. 
Most of our work is done out of the office, which is why you don't see much 
of them during the week." 

"And the girls?" There were half-a-dozen good looking women in the room, all 
dressed in the most extreme fashions, and Dolly guessed that they were call 
girls, brought in for the occasion. 

"They all work for me too," smiled the gang leader with an expansive gesture 
of his arm. "Everybody works for Tony Valenti, and everybody does what Tony 
tell 'em to, ain't that right, Lucy?" 

The girl named Lucy turned around and giggled as she heard Valenti call her 
name, and Dolly saw that she was a sexy, tough blonde girl who was most 
certainly not a real estate saleswoman. Tony reached out as she approached 
him, his hand headed directly for her full voluptuous breasts, but the girl 
made no attempt to avoid his humiliating caress. Ignoring the fact that at 
least ten people had turned around and were observing the scene, Valenti 
deftly pushed his hand down the front of the girl's v-necked dress and 
scooped up one sumptuously ripe breast. 

"Hmmmmm," he murmured mockingly. "What have we here?" 

"Oooooh, your hands are cold!" she shivered. 

Valenti's goon squad had been drinking heavily, and the room rocked with 
laughter, but the girl named Lucy gave no sign of being embarrassed, 
laughing as hard as the rest of them. Dolly forgot her original decision to 
sip her drink slowly and drained her glass, hoping the booze would settle 
her nerves a little. 

"Hey, how 'bout a strip, Lucy?" called out Carlo who had been standing by 
the bar, knocking back drink after drink. "Show us a little of the old 
stuff!" 

"Oh, you guys," the girl protested with a grin, but the men immediately 
formed a circle around her while Valenti sank down in an easy chair to 
watch, pulling Dolly casually down on his lap. 

"Oh!" she cried softly, a little alarmed at this unexpected maneuver. You've 
got to remember that they think you're a prostitute, she reminded herself 
severely, and your life depends upon it! 

"You comfy?" he inquired calmly, arranging her body so that her shoulder 
rested against his chest, and her legs curled up on his lap. She was 
anything but comfortable under the circumstances, but she smiled at him 
anyway, wondering desperately how long she was going to have to endure this 
torment before she could put her hands on the evidence Ludditski needed and 
make her escape from this horrible place. She squirmed in the man's lap, 
trying to arrange herself better and noticing that, the way she was lying, 
Valenti could look directly down the front of her dress at the softly rising 
mounds of her creamy-white breasts. 

"Put some music on then," Lucy was instructing the men who wanted her to 
perform a striptease and someone started a record spinning on Tony's hi-fi. 
Dolly found another stiff drink in her hand, and downed it quickly, feeling 
the alcohol rush through her bloodstream, bringing back some of her courage. 

"Lucy used to do this professionally before she came to work for me," 
explained Valenti in a casual manner. 

Dolly nodded, feeling her head begin to spin slightly from the alcohol. The 
music filled the room and the girl named Lucy began to dance seductively, 
her lithe, well-stacked body swaying with the music. As the blonde woman 
slowly peeled the dress off her lust-arousing form, Dolly suddenly became 
aware of Tony Valenti's cock which was slowly twitching and jerking against 
her leg as the erotic spectacle excited him. The police lieutenant tried to 
shift her buttocks without making it obvious that she was trying to avoid 
this direct sexual contact, but Valenti moved his body with hers, and they 
ended up in approximately the same position, the slowly hardening shaft of 
his cock thrust deliberately against the yielding flesh of her thigh. 

Lucy's dress dropped on the floor, and a sigh seemed to float through the 
room as each of the men drifted toward the nearest woman. Dolly noticed that 
the sexes were evenly matched numerically, speculating that Valenti had 
brought in a gang of call girls to entertain his "troops" after some 
successful operation. This lewd spectacle would excite them and the girls 
were probably at their complete disposal. There was just one question: Who 
was Valenti himself planning on spending the evening with? 

The answer seemed pretty obvious, and Dolly realized that there was going to 
be no way out of this bind. Had Ludditski foreseen this? Did he plan on 
having her ravished by the gang leader as part of his strategy? 

"Pretty good, huh?" commented Valenti, casually reaching up with his one 
free hand and caressing her soft womanly breasts as she rested against his 
chest. 

"Why... yes," she managed to reply, feeling his fingers pry beneath her 
neckline and inch toward the tiny brown buds of her nipples. Valenti was 
handling her precisely as if she were property! He was not even taking the 
trouble to try to seduce her, or trick her into the bedroom. He was treating 
her precisely like a... like a whore. 

Lucy stood brazenly before them, and Dolly realized that she had never seen 
breasts so large in her entire life. Her own breasts were so generously 
rounded that they had frequently embarrassed her, but the ex-stripper was 
absolutely mammoth, and a groan of repressed sexual desire spilled out over 
the room as she slowly removed her brassiere, allowing her full mountainous 
mounds to swing free, tantalizing the group as she stood before them clad 
only in her long black stockings and a frilly pair of bikini-style black 
panties. 

"Come on, baby, we wanna see everything!" cheered Carlo from the bar, but 
Dolly noticed that the crowd was slowly thinning out. Two men had already 
disappeared with their girls, presumably into other rooms, and another 
couple was necking furiously on the couch. This was the beginning of an orgy 
- there was no longer the slightest doubt in Dolly's mind. Valenti's lips 
were buried in her neck and there was every reason to believe that he 
intended to make love to her as well. Would he be able to tell that she was 
inexperienced and slightly cold? How did prostitutes perform in bed? This 
was one area not covered by any of Ludditski's lectures. 

"Now, leave the stockings on, baby, I like 'em," Carlo contradicted crudely, 
and Dolly looked up in time to see the last of the spectators inch off 
toward a back room, leaving just herself and Valenti, plus Carlo and the 
stripteaser. The moment of truth was getting closer every minute, and Dolly 
fought off the panicky temptation to make a dash for the door, knowing she 
would never make it to the street alive. But she couldn't go through with 
it! This was asking too much of her! They should have picked someone with 
more experience, someone who had known a lot of men in her lifetime and who 
could handle a situation like the one which was staring her in the face! 

"Ah, baby, that's good!" proclaimed Carlo as the blonde stripper slipped 
skillfully out of her panties with a graceful pirouette and then stood still 
before them, naked except for the stockings which the thug had commanded her 
to leave on. 

"How 'bout this, boss?" he called, walking slowly toward the girl. "Ain't 
this the nicest thing you every saw?" 

"Not the nicest," commented Valenti, squeezing one of Dolly's full desirable 
breasts as he spoke. "But pretty nice. Looks good enough to eat." 

"That's what I was thinking... but the other way around. How 'bout it, baby? 
You ready for a little action with that lovely mouth of yours?" 

Dolly turned pale, but was a little reassured to notice that the naked girl 
also seemed a little stunned by this cruelly obscene proposal, as if she had 
not bargained for anything quite as savagely abrupt as what Carlo was 
suggesting. The man's bold statement took Dolly by surprise as well, and the 
young policewoman had to remind herself that these were not normal men and 
they did not play by the normal rules. What they wanted, they took. 

Carlo stepped forward, unbuckling his pants as he faced the trembling 
stripteaser, and Dolly unconsciously drew closer to the gang leader as if 
for protection. 

Thinking she was at last warming up a little, Valenti responded by pushing 
his hand up under her short dress skirt, his fingers plunging for the smooth 
naked skin up between her legs. The girl wiggled uncomfortably, but there 
was no way in the world she could tell him to stop. She was a whore, wasn't 
she? And why would a whore object to a little thing like that? 

"No... look, Carlo, not out here in front of everybody," the stripper was 
pleading, and for a moment, Dolly felt sorry for her. But Carlo was 
remorseless. One hand shot out like lightning, and before Dolly's eyes could 
focus, he had forced the startled woman to her knees. 

"When I ask you really polite-like for something, baby, it don't do to tell 
me no. There ain't nobody here but us chickens, so what you got to be shy 
about?" 

Carlo towered over her triumphantly, enjoying her obvious unhappiness. Lucy 
was a good girl and he had, had her in the sack more than once, but she 
thought of herself as a dancer, just because she had jumped around on the 
stage without her clothes on in front of a bunch of dirty old men. Well, she 
was dirt, and he was just the man to show her exactly how low she could go 
if she had to. Carlo had fought his way up out of the gutter with brains and 
guts, but he always enjoyed degrading someone else whenever he got the 
opportunity. And while the boss was busy feeling up the new chick, this was 
his chance to have some fun. 

"Come on, Lucy-baby, I know you got a pair of hot pants for old Carlo, now 
don't you?" 

The girl looked up at him, studying his face to see how serious he was about 
this lewd depraved business, but there was nothing in his expression to 
indicate the slightest hope for mercy. 

"Old Carlo has a time with these gals," Valenti remarked callously, his 
invading hand digging even deeper up between the brunette undercover agent's 
legs until his fingers found what they were looking for, the warm 
"vee"-shaped triangle of her pussy, inadequately defended by the thin fabric 
of her panties. Dolly twitched on the man's lap, feeling the lustful shaft 
of his rigid penis pushing into her leg from the other side, but found that 
she could not drag her eyes away from the horrible fascination of the scene 
before them. 

His pants partially opened, Carlo stepped closer to the kneeling blonde 
woman, one hard calloused hand winding its way into her long hair. With his 
free hand, he unzipped his fly, and extracted the thick bulbous pole of his 
cock, already hardened and pulsating with the perverted excitement of the 
torment he intended to inflict upon the helplessly kneeling woman before 
him. 

A conflict of emotions was building up in Dolly's shivering body as she and 
Tony Valenti watched this erotically-charged spectacle. She felt sympathy 
for the naked dancer, imagining how it must feel, even for a creature like 
Lucy, to be forced to accept a man's rock-hard penis into the delicate 
sanctuary of her mouth. But also, she was feeling tiny wisps of forbidden 
pleasure starting up deep in her belly, as hard as she tried to pretend that 
they were not there. Was it the furious activity of Valenti's expert hands, 
or what she was seeing that excited her? It was hard to say, but in the end 
she had to admit that she was perspiring lightly and her breath was coming 
more quickly than usual. 

For the voluptuous stripper, the moment of resistance seemed to pass the 
instant she saw Carlo's murderously thick cock staring her in the face. The 
blonde-haired woman took one deep breath as if she were surrendering her 
naked body to some darkly sexual inevitability, raising her hands to cup the 
man's soft sperm-filled balls in her delicate fingers. One hand curled 
firmly around the thick cock-shaft, and Dolly realized that the woman had 
done this before when she saw her expertly push back the thick leathery 
covering of the man's uncircumcised foreskin. For all her college diploma 
and higher education, Lieutenant Wilkinson realized that she had never 
before seen an uncircumcised man before and would not have known what to do. 

But Lucy quite plainly knew exactly what to do, even though she had been 
reluctant to run through her bag of tricks in front of witnesses. Obviously 
experienced at the art of pleasing a man erotically, the girl blew teasingly 
on Carlo's naked cock, forcing a groan of pure pleasure from his lips. Then 
she began using the tip of her tongue very delicately, moving it slowly up 
and down over the enormous blood-engorged tip of his penis, causing the 
man's hips to jerk convulsively as she sent shivers of erotic sensation 
through his over-stimulated nervous system. 

The police lieutenant's eyes widened with surprise as she watched the other 
woman's lips nibble agilely at the moist red glans, slowly but surely 
accepting the tip of his throbbing organ into the unnatural sanctuary of her 
mouth. Lieutenant Wilkinson was an adult young woman, and she had always 
been aware that desperately obscene things like this happened among 
criminals and prostitutes, but now that she was actually seeing it... 
somehow it seemed less horrible than she had always imagined. 

"Pretty good, huh?" commented Valenti, as if she were a regular observer of 
erotic spectacles like this and he wanted her professional opinion. 

"Uh... yes," she murmured, feeling his hands roaming hotly over the 
nakedness of her defenseless breasts, tweaking and pinching her tiny, 
bud-like nipples until they stood up erect and bold like two toy soldiers on 
parade. What astonished her more than anything else, was the suddenness of 
it all. A few minutes ago, they had all been standing around drinking Scotch 
and behaving like reasonably civilized human beings; then the whole fa ade 
had collapsed the moment Valenti had crudely put his hands on Lucy's 
upthrust voluptuous breasts. It was as if the air had been thick with some 
sexual explosive, merely waiting for a spark. 

"Come on baby, that's enough foolin' around," Carlo ordered her crudely. 
"Now get to work." 

Without a moment's delay, the completely subjugated woman obeyed, her cheeks 
hollowing as she sucked his long, throbbing pole so far into her throat that 
Dolly felt sure that the submissive stripper was going to choke. Lucy 
grunted contentedly as she went to work on Valenti's top man, sucking and 
licking as if she had been born into the world for no other purpose. Both of 
his hands snaked around to the back of her head to hold her firmly as his 
hips started to flick forward and backward, driving the long, thick shaft of 
his cock in and out of the tight red circle formed by her laboring lips. 

The mesmerized undercover girl found herself drawing closer to Tony Valenti, 
as if he were some kind of knight in shining armor who would protect her 
from this kind of dire humiliation. The ridiculousness of what she was doing 
occurred to her immediately, of course, since she knew perfectly well, that 
Valenti might easily be planning to subject her to the same kind of 
treatment, or worse, although at the moment, she could not think of anything 
worse. In fact, she found herself wishing that Valenti would take her into 
his bedroom and do whatever he was going to do just so that she would not 
have to watch anymore. 

There was a low, guttural moan from the savagely violated girl, and Dolly 
saw that a subtle change had come over her. Before Lucy had merely been 
following orders, doing what she had to, but now her attitude seemed to have 
changed, and she was lewdly sucking him for pleasure. Her eyes were closed 
in something akin to rapture, and her soft expert hands roamed daintily 
around the base of the hard, muscular cock-shaft pounding so incessantly 
into her cruelly stretched mouth. The woman's cheek hollows were slowly 
filling with an obscene mixture of saliva and the secretions oozing from the 
tip of the man's glans and she had to swallow occasionally to avoid choking. 

On the backstroke, Carlo was withdrawing his long, punishing rod almost 
completely so that only the hot bulbous tip remained inside the woman's 
straining lips, and then slamming forward with all the brutal strength in 
his body. Dolly looked on in desperate fascination, watching the muscles in 
his buttocks tense and relax with each merciless lunge. Carlo's heavy 
swinging balls were beating a steady tattoo of lust against the buxom 
blonde's defenseless chin everytime he powered his way remorselessly into 
her. 

There were hums and gurgles of passionate acceptance and subjugation 
sounding deep in Lucy's throat, and the shocked brunette policewoman could 
not get over the idea that the other woman was actually enjoying this 
brutal, mindless mistreatment. The persistent tantalizing itch inside her 
own body seemed to be getting progressively worse the longer Dolly watched, 
and she tried to shut her eyes and close off the dreadful scene. But 
somehow, she was much too curious, and her eyelids popped back open a second 
later while Tony Valenti's hand continued its relentless exploration of her 
loins. The man's fingers found the edge of her flimsy white nylon panties, 
and with a deft flick of his wrist, he managed to burrow his outstretched 
middle finger underneath the leg band, putting his hand directly on the 
naked shuddering flesh of her vagina. 

Dolly writhed as she felt his lecherous invasion of the inner mysteries of 
her body, but the sordid role she was supposed to be playing did not permit 
her to offer any overt resistance. She groaned slightly as his prying 
fingers located the tiny pink jewel of her clitoris and the Mafia boss 
entertained himself by twirling the sensation-packed button back and forth 
between his thumb and index finger, sending unbeckoned shivers of illicit 
and unwanted pleasure up and down her spine. 

"Oooohhhhh," she moaned softly feeling the forbidden flames spreading up 
into her stomach, and realizing that her arms had unconsciously wound around 
the man's neck. What on earth are you doing? She asked herself in alarm. 
You're supposed to be finding the evidence Ludditski needs to put this 
criminal in prison! And you're letting him stir you up, like a stupid 
teenager! 

But there was nothing to be done about it. She was as aroused as she had 
never been in her life, and there was no way in the world to calm herself 
down again. She tried focusing her thoughts on Bill Franklyn, the man she 
loved, but somehow Valenti's prying plundering fingers took precedence, and 
weird erotic fantasies and daydreams swarmed uninvited into her liquor-dazed 
mind. 

In front of them, Carlo was working like a madman to bring it all to an end, 
raining a shower of foul obscenities down on the girl's head as he pummeled 
into her savagely. His dark, Italian eyes gleamed with depraved delight as 
he watched the moistly glistening shaft of his cock worm its way insistently 
past the tight little circle formed by her ovaled lips, and the Mafia 
hoodlum felt the release he was looking for creeping steadily up on him. 

The debased stripper's full, succulent breasts began quivering in a frenzy 
as Carlo banged into her with one long fearful stroke after another so that 
the girl had to steady herself by hanging on with both hands to the 
blood-swollen rod which was plowing relentlessly into her mouth. She could 
feel his cock expanding as the moment approached, inexorably, inevitably, 
and the girl moaned in abandoned masochistic joy, knowing that in another 
second, he was going to cum into her mouth. 

The watching police lieutenant gasped as it happened, never in her 
innocently sheltered life having realized that an orgasm could be so 
violently intense as this one seemed to be. Carlo virtually screamed, giving 
passionate expression to all the lust which was storming out of his body. 
The girl gagged and gurgled madly, sputtering as the searing hot jets of 
potent cum spattered into the back of her throat, and Dolly stared wide-eyed 
as the girl's mouth and throat worked and bobbed furiously up and down so as 
not to lose one white-hot drop. 

She was swallowing it! This was a whole new thing for the undercover hooker 
who had automatically assumed, without really thinking about it, that the 
girl would turn her head away at the last moment to avoid this final 
degradation. But she seemed to want to do it, and Dolly's eyes widened as 
she saw the girl swirl her tongue lasciviously back and forth over the 
broad, meaty surface of the man's wildly ejaculating cock, cleaning him the 
way a mother cat licks her kittens. 

Carlo's jerking penile instrument emptied itself into her for a long minute, 
and then a great relaxation seemed to come over the man's powerfully-built 
frame. Below him, Lucy continued to nibble and suck at his deflating cock 
tenderly, as if she could not bear to see it all end so soon. 

With a sudden powerful movement, Tony Valenti ended the scene abruptly. He 
was on his feet in a second, cradling Dolly in his arms as if she weighed no 
more than a child. 

"Come on, baby, let's you and me do our stuff! I'm hot as a pistol and ready 
to fire!" 

The last thing she saw as he wheeled and carried her into the bedroom, was 
Carlo's laughing face, and the piteous scene of the naked Lucy, still 
kneeling slavishly before him, the man's glistening soft cock still held 
tenderly between her cum-coated lips. Then she buried her face in Valenti's 
neck, feeling her mind fade drunkenly in and out like a distant foreign 
station on a portable radio. 

Chapter FIVE 

She was drunk and glad she was drunk, because the inexperienced young 
policewoman knew that, cold sober, she could never face what was coming. It 
was worse than being raped, since a woman being ravished against her will 
could at least, close her eyes, clench her fists, and endure it until it was 
over. She was going to have to pretend to enjoy what he was about to do to 
her, and this would be bad enough except that at the moment, she was not 
sure how much pretending was going to be involved. If going to bed with this 
mobster was what had to be done in order to bring him to justice, then she 
felt that a dedicated police lieutenant ought to be able to do it, even 
though she would never have volunteered to be a sexual pawn in the vicious 
game of chess between the Mafia and the narcotics squad. But what frightened 
her more than anything at the moment was the prospect of losing control of 
herself and submitting to him for real, the way a woman submits to the man 
she loves. This would be the ultimate betrayal of everything she stood for! 

Valenti deposited her unceremoniously on the big comfortable double bed in 
his room, having kicked the door closed with his foot as he entered. She had 
expected him to fly at her immediately, ripping the new dress into shreds, 
taking her brutally like the savage he was. But he surprised her, sitting 
quietly over her as she sprawled helplessly on the coverlet, smiling at her 
calmly and enigmatically. 

"You know, I like you a lot," he told her with his deep masculine voice. 
"I'm glad you came to work for me." 

Dolly's head was still spinning with the enormous quantity of liquor she had 
consumed, and his gentleness somehow calmed her fears, even though she could 
feel his hands undoing the buttons on the side of her outfit. He undressed 
her like he would a child, chuckling lewdly as he slipped the revealing 
garment down off her shoulders, baring the lust-arousing sight of her 
voluptuous, upthrust breasts. Her nipples were hard and erect from the 
sexual stimulation she had already received, and the man paid homage to 
them, bending quickly and fastening his wetly hungering lips over the tip of 
one sensuous mound. She squirmed as she felt his tongue busily titillate the 
bursting round bud of her nipple, and Valenti took advantage of the 
opportunity to slide her dress off her completely, leaving her clad only in 
the highly inadequate pair of panties. 

"Goddamn, you've got the best looking body I've ever seen," he complimented 
her crudely, but sincerely, lifting his lips from her bosom and addressing 
himself to the task of removing the brief nylon panties which were her last 
protection. Knowing she had no choice, Dolly cooperated by lifting her hips 
off the mattress and allowing him to slide her one remaining garment over 
the twin moons of her buttocks and down over the slim tapering curves of her 
legs. She was naked, stark naked, and an involuntary shiver ran through her 
body as she saw him begin to undo the buttons on his shirt. 

"Hey, you look scared," he observed accurately. "What'sa matter?" 

"Nothing, Tony," she assured him, hearing her voice quiver with nervousness 
as she spoke, watching his robustly masculine body emerge as he quickly shed 
his clothing. She closed her eyes as he removed his undershorts. not wanting 
to see the instrument which was destined to impale her, and a second later 
she could feel the warmth of his naked body as he rolled next to her on the 
mattress. 

Still he did not throw himself wildly on top of her, and this unexpected 
gentleness threw her off-balance. She had been prepared for the pain and 
humiliation of being ravished, but this unusual tenderness was difficult to 
deal with. In her head she knew that this man was a criminal and a murderer, 
but for some reason he was treating her like a bride and not like the low 
degenerate whore he had every right to expect her to be. 

His hand rested calmly on her hip, and she held absolutely still, waiting to 
see exactly what he was going to do to her. Gently and almost respectfully 
he caressed her lushly ripened body, his fingers once again returning to the 
soft moist hair of her pussy, and he began stroking her sensuously, knowing 
she had been fired up by watching Carlo and Lucy and wanting to rekindle 
that flame before he took her. 

Strange chick, thought the Mafia leader, as his lust-widened eyes studied 
the savagely arousing body which was laid out naked and helpless before him. 
Doesn't act much like a whore, although on second thought maybe this timid 
innocent bit is what brings in the customers. She makes a guy feel like he's 
the first man in the world who's ever touched her. If it's an act, then 
she's pretty good at it. 

What the hell is she doing working for me as a receptionist? Christ! A body 
like this is practically a license to print money! Big tits, thin waist, 
good hips - man, she's a wet dream! All right, if she likes her screwing 
soft and romantic, that's the way we'll do it. That exhibition stuff Carlo 
digs is okay once in awhile, but a classy broad like this deserves to be 
fucked with dignity. 

Besides, Valenti lived with the impressive knowledge that one of his rivals 
in the drug business could put a bullet through his head tomorrow, or that 
interfering bastard, Ludditski, could get lucky and put him behind bars for 
a long, long time. It seemed a good idea to take pleasure whenever it was 
available. And this chick represented pure pleasure, there was no question 
about it. 

"Ooooohh," the girl moaned softly as his questing fingers dug into her 
moistly clasping cuntal tissue, and Valenti discovered to his great joy that 
she was still tight and firm between her long, finely tapered legs. Deciding 
that she could not have spent too much time on the streets, he inched his 
body downward, his lips tracing a wet, provocative path between the 
sumptuous mounds of her breasts and across the flat smooth plane of her 
belly. 

He's going to suck me, Dolly realized as the man settled himself between her 
legs, crouching over her on all fours and pushing her thighs apart with his 
palms. Just like that salesman. But somehow, this time, the experience was 
altogether different. It was the same depraved action of a man lewdly 
placing his lips on the soft flesh of her cunt, but Jack Herolds had been 
rough, taking her by force, while Valenti was gentle and delicate, moving 
his searching lips carefully through the golden brown pussy hair which 
masked the entrance to the moist interior of her body. 

Expertly, he located the tiny pink organ of her clitoris and toyed with it 
teasingly with his tongue until she could feel the minute little nub of 
flesh swell with excitement, more than doubling in size as he slavered 
attentively over it. Dolly tried to hold still, but her hips were rapidly 
sliding out of control and before she knew it, her buttocks were grinding 
gently up and down on the yielding surface of the mattress. Valenti's hands 
prodded and kneaded the soft skin of her two smoothly rounded ass-cheeks 
opening her up farther and farther as his tongue explored her succulent 
pussy flesh. 

"Aaaahhhhh!" she sighed passionately as his lips went to work on the 
hair-covered lips of her hotly throbbing vagina, his tongue spearing 
deliberately up into the wet clasping passage of her cunt to torment the 
interior walls of her body. Alcohol and lust were accumulating in her brain, 
and she found she could no longer think very clearly as he lapped at her 
sensitive cuntal flesh, sending wave after wave of electrical shocks up and 
down the length of her dangerously overstimulated body. 

Valenti was delighted with her reactions, and pressed his tongue eagerly 
into her in order to make her sigh and moan. The Mafia boss had grown a 
little weary of the call girls he normally slept with, since the 
professionals routinely flopped on the bed, spread their legs obscenely 
apart, and earned their money with all the enthusiasm of a housewife doing 
the dishes. 

This chick was different somehow. There was an air of maidenly modesty about 
her, even if she had been a hooker, and Valenti had already deduced that 
there was a red-hot passionate streak somewhere deep inside her. If he could 
get this tall leggy brunette beauty really turned on, the results could 
easily be spectacular. With this chick, he wanted to do everything! 

She was all ready to be fucked, there was no room for doubt, and the man 
raised his face from her loins to gaze happily across the lushly voluptuous 
surface of her magnificent body. Why wait any longer, he asked himself, and 
he got to his knees and crawled over her, while Dolly, her eyes still 
closed, continued to shamelessly writhe and groan beneath him. He sensed 
that the girl's spirit had been completely broken, and he maneuvered his 
hardened cock-pole between her widespread thighs, pressing the heavy broad 
tip into the narrow furrow of her loins. Valenti knew his cock was big, and 
he hoped that the size of his excitedly rigid instrument would not cause her 
too much pain as he wormed his way up into her tight little cunt. Sometimes 
he enjoyed torturing a woman by slamming his blood-engorged penis right up 
into a vagina, but now he was afraid that the pain would destroy the 
delicate, self-sacrificing mood she seemed to be in. 

The warm moist folds of cuntal flesh seemed to clasp the tip of his eagerly 
pulsating cock as he toyed with her, but the man resisted the temptation to 
drive into her wetly waiting pussy with a mighty shove. Now she was 
completely at his mercy, and he suddenly realized that he was passing up 
opportunities which might not come again. His eyes swept hungrily over the 
fantastic young body stretched out helplessly before him, and he studied her 
breasts intensely, deciding that he had never in his life seen such full 
desirable mounds just waiting to be used in some bizarre fashion. 

An idea filtered into his criminal mind, something he had always wanted to 
do with a woman and had never quite gotten around to. Instead of pushing his 
thick hard cock up into the quivering softness of her vagina, he raised 
himself up on his hands and knees, and straddled her lust-provoking body 
with his legs. His penis dancing up and down in lewd anticipation, he 
crawled slowly forward, watching her face intently to see if she made some 
sign of protest. There was none, even as the moist head of his instrument 
trailed lewdly across the flatness of her stomach and up to her rib cage. 
Gently, he slid his cock into the narrow valley between her two proudly 
upthrust breasts, his knees now resting on either side of her naked torso. 
The girl's eyes were still closed and she seemed to be floating in some 
thick sensual fog so dense that she was hardly conscious of what went on 
around her. In this condition, Valenti knew that he could do anything he 
wanted to her. 

Grinning lecherously to himself, the Mafia boss reached down and crushed the 
woman's firmly resilient mounds together, completely burying the hard thick 
shaft of his penis in a mass of velvety breast flesh. The sensation was 
exquisite and Valenti cursed himself for not having made this experiment 
years ago. For a moment, he contented himself by playing excitedly with her 
nipples, tweaking the tiny little buttons until they seemed ready to 
explode. Then, as his massively thickened cock began to tingle and twitch 
with lustful desire, he found he could no longer resist the temptation. 
Slowly and patiently at first, the man rocked his hips back and forth, 
carefully easing his blood-swollen organ in and out of the tight fleshy 
valley formed by her breasts being pushed together. Her softly yielding 
mounds were so close together that the tiny hardened nipples looked like two 
comically crossed eyes, gazing up at him as he gradually increased his 
stroke. As he pushed forward, the red bulbous tip of his cock poked out of 
this warm unnatural tunnel, seeping sparkling drops of seminal fluid as he 
worked himself into a wild state of excitement. 

He warned himself to go slowly, however, sensing that his eagerly jerking 
penis was in danger of erupting before he was ready, and there was a great 
deal more he wanted to do before he arrived at the moment to spill his lewd 
cum into the virginal whiteness of her body. He sat still for a moment, 
gazing fixedly down on her face, curious to see what kind of effect this 
depraved maltreatment was having on the pinioned dark-haired beauty. 

She was turning on more and more intensely, despite the unnatural acts he 
was performing upon her helpless body, and Valenti was delighted at the 
idea. The man knew that whores rarely became genuinely excited when 
submitting to the lusts of a paying customer. The fact that he had succeeded 
in arousing her did wonders for his already massive ego. Or was he kidding 
himself? Was this all just a hooker's act? 

No, there was no possibility of an error. Behind his back, her hips and 
buttocks were grinding hungrily down into the mattress as her 
over-stimulated body pleaded for the sexual release she needed so badly. 
This girl had been repressing her needs and physical passions too long, and 
now they were coming out like a waterfall! She would go for anything now! 

The image of Carlo screwing ruthlessly up into Lucy's mouth flooded back 
into Valenti's mind, and the thought so excited him that he nearly came 
right on the spot, just thinking about it. Just because a girl was a hooker 
did not necessarily mean that she would perform that particular little 
trick, and Valenti had known a number of call girls who had refused, or at 
least tried to. Was she ready for this? He had to find out! 

Her lips were red and moist as she licked them incessantly with her tongue, 
and the man found that he could not tear his eyes away from the tempting 
cavern of her mouth. She was obviously half out of her head with unsatisfied 
desire, and this would bring her no closer to the release she was dying for, 
but it was an experiment he had to try. 

Releasing his grip on her breasts, the Mafia chieftain inched his way up, 
placing his knees just under her armpits and falling forward over her head 
on his hands so that his long fiery cock rested gently on the tip of her 
chin. The girl's eyes were still closed, but Valenti sensed that a certain 
tension was now running through her body, a tension which had not been there 
a moment before. Was she going to resist? It made no difference in the final 
analysis, since he was strong and cruel enough to take her any way he chose, 
whether she liked it or not. But it would be so much better if she did it 
willingly. Valenti was feeling mellow and friendly tonight, not in the mood 
for raping her. 

Dolly's head was spinning wildly with the terrible combination of alcohol 
and lust, and a strange masochistic sensation had taken possession of her 
unwontedly aroused body. In the tiny portion of her brain which was still 
aware she knew perfectly well that she was prostituting herself, 
surrendering to all the vile lusts which she had successfully kept 
suppressed for so many years, but she also knew there was nothing she could 
do about it now. Somehow this evil man had managed to push all the right 
buttons. She sobbed inwardly as she thought how fast and how easily she had 
caved in, but she knew in all honesty that the hot streak of wantonness had 
been in her all along, just waiting for the right combination of 
circumstances to bring it to the surface. 

The man was closing in on her now, and she realized that he wanted to do to 
her what Carlo had done to the striptease dancer. He wanted to put his long, 
hard penis into the undefiled sanctuary of her mouth and make her suck it. 
He wanted to shoot his hot steaming cum into the depths of her throat! 

The time for resistance was long gone, and she had let it pass without 
making a stand. Now it was too late to fight back. The man's hotly throbbing 
cock-head had crept forward another inch and was now resting directly on her 
wetly parted lips, and a long moment went by before either of them moved. 
The girl could smell vague traces of her own liquid passion mixing on the 
broad meaty surface of his cock with the droplets of cum which were seeping 
from the naked glans. What should she do now? 

Valenti watched in amazement as the girl's mouth simply fell open, like that 
of a child preparing to swallow a pill, understanding at last that she was 
totally defeated and conquered. He had not forced her or threatened her the 
way Carlo had been required to do with Lucy. She had virtually invited him 
in, like an honored guest. The Mafia gang leader raised his buttocks 
slightly to improve upon the angle of entry, and then allowed his heavy 
muscular body to settle over her, the long pulsating rod slowly gliding past 
the rounded ovals of her lips and up into her waiting mouth. He almost went 
out of his mind when he felt her soft, warm cheeks close in and beginning 
sucking - timidly at first, and then with a genuine hunger that could not be 
faked. 



* * * * * 

Carlo sat in the office, quietly sucking on a bottle of whiskey. The 
second-in-command was a strange man in many respects. He was feeling 
slightly depressed as he often did after abusing a woman and the liquor was 
not improving his mood. Carlo had noticed as a young man that while he 
enjoyed drinking alcohol, it did nothing for him. He had never in his entire 
life succeeded in drinking himself into that happy mindless oblivion which 
served as a refuge from life's troubles for so many of his friends. The more 
he drank, the moodier he became. 

Another problem was the question of sex. Grimly, he glanced over at the 
battered body of Lucy who was stretched out naked on the couch, half asleep 
and half-unconscious, another woman who would never come near him again as 
long as she lived if she could possibly avoid it. Carlo liked women... liked 
them a lot, but here again he seemed to be denied the normal simple 
pleasures which other men enjoyed. Actually, he was something of a medical 
phenomenon: After an orgasm, his thick fierce cock normally stayed hard and 
firm, and he experienced no immediate sense of satisfaction, wanting only to 
do something more perverse and more extreme. 

He did not consider himself a sadist, but somehow a murderous inner rage 
always seemed to build up as he methodically fucked into a woman's helpless 
body, and he inevitably found himself becoming rougher and more violent. To 
the extent that he was capable of experiencing any emotion at all, a flicker 
of sympathy for the debauched Lucy filtered through his strange warped mind. 
Poor kid, he was thinking, she stayed with me as long as she could! After he 
had ejaculated vilely into her mouth, the Mafia "persuader" had dragged the 
girl into the office where he knew there was a spare couch. The moment he 
had thrown her onto her back, he had skewered violently into her, battering 
her loins so fiercely that she had cried out in terror and pain. He had cum 
again but it was the same as before, no satisfaction, no release, no 
happiness. 

She had begged him to let her go, but Carlo had flown into a homicidal fury, 
pounding her with his fists the way he had once beaten up people in back 
alleys on the orders of Tony's father. She had collapsed on the floor, her 
knees drawn up under her and her buttocks in the air as she groaned with 
pain, and in an instant, an evil inclination had taken possession of the 
hood. His hard merciless eyes had spotted the tiny defenseless circle of her 
anus, and he had taken her there, sodomized her, ignoring her screams for 
mercy. 

There was a trickle of blood on the couch now, and Carlo wondered vaguely 
where he had hurt her. It made no difference, he told himself. She was just 
a fucking whore and if he got really fired up some night and killed one of 
them, it would still make no difference. He took another swig of the 
whiskey, feeling it cool his throat, and then glanced at his watch. It was 
too early for what he really needed. Theoretically, he would not need 
another "treatment" until tomorrow morning. It was just his imagination, and 
he had to keep from increasing the dosage any more, or sooner or later, Tony 
was bound to find out about it. 

He had started out sniffing the stuff, just for fun, and discovered that it 
gave him a happy relaxing buzz which improved his spirits and settled his 
nerves. The next step was a needle on the weekends when he could get away 
from the gang for a day or so, rent a room, and float off into oblivion for 
a few hours. For several months, he had kidded himself, thinking that he was 
stronger and smarter than the stupid addicts on the street who let 
themselves get hooked. He could take it or leave it alone. 

Except that he couldn't leave it alone. There were too many nights like this 
one during the week when he failed to get his nerves under control, and 
every fiber in his body seemed to be screaming out for another taste of the 
needle. He knew he was risking everything, since the mob was down on drug 
users within the organization. An addict was unreliable, everyone knew that. 
An addict could decide to "shoot up" when he should be clear-headed on the 
job, and get everyone arrested. An addict could make a mistake when mixing 
the "horse" with sugar and kill off the drug users on whom the gang depended 
for its income. And an addict was a natural for the police because there 
were those telltale marks on the body which testified against him. No 
narcotics gang wanted a user in their midst. And the penalty for getting 
caught by the gang was usually more substantial than the one handed down by 
the judge. A man like Carlo knew too much and could put the finger on too 
many people. If he became unreliable, Valenti would put out a contract on 
him without a moment's hesitation. 

But he was too low, too unhappy to hold out until morning. He had to have it 
now! 

The desk had a false bottom, and after checking carefully that there was no 
one in the hall who might walk in on him, Carlo opened the secret 
compartment and extracted the needle which would make him happy again. In a 
cloth sack, there were several small envelopes, called "nickel bags" on the 
street, each containing about a gram of white powder. To complete the 
equipment he needed, Carlo picked up a bent spoon and a wax candle and then 
headed for the bathroom. Once the door was securely locked, he took a couple 
of deep breaths in a desperate effort to control the shaking of his hands, 
realizing that he was getting deeper and deeper by the day into his habit. 
For awhile, he seemed to have stabilized himself at one injection in the 
morning and a second in mid-afternoon, but his body was still screaming for 
more, and the Mafia gangster understood that he was slowly but surely 
sliding towards a four-times-a-day habit. 

But there is no choice for an addict. The trembling was getting worse and if 
withdrawal symptoms set in, everyone around him would know what was 
happening, and that would be the real end. Already he could feel that 
peculiar tightening in the gut and the beginnings of a blinding headache. If 
he could not get that needle into his arm, he would be in total agony in a 
matter of hours. There was no turning back. 

He opened two bags carefully and emptied the fine white powder into the 
spoon. Carlo had been in the business long enough to know exactly what he 
had before him. Pure heroin, naturally, would kill a man in a matter of 
seconds, and so it was necessary to cut the substance drastically usually 
with milk sugar, which was harmless in itself and looked approximately the 
same as heroin. Frequently the pushers on the street cut the product even 
further to increase their profits, but the "nickel bags" (which cost five 
dollars) had five percent heroin in them when they left Valenti's 
laboratories. Anything stronger than that was likely to cause the dreaded 
"O.D." or overdose which usually meant the end of addiction - and the 
addict. 

Carefully, Carlo lighted the candle and melted the heroin in the spoon until 
it became a whitish fluid, and then dumped it quickly into a few ounces of 
water in a glass. He used the point of the needle to mix the two liquids and 
then sterilized the needle by holding it momentarily over the candle flame. 

There were beads of sweat standing out on his forehead as he filled the 
hypodermic needle. This is how accidents happen, he told himself nervously 
as he tied a length of rubber tubing around his arm. You let it go too long, 
and then you make a mistake and give yourself a double dose. And then it's 
good-bye! 

The gangster tightened the cord around his biceps, making a kind of 
tourniquet and holding one end between his teeth while he positioned the 
needle above a vein which was standing out prominently. Carlo was scrupulous 
about changing the location of his injections regularly, using his thighs 
and legs as alternate areas to keep the needle marks from becoming too 
obvious. But if he got himself up to four injections a day, it would become 
hard to hide. He would have to be more careful - and when the heroin flowed 
through his veins, it was hard to be careful. 

The needle entered the vein and the man sighed deeply with relief. Until 
morning, his problems would be over, and like many addicts, he actually 
rather enjoyed the ritual of piercing his arm, a strange pleasure-pain, 
followed by a marvelous glow which seemed to pervade his entire system. 
Within seconds, the shaking and sweating stopped. He felt clear-headed, 
confident, relaxed. 

Quickly, he cleaned up his equipment and went back into the office to store 
it carefully in the false bottom of his desk. A sense of well-being and 
power flowed through him and he felt energetic, despite the fact that it was 
well after midnight. Scarcely glancing at the girl he had battered 
senseless, he sat down at his desk, glancing over a list of odd jobs he had 
to do. There was that call to Boston which had to be made. No point in 
delaying on checking out that new girl. If she looked reliable, they might 
be able to use her as a courier, since dressed up, she sure as hell didn't 
look like a prostitute. 

If she'd been a hooker in Boston, there were friends of his there who would 
be able to confirm her story. Before long, they would have their answer, not 
that there was really much to worry about. 

He was whistling under his breath as he spun the dial on the telephone. 

Chapter SIX 

For Valenti, this was not much of an innovation, since he had had more than 
his share of women over the past twenty years, and many of them had 
submitted, willingly or not, to the vile humiliation he was imposing on this 
young brunette. But somehow he could not recall the last time he had 
dominated anyone as young and fresh as this one, and a tremble of pure 
sensual pleasure rippled through his powerfully built body as he felt the 
softness of her tongue swipe over the pulsating gland of his cock. She was a 
strange girl, and even though he knew she was a hooker and nothing more, the 
Mafia boss had found himself treating her like someone of greater 
importance. She behaved like a real lady, whatever she had been doing on the 
streets to earn her living, and he could hardly believe she had given in so 
easily to this degenerate perversion. 

But Valenti was not a philosophical man, and he wasted no time on 
contemplating the mysteries of female sexual behavior. The woman's lips were 
at work, traveling steadily up and down the length of his massively 
throbbing cock and taking him farther and farther up into her throat with 
every passing minute. To make it even better, he gripped her head with both 
hands, pressing her cheeks inward to increase the pressure on his pummeling 
hardness while a low passionate groan broke from his lips. 

She was sucking on him like a madwoman now, lashing her tongue around the 
long stiffened shaft as if she had been performing this same bizarre act all 
her life. It seemed as if all the lustful yearnings in her entire 
passion-wracked body had suddenly been transferred to her mouth, and the 
girl's wantonly aroused figure writhed beneath him on the bed as if she were 
possessed by some invisible phantom lover. The pressure on Valenti's cock 
was growing more intense by the moment, and he muttered incoherently, one 
weird erotic fantasy after another flowing through his over-stimulated mind. 

In fact, Valenti had never intended to go all the way with his heartless 
attack on her mouth, wanting to have something left over for that tight 
little pussy he had observed earlier, but he found his will-power rapidly 
slipping away from him as her lips worked their magic on his super-sensitive 
cock. Now he was certain that he wanted to shoot a hotly searing stream of 
cum deep into the back of her throat and see her swallow it as if it were 
nectar from the gods! Nothing else would do! 

His energy renewed by this sadistic thought, Valenti began flexing his loins 
roughly back and forth, driving his lewdly rampaging cock in and out of the 
narrow rounded opening created by the girl's straining lips, his buttocks 
resting lightly on her firmly upthrust breasts. His eyes widened with 
delight as he watched her clasping lips open and shut as she gulped and 
sucked on his penis wildly, her hands instinctively rising to cup his heavy 
swinging balls between her fingers as if she were encouraging him to abuse 
her even more. 

Valenti would have liked to have gone on forever, all night if possible, but 
there was a hotness deep down in his loins which informed him clearly that 
the end was not far off. His balls were slapping ruthlessly against her chin 
as he worked himself up into an absolute lather of sexual frenzy, pounding 
into her as if he wanted to kill her, feeling his cock growing longer and 
harder as his orgasm approached. 

When it came, he knew that he could not have stopped it if he had tried. 
Like an oil well, the thick white liquid gushed up from his balls and 
sprayed wildly out the tip of his convulsing jerking penis. He seized her 
head in a vise-like grip, unnecessarily fearful that she would ruin 
everything by turning away from him at the last moment, at the same time 
plunging his wildly ejaculating cock as deeply as possible into her throat. 

But the girl was making no attempt to avoid this direly humiliating fate. 
Instead, hums and mewls of passionately masochistic acceptance rumbled deep 
in her throat as the searing liquid poured endlessly into her. Her mouth 
worked unceasingly, choking down the hot sticky semen as he pumped it 
ruthlessly into her, until his body was suddenly empty and drained. Valenti 
collapsed over the girl, his stomach resting on her forehead, momentarily 
exhausted, while she continued to suck and nibble on his slowly deflating 
penis, her tongue busily cleaning up every last drop of the lust-inspiring 
white substance he had geysered into her. 

The insatiable brunette seemed oblivious to the fact that it was over, 
sucking away as fervently as ever despite the fact that his cock was 
gradually softening and decreasing in size. Her hips were still grinding 
hungrily down into the mattress, and for a moment Valenti regretted that he 
had not bothered to satisfy her. But that cum had been too good to have 
missed for anything in the world. 

Yet within a matter of minutes, something strange began to happen. Despite 
the fact that he had just enjoyed the most powerful orgasm he could ever 
remember, Valenti's super-stimulated cock began to jerk and quiver once 
again as she munched on him persistently. He could hardly believe what he 
was feeling, but it was clear that she was trying to arouse him all over 
again. And she was going to get away with it! 

His cock began to thicken as she nursed it back into rigidity and life, 
biting and licking it tenderly as the man felt the fires of lust slowly 
being rekindled in his loins. Now he wanted it again, and he could feel the 
tiny bullet-like nipples on her breasts pressing urgently into his thighs, 
begging him to do what needed to be done. When his masculinity was restored 
to its full power, the drunken young woman sighed tiredly and slowly 
withdrew the glisteningly hard object from her mouth, a long slender strand 
of cum still connecting her moist lips to the pulsating head of his cock. 

Her eyes opened at last and she looked at him directly, without the 
slightest trace of fear or shame. For an instant she hesitated, obviously 
unsure of what she should say, but when the words finally came out, there 
was no mistaking the urgency of what she was begging him for. 

"Please... I need it so bad... fuck me, please." 

Valenti was surprised, but he had stayed alive all these years by being 
quick to respond to new situations, and he reacted to this one with 
alacrity. Moving fast, he rearranged his athlete's body, sliding between her 
willingly outstretched thighs and allowing the hardness of his chest to rest 
directly on the full cushioning mounds of her breasts, so long neglected. 
His hands probed down between her legs as he took his hard 
saliva-and-cum-moistened cock between his fingers and led its pulsing shaft 
directly to the hungrily clasping portals of her hot little cunt. 

She was more than ready, and Valenti could feel in a moment that her thighs 
and pussy were soaked with the orgiastic fluids flowing freely from inside 
her over-excited body. Using the blunt tip of his cock, the man carefully 
divided the wet brown hairs of her pussy, pushing quickly past the eager 
outer lips. Deciding to finish it in one clean stroke, he gathered his knees 
under him, and stormed into her, worming his thick palpitating cock all the 
way home to the delicate interior flesh of her craving vagina. There was not 
the slightest kind of resistance; the girl was so desperately turned on that 
her cunt expanded easily and gratefully to accept the bloated size of his 
cock. 

"Oooooohhh," she moaned in total ecstasy as he ploughed into her. 

But she was tight, beautifully tight, and he could feel the elastic walls of 
her vaginal interior pressing maddeningly in on him from all sides, forcing 
him to groan in ecstasy. The girl seemed to be half out of her mind as he 
slowly began fucking in and out of her with long smooth strokes, putting his 
whole body into each one. Her arms wrapped instinctively around his neck and 
her hips bobbed and rotated, frantically answering each of his lustful 
thrusts with a counter-thrust up, to meet him. 

"Oh God, do it, do it!" she pleaded, the words tumbling irrationally out of 
the mouth he had abused only a few moments before. "Fuck me harder!" 

Valenti obeyed, surging into her energetically with long penetrating strokes 
which ploughed deeper and deeper up into her belly as she flowered happily 
open before him. The feeling was exquisite, and a sense of joy flooded 
through him; at last he had found the perfect lay. He promised himself he 
was going to have some real fun with this chick, and even thought of taking 
her off to Mexico where no one would know them, and they could rent a 
cottage by the sea and fuck to their heart's content. 

Nor was there any doubt in Valenti's mind that she was as excited as he was. 
The young woman's body was twitching and contorting abandonedly as if she 
were receiving electroshock treatment, and her face was a sensual mask of 
uninhibited passion. A light fragrant layer of perspiration had broken over 
her skin and her lips were pulled savagely back over her white teeth as she 
bucked and heaved beneath the man. She was racing wildly toward fulfillment, 
and it was obvious that nothing could stop her now. 

"Aaaaaaahhhh!" she shrieked, a strange and almost agonizing new feeling 
swarming over her body as the sensation built up deep in the pit of her 
stomach and began radiating out through every muscle in her body. 

Valenti realized she was cumming, and he threw everything he had into it, 
fucking her with savage intensity as he slapped his sinewy hands underneath 
her churning buttocks, lifting the girl's ass-cheeks completely off the bed. 
The man wanted this to be a fuck she would remember to the end of her days, 
and he slaved over her like a madman, feeling her cunt flower open to 
receive him and the orgiastic juices from deep in her body come gushing out 
around his cock. 

Her normally calm, serene face was barely recognizable now in her distorting 
passion, as she ground out the fury of her orgasm, gasping and groaning like 
some wild creature, her legs splayed out obscenely wide. Valenti's bedroom 
resounded with the salaciously wet smacking noises of flesh colliding with 
flesh as they clawed at each other with brutal jungle intensity. Valenti 
tried to hold out a little longer, but the pressure was too much. Despite 
the fact that he had enjoyed a soul-wracking climax only a few minutes 
before, he felt the torrent sweep over him again, this time more powerfully 
than ever, and he fucked into her with all the fury in his body, spewing his 
lewdly spurting cum far up into her clasping cunt as she moaned out her own 
orgasm. 

When it was over, they lay quietly without moving, his slowly deflating 
instrument still buried deep up in her totally satisfied vagina. The drunken 
girl seemed to be crying silently, but Valenti was too happy to pay much 
attention and he fell asleep where he was, his head cradled on the softness 
of her breasts. 



* * * * * 

Carlo lowered the phone slowly onto the receiver, trying to decide exactly 
what his next steps would be. It was time to proceed very carefully, because 
he had heard the commotion coming from the boss's bedroom and realized that 
Valenti was in there giving it to the new girl with a vengeance. It would 
not be the moment to dash in asking a lot of questions. 

Yet there were some questions that he wanted to ask. The boys in Boston had 
never heard of her, and it was supposed to be impossible for a girl to work 
the streets in Boston without paying off the "family". What did this mean? 
That she was lying about having been a hooker in Boston? Why would anyone 
lie about such a thing? It made no sense. 

Carlo's head felt clear and good, and he cautioned himself against being so 
cheerful that he could not judge things properly. That was the bad thing 
about heroin: you felt so fine when you had a full load on, that it was 
difficult to see danger when it came. No, it was not safe to go bursting 
into Tony's bedroom with a lot of accusations he could not prove. But there 
was nothing to prevent him from having a quiet look around. 

The gang's second-in-command searched through the top drawer of his desk 
until he found the key to Dolly's room. In the back of his mind as he 
descended the stairs, was the uneasy notion that the girl could possibly 
turn out to be a police spy. And then what did they do? She would have to be 
eliminated, and fast, that much was obvious, but there were more important 
questions. Would they be forced to change their headquarters? Or go 
underground for awhile? The thought made Carlo nervous despite the 
confidence-building heroin in his veins. With the real estate front to 
protect them, the gang could lead reasonably normal lives working roughly 
normal business hours, and he could always find the time he needed to duck 
into a bathroom for a fix. But if they had to go on the run, they would be 
forced together for long periods of time under rough conditions and his 
secret would be difficult to hide. 

The new girl's door yielded to the key, and Carlo stepped in and looked 
carefully around him. This room had known many occupants since Tony Valenti 
regularly used it for his current lady friend. Usually there were cigarette 
butts and feminine underwear scattered around, but the new girl seemed to be 
the type who picked up after herself, a change from most of Tony's 
"receptionists". The thug moved quickly to the closet and examined the 
clothing she had brought with her. The dresses were all smart, moderately 
expensive, and rather sexy, precisely the kind of thing one would expect to 
find in a hooker's wardrobe. He glanced shrewdly at the labels and found 
that the girl had acquired most of her dresses at Filene's and Jordan Marsh, 
both well-known stores in the Boston area. 

He inspected the medicine cabinet, finding aspirin and birth control pills 
from a pharmacy in Boston - everything all right so far. On the stand next 
to the bed, he glanced casually at a book of adolescent love stories, an 
alarm clock and a small transistor radio. Apparently the new girl liked a 
bit of music before dozing off to sleep at night. Carlo was unfamiliar with 
the brand of the radio and he picked it up for closer examination, acting 
out of mere curiosity. 

It seemed like a normal portable, but the manufacturer's name was nowhere 
visible, nor could he determine where the radio opened to admit batteries - 
plus the antenna seemed abnormally long for such a small instrument. Damn 
Japanese never will learn how to build stuff that looks like it oughta, he 
decided, replacing the radio next to the bed. 

He was still perplexed as he left the room, locking the door carefully 
behind him. Everything about the girl seemed to be in order, except for the 
fact that she somehow never acted quite like a hooker ought to act. And 
nobody in Boston ever heard of her, even though she had obviously spent some 
time there. On the other hand, maybe the "family" up in Boston was getting 
careless. It was perfectly possible that this new chick had worked the 
streets in some out-of-the-way section of town, possibly on her own, and 
nobody had ever noticed her. 

Or was it perfectly possible? Girls who looked like she did tended to be 
noticed, particularly if they're walking the streets selling their ass. Or 
did she have an apartment somewhere and put out for businessmen on their 
lunch hours? There were thousands of variations to the whore's game, and 
even the "family" could not be expected to keep up with all of them. 

Carlo took a deep breath at the bottom of the stairs, and then climbed 
slowly back up to his office, deciding to bide his time and watch the new 
girl closely before saying anything to Tony. Making a mistake about a thing 
like this could be unpleasant, no matter which way the mistake was made. 



* * * * * 

"Hi, glad you stopped by, Bill," called Ludditski and Franklyn wondered what 
could possibly have happened to put the normally dour narcotics squad leader 
in such a cheerful mood. 

"You've got good news, I hope?" he inquired. 

"Sure do. Shut the door and I'll tell you all about it." 

Captain Bill Franklyn complied with this sensible instruction and settled 
himself in the easy chair to one side of Ludditski's desk, telling himself 
that he was about ready for some good news. It had been almost two months 
since he had heard a word from Dolly, and he knew that she had been working 
in Valenti's business for at least two weeks. He was finding that he missed 
her a lot worse than he could ever have dreamed, and the thought of what she 
might be going through kept him awake nights. Of course he could not admit 
it to anyone, but he hated Ludditski's guts for having placed her in this 
danger. Let someone else make war on organized crime, he wanted his woman 
back! 

"All right, shoot!" he said shortly, staring at the gloating face of the 
other captain. 

"It looks like our lady lieutenant has done her job. We got a transmission 
from her two days ago informing us that several kilos of heroin are coming 
across the country by car. Valenti has apparently gone out to Sacramento to 
meet the shipment... well, we're not sure where he is, but he's due to come 
back tonight with the stuff. As soon as he returns to his office, we move. 
I've got a force of one hundred and twenty men assigned to me for the 
operation." 

"And Dolly... I mean Lieutenant Wilkinson?" 

"She's been ordered to stay put until we make the bust. If she tries to run 
for it now, she could screw up the whole deal." 

"Suppose Valenti and his boys start shooting and she catches a bullet?" 
demanded Franklyn, happy that his torment was soon to be over, but knowing 
that the real danger still lay ahead of them. 

"That's a chance we have to take," snapped Ludditski, who would cheerfully 
have sacrificed half a dozen female lieutenants for the prize of landing 
Valenti and his gang. "But with an arresting force of over a hundred men, it 
would be stupid of Valenti to put up any resistance, and we know he isn't 
stupid. Plus, Dolly will have the advantage of knowing that the raid is 
about to take place and she can find a hole to hide in until it's over." 

"Thank God," breathed Franklyn. "I'll be coming along, naturally." 

"Naturally you will not be coming along," replied Ludditski sharply. "All 
I'd need is to have some big dramatic scene between you and that bosomy 
lieutenant, and you'd ruin her cover. If the gang finds out who blew the 
whistle on them, they'll hunt her to the ends of the earth. For Christ 
sakes, man, this is the Mafia, not the Rotary Club! We'll arrest Wilkinson 
on another Article twenty-nine and send her to the woman's reformatory for a 
couple of weeks, then bring her to trial for a quick conviction and a 
suspended sentence. With luck, we can have her back to you by some time next 
month, and she'll be restricted to office work for a year, with an armed 
escort home every night." 

Franklyn digested this barrage in silence for a moment, wishing heartily he 
had somehow found a way to block this assignment. And what would Dolly be 
like when Ludditski finally surrendered her? She had been posing as a 
prostitute all this time. Had she been behaving like a whore? Going to bed 
with Valenti and his gang? It was difficult to imagine the delicate, 
sensitive, Dolly turning into a slut overnight merely because Ludditski had 
given her orders, but somehow she must have convinced these people that she 
was reliable. 

"Suppose something goes wrong?" he muttered heavily. 

"The lieutenant has a transmitter disguised as a portable radio. If she 
screams for help, we are prepared to make the raid anytime, even now for 
example. I have fifty men on permanent, twenty-four hour call, and we could 
move in, in fifteen minutes." 

"And if she can't get to the transmitter?" 

"If she can't, then she has to play it by ear, Bill, because you can't 
predict everything in this kind of operation. But we've gone to enormous 
lengths to protect her cover. Her clothing and personal stuff was all 
shipped in from Boston which is where she's supposed to be from, and she 
received a solid month of the most intensive training we could give her. 
And, she's a smart girl." 

"But, how could she have managed to get her hands on that kind of 
information? Certainly Valenti isn't going to trust her after two short 
weeks?" 

"I told you before that Valenti is a fool for good-looking women. She 
probably has him wrapped around her baby finger by now." 

"Then that means she's..." Franklyn could not bring himself to finish the 
sentence. 

"Sleeping with him? Well, I don't imagine it's her cooking, Bill, do you?" 

Chapter SEVEN 

Dolly sat uncomfortably at her desk in the real estate office, resisting the 
temptation to look at her watch every two minutes. For the young police 
lieutenant, time seemed to be down on its hands and knees crawling, and she 
wondered if she could get through the rest of the day without losing her 
mind. 

She tried to comfort herself with the thought that it had been a dirty, 
thankless job, which she had done because someone had, had to do it, 
reasoning that a police officer could not expect to spend his or her life 
seated comfortably behind a desk somewhere waiting for retirement and 
pension benefits. The criminal element in society had become very 
sophisticated and it was up to the law enforcement agencies to react in the 
same way. Valenti would have jumped at the chance to plant a spy in 
Ludditski's office and. were Captain Marvin Ludditski a fool for women, it 
would be a girl very much like her. 

But Ludditski was only passionate about narcotics, and Tony Valenti had all 
the human weaknesses. The first precinct captain had exploited them. 

But the cold, mechanical Ludditski would never understand what it could 
possibly mean to a woman to sleep night after night by the side of a man she 
intended to send to prison. It made very little difference that Valenti was 
an evil man and the business he operated involved the destruction of 
peoples' lives; in bed, he was tender, gentle, loving. Every night for two 
weeks now, he had invited her up to his room and every night she had gone, 
trembling with anticipation. And every night he had whipped her into a 
frenzy of excitement which lasted until morning. Was she in love with him? 
The question was meaningless. All she knew was that she was desperately 
unhappy and she wanted this nightmare to end as soon as possible. She wanted 
to go back to Bill Franklyn - safe, sane, trustworthy Bill Franklyn - and 
marry him as fast as they could get a license. 

The fact that another man, a criminal in fact, had taught her how to behave 
in bed would never be forgotten, of course, nor could she expect Bill not to 
notice the difference in her. But this too, seemed to be part of the price 
she was being asked to pay. 

By tonight, it would all be over. In a way, she was surprised that it had 
all come to a head so quickly, since Ludditski had told her to expect to 
wait several months before they trusted her sufficiently to let her have 
access to their secrets. But Valenti was a fool over women and Carlo... 
Carlo was an extremely strange man who sometimes acted like a brutal monster 
of criminal efficiency and sometimes seemed positively weak and vulnerable, 
as if he were suffering from some cancerous illness. 

She had been in bed last night with Tony, her eyes closed but only half 
asleep, when she had heard the door open and someone enter. She had realized 
without opening her eyes that the first light of morning was flooding into 
the room and furthermore that her full naked breasts were exposed to 
whomever had invaded the bedroom, but instinctively, she had remained in the 
same position, her eyes shut, pretending to be sound asleep. 

"Hey, we got the word on the shipment," Carlo's soft voice had broken the 
silence. 

"All right, when and where do we meet him?" 

There had been a moment's pause, and Dolly had guessed that Carlo was 
worried about the possibility of her overhearing what was being said. 

"She asleep? Why don't you come into the office?" 

"Buddy, when I finish with 'em, they're not asleep, they're unconscious!" 
Tony Valenti had grinned at his second-in-command. "Come on, I wanna get 
some shuteye if I've got to drive halfway across the state." 

"Okay, you meet him at the restaurant in Sacramento for lunch. The usual 
place. He's got three kilos." 

"Good," Tony had replied sleepily, settling back down in the bed. "Get me 
some money and tell the lab boys to come up here tonight to pick it up as 
soon as I get back." 

She had gone on pretending to be asleep as Carlo backed out of the bedroom. 
Tony had dozed off again and reawakened around nine. He had made love to her 
quietly and then left without a word of explanation. 

It had been a morning of tremendous nervous tension until she had been able 
to get alone in the bathroom, turn on the shower and cover the sound of her 
voice, and send a brief summary of what had happened to the shortwave center 
at the first precinct. The officer-in-charge had told her to attempt to find 
out the name of Valenti's contact in Sacramento, but otherwise to lay low 
until the bust, then he had broken off communication. 

Dolly gave in and glanced at her watch, after first assuring herself that 
"Uncle" was nodding over his desk, half asleep. It was two o'clock. She had 
the rest of today to live through somehow and then it would be over. The 
idea of seeing the police charging into the real estate office with drawn 
guns terrified her, and she knew that they would have to arrest her and 
treat her roughly in order to protect her from Mafia reprisals later. But 
she knew that they would always suspect her - that she would never again be 
able to sleep soundly and without fear. 

The door at the top of the stairs opened, and Carlo appeared, startling her 
since she had thought that the building was empty except for herself and 
"Uncle". He ignored her as he walked by her desk and headed for the street, 
and she remarked that he looked ill, haggard and weak, as if he were 
suffering from a terrible hangover. His hands seemed to be shaking and she 
acutely observed that he had neglected to lock the door at the top of the 
stairs. This was strange, since the door was always kept locked, and even 
she was invited to the second floor only when she accompanied Tony into his 
bedroom. In the morning, he escorted her out again and the door was closed 
behind her. 

A few minutes passed, and "Uncle" woke up, stretched, and drank something 
from a bottle he kept concealed in his desk. 

"Guess I'll get something to eat," he muttered, hobbling into the 
receptionist's office where she worked. "You been out yet?" 

"I've eaten," she told him, realizing that if he left, she would be alone. 
Here was the chance to check Carlo's office! 

It was also the chance to get herself killed. If Carlo came back 
unexpectedly, she could be trapped on the second floor with no easy 
explanation of what she was doing there. On the other hand, if she could 
find out who Tony was meeting in Sacramento, headquarters would have the 
opportunity to smash a nation-wide ring as well as a local gang. But did she 
dare take the chance? 



* * * * * 

Carlo reached down behind the back seat of his car and extracted the 
hypodermic needle, together with a couple of nickel bags. It was not the 
safest place in the world to shoot up, but he knew he was too far gone to 
make it all the way back upstairs to the bathroom and the car was parked in 
a narrow alley where he could see anyone approaching him. 

But still it was taking a chance, and he thought of how foolish it would be 
to get himself picked up by some ordinary cop pounding a beat when he was in 
the business of successfully administering a million-dollars-a-year 
narcotics racket. But his hands were shaking so badly by now that he could 
barely hold the needle steady and he dared not wait a moment longer. The 
point plunged into his arm and the glow spread immediately, making 
everything seem all right again. He was in charge now, until Tony came back, 
and he needed to keep his head clear until they got this next deal taken 
care of. Then, maybe, he would have the time to go to a doctor and see if he 
couldn't do something about this habit. There were new drugs and new 
treatments he had heard about. Something had to be done because he couldn't 
go on like this indefinitely. 

Carlo started to feel his strength flowing back to him as he reentered the 
real estate office, but as he passed the receptionist's office, he suddenly 
realized that the new girl was not at her desk. Nor was "Uncle", who was 
supposed to be keeping an eye on her. And the worst shock of all came when 
he glanced up the staircase and discovered that he had failed to lock the 
door behind him. 

Moving quietly, he crept up the stairs, remembering that one of his men was 
sleeping in his room. Frank was a light sleeper and, had the receptionist 
decided to have a look around, he might have heard her. But there was no 
sound anywhere, and he slid down the aisle to his office, where the gang's 
records were kept, trying to remember if he had put the files back into the 
safe or not. 

He paused at the door which was partially open and carefully peaked in. She 
was there, just as he had feared, bent over his desk and scrutinizing every 
piece of paper she could find. All the secrets of the group were spread out 
before her! She obviously wasn't just browsing through their papers out of 
idle curiosity; she was studying them rapidly and expertly, plainly looking 
for something. She was a spy! 

The girl and the boss were bedmates, so Carlo decided that it would be wise 
to have a witness before he made any accusations, so he tiptoed back down 
the hallway, slipping into Frank's room quickly, and without knocking. The 
thug awoke promptly, his hand reaching instinctively for his revolver, but 
Carlo put his finger to his lips ordering him not to make a sound. Silently, 
the two men moved back down the hallway and Carlo stepped aside to let the 
other man see what was going on in the office. With one look, the other man 
understood everything, glancing back at Carlo and nodding. 

All things considered, the girl kept her cool fairly well when the two men 
walked into the room. She jumped, naturally, but somehow she managed a smile 
and a quick remark. 

"Where do you guys hide your cigarettes?" she inquired hastily. "I've been 
looking all over the place." 

"Oh you have?" the scar-faced thug snapped back at her bitterly. "And didn't 
you see this carton over here?" 

"Oh! How silly of me!" 

"It certainly was, baby," agreed Frank. "What'll we do with her, Carlo?" 

"We can't get rid of her until the boss gets back," decided the 
second-in-command. "Who sent you, baby? Another family or Uncle Marvin?" 

"Why... I don't know what you mean," she gasped, backing away from the two 
men in terror as they advanced upon her. "I just wanted a cigarette and..." 

"Baby, you can take that shit and shove it..." Carlo continued menacingly, 
but the other man suddenly put a hand on his arm. 

"Hey Carlo, before we mess'er all up, I been hankering to have a go at this 
little chick. It doesn't look like the boss is gonna want to have much to do 
with'er any more... do you know what I mean?" 

Carlo did. There was something about a beautiful woman in absolute terror 
for her life which roused the sadist in him, and he noticed as Frank spoke, 
that his cock was twitching powerfully in his pants. Tony would hardly 
object once he found out what she had been up to, and after they finished 
interrogating her, she might not look good enough to fuck. He had been 
nursing a yen for this big-breasted creature since the moment he picked her 
up in the car that day in front of the bar. This might be his last chance 
and it would reinforce his position with the gang if he gave the boys a 
little treat. If something happened someday between him and Tony, a little 
popularity among the troops might save his life... 

Dolly glanced desperately from one man to the other, failing to find the 
slightest hint of mercy in either face. Frank was a thin, athletic young 
man, whom she had seen laughing cruelly and sensuously at the party a couple 
of weeks ago. He was the youngest among the gang members and probably 
anxious to prove to the others how tough he was. And she knew automatically 
that there was nothing to be expected from Carlo in the way of pity. They 
wouldn't dare kill her until Tony came back, and the raid was set to take 
place the moment the gang leader walked in the door, but it was going to be 
close, very close. In the meantime, they would feel free to do anything they 
felt like doing with her helpless young body, since it was assumed that her 
days as Valenti's mistress were over. Nor were they likely to be 
particularly gentle... Carlo was unfastening his belt and advancing on her, 
and things did not look good. 

"Okay, little friend, let's assume you came up here looking for a 
cigarette," Carlo drawled, a sinister smile stealing across his hard 
merciless face. "How about some fun and games while we're waiting for Tony 
to get back and we'll see if he believes that little story?" The belt 
flickered out viciously, stinging one of the girl's full tapered thighs, and 
she cried out with the unexpected pain, trying to back farther away from the 
two thugs and finding that she was already in a corner. 

"The other day I came in when you were sleeping and I saw the nicest pair of 
tits I've ever seen," Carlo continued lewdly. "Why don't you show 'em to my 
friend Frank here? You like tits don't ya Frank?" 

"You bet your sweet ass," rumbled the other man darkly. 

"Ah, the sweet ass! One thing at a time, Frankie. Now, baby, are you gonna 
show my friend here those nice big tits of yours, or do I have to use this 
belt again?" 

The cornered policewoman shook her head in an effort to clear her mind, 
deciding that while there was life there was still hope. Carlo's hand rose 
menacingly, and her fingers flew quickly to the buttons on her blouse. So 
they wanted to see her breasts? So what, she had actually been expecting a 
bullet in the back of the head! She undid the buttons, knowing that this was 
only a prelude to sexual abuse of some kind, but what could they possibly do 
to her that Tony had not already done? If she could only hold out until this 
evening... but they could do a lot between now and tonight! 

"Ah man, ain't that sweet!" growled the man called Frank lasciviously as the 
trembling girl drew the blouse down off her shoulders and dropped it to the 
floor. "Don't stop there, baby, we wanna see it all!" 

Dolly shrugged, knowing that this was inevitable, but hating the humiliation 
of stripping her quivering body naked, in front of these two ruthless men, 
either one of them quite capable of putting a pistol to her head and blowing 
her brains out. She unfastened her skirt and stepped quickly out of it, 
deciding that it was useless to anger them by offering any resistance to 
their orders. Her only hope of staying alive was keeping her wits about her. 
There was no point in inviting them to beat her senseless when they were 
going to get what they wanted anyway. 

"The rest, baby," commanded Carlo stepping close to her with the whip. 
"Don't get us mad, now!" 

A shudder running through her lust-arousing form, the girl obeyed, reaching 
behind her back with trembling hands to undo the snap on her brassiere and 
then sliding the frail nylon panties down over her smooth flanks. She was 
naked, and she closed her eyes, waiting for the next depraved order. 
Whatever it was, she would have to obey. She had run out of options! 

The belt in Carlo's hand sailed through the air, catching her cruelly on the 
breasts, and she cried out in pain as the cold leather creased the tender 
skin around her nipples. 

"Down on your knees, bitch!" he snarled and she dropped quickly to the 
floor, seeing nothing but violent lust and hatred in his face. This was a 
man who enjoyed torture, she sensed, and she realized that she was not 
likely to be too strong if they decided to try to make her talk. She would 
hold out as long as she could, but in the end she guessed that she was 
probably not destined to be very brave. 

But the two men were not in the mood for interrogations at the moment. They 
wanted sex; business could come later. 

"Now crawl over here, sweetie," said Frank, stepping forward for the first 
time and giving orders. "I want a little action from those luscious lips of 
yours." 

Dolly gagged inwardly at the thought of what he was going to do to her, but 
Carlo was standing by with the belt, and there was no point in asking for 
more pain. There would be enough of that to come as it was, and she had to 
concentrate on staying alive for another four or five hours at least. After 
that, the situation would be out of her hands. She crawled, seeing the man 
unfasten the front of his pants as she approached him. 

"Come on, sweetie, get it out. There's a present in there for you," he 
grinned at her obscenely as she knelt slavishly before him, her shoulders 
quivering with fear. She knew what she had to do, but somehow, she hesitated 
a fraction of a second, staring straight ahead at the man's unzipped fly. 

"Aaaaaagggggghhhhh!" The belt sailed through the air again, catching her on 
her naked shoulders, reminding her that she was not allowed to delay. Tears 
streaming over her cheeks, she raised her hands and opened the man's pants, 
finding that his jerking tapered penis was already hard and ready for 
action. Blushing with the humiliation of what she was being forced to do, 
she wrapped her trembling fingers around the thick rigid shaft and clumsily 
withdrew it from his pants, staring at it dumbly as it waved in her face. 

"Let's go, baby, I'm gonna cum in mid-air if you don't get a move on it!" 

The man was too impatient to wait for her to obey. Slapping his hands to her 
head, he worked his thumbs in from either side, forcing her mouth open as a 
violent sob raced through her body. She had sucked a penis before, of 
course, with Tony Valenti, but now it was different. This time she was 
kneeling naked on the floor in the callous presence of two cold-blooded 
killers and there was nothing remotely romantic about it. They were going to 
rape her mouth ruthlessly and cruelly and then... who knew? 

She opened her eyes and saw the man peeling back the thick foreskin of his 
cock, exposing the broad moist glans poised only an inch or two from her 
trembling lips. At least from this position, his penis seemed abnormally 
long, and she felt sure he was going to choke her to death on that massive 
object. Certainly, there was nothing about him which could lead her to hope 
he would be gentle. 

She was given no more time to contemplate the difficulties of her position. 
Frank moved suddenly, flicking his hips brutally forward and burying his 
thick, lurching instrument into the unnatural sanctuary of her mouth while 
Carlo calmly pulled up a chair as if this were a circus performance and he 
were a spectator. 

Tears of humiliation streamed down her cheeks as she let the thick pole of 
cock-flesh ram forward along the smoothly moist surface of her tongue, 
causing her to gag and choke as the man probed inside of her mouth. 

"Either you start sucking, baby, or I start making you hurt," she heard him 
threatening, and fear overwhelmed the revulsion she was feeling. She obeyed, 
tightening her lips firmly around the hard, throbbing shaft of his cock 
until she had formed a perfect oral seal. She could feel the massive tip of 
his organ sliding obscenely back and forth on the surface of her tongue, 
secreting tiny droplets of lubricating fluid to mix with the saliva already 
accumulating inside her mouth. 

The man began to undulate his hips as Carlo chuckled cruelly, occasionally 
tapping her bare buttocks with the belt just to remind her that he was there 
and watching. The eyes of the second-in-command were feasting on her 
helpless naked flesh as the girl submissively allowed her mouth to be 
violated, and he found that he could not keep his hands off her. So this was 
the chick the boss had been enjoying every night for the past two weeks! She 
turns out to be nothing but a spy! There was a remote possibility she had 
been sent by another "family", but the odds were that she was a cop. They 
should have paid more attention to her refined accent, her way of walking 
and holding a drink, the little things which ought to have told them she was 
not what she claimed to be. 

Well, Carlo decided, he would get the whole truth out of her fast enough! As 
soon as Frank finished softening her up, he had his special method of making 
women talk. He would have the truth out of her in no time. 

The exposed policewoman could feel Carlo's fingers roaming lewdly over her 
body as Frank's enormous cock sawed lasciviously in and out of her cruelly 
stretched mouth, and she knew that Carlo was going to be next in line. 
Before her, she could see nothing but the tufts of black pubic hair and 
Frank's flat, muscular stomach and she groaned miserably, dark despair 
slowly taking possession of her mind. 

"Come on, baby, put some skin into it," Frank commanded from somewhere high 
above her, and she responded, realizing that she might as well get it over 
with as soon as possible. The man's sinewy hands were tugging on her hair 
and she knew he was in a position to hurt her badly whenever he wished. 
Taking a deep breath, the captive girl began sucking on him as hard as she 
could, moving her tongue delicately around the moist hardened tip of the 
man's rigid cock, and teasing the tiny slit in his glans until she could 
feel him quivering with the mounting excitement. She knew that the 
instrument she held obscenely between her fearfully working lips could 
explode furiously at any moment, flooding her mouth with his hot sticky cum, 
but it no longer mattered how they tortured and humiliated her. The 
important thing was to stay alive. Perhaps if she pleased them by doing 
precisely what they asked of her, they would be less cruel... but this was a 
vain, useless hope and she knew it. 

There was nothing else to do, and she moved her head slavishly up and down 
over the impaling cock-shaft, sucking on him wildly as if he were the man 
she loved best in the world instead of an almost-complete stranger. Frank 
groaned in obvious passion as the woman kneeling below him struggled to suck 
the thick, milky semen from his body into hers, feeling her tongue dart 
insistently up and down the smoothly glistening length of his stiffened 
penis. Showering her with the vilest obscenities that came floating into his 
head, he watched delightedly as his stout thick cock wormed its way up past 
the tightly clasped elastic ring of her lips and into the moist depths of 
her throat. 

Meanwhile Carlo was losing control of himself, kneeling beside the tormented 
girl and running his hands lustfully over the exposed curves of her 
helplessly voluptuous body. Soon, touching her with his cruelly prying 
fingers was no longer enough, and he dropped down behind her, passing his 
lips hungrily over the tempting mounds of her buttocks and the small of her 
back while his hands stole up between her legs to torment the tiny hidden 
bud of her clitoris. 

Dolly groaned thickly as she felt this new degrading assault, the saliva in 
her mouth mixing with the seminal emissions from Frank's pillaging cock 
threatening to choke her. She swallowed, caught her breath, and sucked on as 
hard as she could, wanting desperately to be finished with the subordinate 
before Tony's top man got completely out of hand and launched his own 
obscene attack. 

Already Carlo's hand was rummaging around freely between her slightly spread 
thighs, tormenting the soft delicate flesh of her pussy-lips and pressing 
her buttocks farther and farther apart as if he wanted to tear her in two. 
But her poor abused vaginal crevice did not seem to be the main focus of his 
interest, and Dolly's mind nearly went into orbit as she felt him dip his 
middle finger into... into the moistness of her cunt and then immediately 
transfer it to the tight little circle of her anus. Carlo was mumbling 
savagely under his breath, half out of his mind from the combined effects of 
the drug in his bloodstream and the unexpected windfall of having the boss' 
mistress at his disposal. 

His finger was thoroughly moistened with the natural juices from her vagina, 
and he circled it tormentingly around the tiny virginal opening of her anus. 
Dolly wiggled miserably, her mind filling with confusion and fear. What did 
this mean? What did he want of her? Then suddenly, he thrust, sinking his 
merciless middle finger up into her as far as the first knuckle. 

"Aaagghhh," she groaned, her voice muffled by the presence of the obscenely 
swollen cock in her mouth, her body jerking forward as the skewering finger 
dug into her even more. At the same moment, Frank thrust into her even more 
deeply and her hands flew up to seize his pounding cock by the shaft in an 
effort to keep him from choking her to death. 

"That's right, chick," he panted at her hoarsely, his body going wild with 
perverse delight as the added pressure of her hands heightened his pleasure. 
"Hang on to it for me!" 

Things were becoming much too complicated for her, and the young police 
lieutenant's mind became confused at this point. There was the unaccustomed 
pain as Carlo pushed fiercely up into her tormented anus, adding a second 
finger to the first and twisting to expand the narrow, cruelly stretched 
opening. But Frank's wildly pummeling cock soon managed to distract her from 
the horrors Carlo was working between her legs, for she could feel the 
subordinate's merciless thick, cock throbbing and quivering frantically 
against the eagerly licking surface of her tongue as if it were preparing to 
explode at any moment. The man seemed to be losing his mind as his orgasmic 
spasm approached, and his fingers wound torturously into her long blonde 
hair, to pull his loins closer and closer to her violated face. He was 
nearly ready to cum into her throat. Dolly realized, and there was nothing 
she could do but take it. 

She cooperated willingly in her own defilement, wanting more than anything 
else to get it over with. Maybe even death would be preferable to being 
broken down into an animal, to being degraded beyond belief like this. She 
did her best to ignore the fact that Carlo was still sawing lecherously at 
the nether entrance to her body, trying to concentrate her energies on 
Frank. A second later, the man groaned as his cock began jerking savagely 
back and forth, fiery jets of cum spewing out of him and spraying deep up 
into her throat. The girl choked as her mouth filled rapidly with the 
lust-arousing liquid, her throat working frantically as she was faced with 
the depraved choice of swallowing his semen or choking on it. Her lips 
closed tightly around his wildly ejaculating cock, and she sucked him like a 
madwoman, trying to drain him completely of his seed so that he would have 
none left to inspire him to attack her again. 

His climax seemed to go on for an eternity until Frank's sputtering penis 
gave one final, cataclysmic spurt and then began slowly to deflate. Thinking 
she was finished, Dolly allowed the wetly drooping penis to fall from her 
exhausted lips, using her tongue to lick away the lewd traces of cum which 
still clung to her mouth and chin. Carlo yanked his offending fingers free 
of her anus, his voice hard and menacing as he spoke. 

"You ain't finished yet, baby. Lick him clean!" 

There was no resistance left anywhere in her and the girl hurried to obey, 
knowing that Carlo was in a position to make her do whatever he wanted. She 
leaned forward, taking Frank's limp, glistening cock in her hands and 
tenderly licking away the last traces of his milky semen, her tongue darting 
into all the tiny crevices on the man's languidly convulsing tool. She had 
decided to make one last attempt at convincing them she was not a spy for 
anyone, and as soon as Frank stepped away from her to tuck his satisfied 
cock back into his pants, she turned around on her knees to face Carlo. 

"Please..." she stammered unhappily. "You've got to listen to me..." 

"I'm listening," replied Carlo, seizing her shoulders with his hands and 
forcing her down on her elbows so that her ripely succulent breasts were 
brushing against the cold floor of the office. "You were going to tell me 
who you really work for?" 

"No... no, I just wanted to explain... I was looking for a cigarette and..." 

But the second-in-command did not seem to be listening. Frank had dropped to 
his knees in front of her, pinning her shoulders to the floor while her 
buttocks waved ridiculously in the air since her knees were still bent under 
her. Carlo was maneuvering around her, his hands once again reaching for the 
tempting twin cheeks of her buttocks. Once more his hand invaded her loins, 
his finger digging persistently up between her widely spread half-moons. The 
girl jerked forward, feeling the pain as he thrust two cruel fingers into 
the narrow opening. 

"Hang onto her, Frank," Carlo commanded harshly. "I got some questions to 
ask, and she might get a little restless while she's thinking up the 
answers." 

Frank responded by putting all his weight on the girl's shoulders so that 
she could barely move a muscle. She began to cry, but neither man paid the 
slightest attention to her. 

"Now I want to know who sent you in here," Carlo demanded, his voice low and 
threatening as his fingers continued to pry at the frail portals of her 
anus. 

"No one," she sobbed, deciding she would hold out until the pain became 
unendurable. "Honest..." 

"Oh, you're gonna make it difficult, eh?" the man asked, unzipping his 
trousers and letting his already hardened cock spring free into the air. 
"Well, you're making it hard for me and I'm gonna make it even harder for 
you!" 

"What are you doing?" the girl quavered, feeling the broad, blunt end of his 
penis squeezing its way into the delicate valley between her buttocks." 

"Man, look at that ass," Carlo said, apparently talking to Frank. "This is 
one question-and-answer session I'm gonna enjoy. How about it baby? You 
ready to talk yet?" 

The girl's only response was a sob as she tried to clamp the cheeks of her 
buttocks together to keep his lewdly advancing cock out. She had never heard 
of this particular perversion before, but Carlo was depraved and evil enough 
to try anything, and the more it hurt her the better, as far as he was 
concerned. But he would kill her if he tried to make love to her there! It 
was unnatural! A woman was simply not built to take a man into the rear 
entrance to her loins! 

She broke out into a cold sweat of fright as she felt his cruelly gripping 
hands pry her buttocks apart, and his relentless cudgel make contact with 
her tiny elastic anal ring. No, no, no, she was sobbing to herself, half out 
of her mind with fear, desperately but uselessly twisting her naked body in 
a vain effort to avoid this degenerate impalement. But Frank increased his 
hold upon her shoulders, and she had no room for maneuvering since Carlo was 
blocking her only possible path of retreat from the rear. Between them, the 
two men had her completely paralyzed and she cried out with fear and horror 
as the hard meaty tip of Carlo's cock probed the entrance to her rectal 
depths. 

"Noooooooo!" she pleaded with him knowing that it was all pointless but 
unable to keep herself from screaming. 

"Who sent you here?" snarled Carlo, still determined to torture the truth 
out of her no matter what he had to do. 

"Please... no one..." she persisted, sure that they would simply kill her if 
she confessed to being a member of the police force. 

Carlo threw all the weight of his body against her upturned buttocks, and 
there was a loud popping sound in the room as the tightly resisting nether 
ring lost its battle to repel this depraved invasion. 

"Christ, she's tight! Never had it like this before, did you, baby?" he 
tormented her, groaning a little himself as the elastic tissue of her rectum 
pressed in on his hardened cock. The girl was groaning in pain, but no one 
was paying the slightest attention to her, and all that she could think 
about was the horrible ache in her anus from which there was no escape. The 
pain was radiating out in all directions, seeming to fill every tissue in 
her body, as he inched his way up into her. Carlo was grunting with the 
effort of forcing his heedless cock into this unnatural opening, but the man 
seemed to be possessed by some mindless persistence which drove him on 
relentlessly. 

"Who sent you?" he challenged her again, stabbing into her with one final 
massive lunge which carried his marauding cock all of the way up inside her 
agonized rectum to the very hilt. "Talk, you bitch, before I kill you!" 

But Dolly was too far gone now to obey even if she had wanted to, and her 
only answer was a pain-filled moan. The man's organ felt as if it were 
burning its way into her like a fiery spear and the best she could manage 
under the circumstances was a moan of anguished submission. Even screaming 
hurt too much! 

Carlo seemed to have postponed beating the truth out of her for the moment, 
concentrating all his attention on sodomizing her in a way she would 
remember the for rest of her life, however long or short it turned out to 
be. With long, torturous strokes, he began to surge in and out of her, 
penetrating the resilient moistness of her rectum again and again until the 
frail tissues gradually tired of their resistance and surrendered to the 
inevitable. The trapped brunette gasped and moaned slavishly with each 
pounding stroke and tiny wisps of anal flesh clung to the rigid shaft of 
Carlo's cock on the backstroke, only to disappear inside her again when he 
forced himself forward into the depths of her tormented body. She could 
hardly move a muscle as the two men held her between them with vise-like 
grips, and finally the easiest thing to do was to let her body go slack and 
allow them to do their worst. 

Carlo felt her body relax beneath him, observing that the offended nether 
passageway was now becoming progressively easier and easier to penetrate and 
he stepped up the pace, his fingernails digging into the firmly yielding 
flesh of her hips as he abused her. For the young police lieutenant, the 
worst of the pain had now passed, and she was left with nothing more than 
the certain knowledge that she was being soiled so foully that she would 
never really be able to feel clean again. In the realm of disgrace and 
humiliation, there was no way to go any lower; this was the bottom of the 
barrel. 

Hatred swept into her mind and, instead of worrying about being killed, she 
began to imagine holding a pistol to Carlo's head and slowly pulling the 
trigger. She could have murdered him with pleasure, after this, and she 
devotedly hoped that he would resist this evening when the raid took place 
so Ludditski's men could shoot him down like the savagely depraved animal he 
was. She might not live to see it happen, but she swore she would die 
content if she knew that this crime would not go unpunished. 

No, the fight had not gone out of her completely, and she struck back at the 
man who was violating her in the only way she could, tightening the muscles 
in her anus with all the strength left in her ravaged young body. 

"Christ, she's tight!" the man groaned, throwing his head back and baring 
his teeth as she clamped down on him. Frank had released his hold on her 
shoulders slightly and she used this precious margin of freedom to surge 
back against Carlo, pounding her widespread buttocks into his loins in a 
deadly effort to end it all for him. All right, she was thinking wildly, if 
they want to fuck me like this, let them! Two can play at this game! 

Unfortunately Carlo misinterpreted her intentions, seeing only that her 
bruised, perspiration-covered body had suddenly come to life. The girl's 
hips were rotating furiously in tiny little circles and her whole torso was 
undulating wildly as if she were suddenly consumed with a primal passion. 

"That a girl," he crowed triumphantly, thinking mistakenly that he had 
successfully conquered her body and soul. She was loving every minute of it, 
that much was obvious to his astonished eyes, and for a moment, doubt 
filtered back into his mind: Perhaps she was a whore after all! Would a 
policewoman react like this to the violent sodomizing of her anus? 

The young woman continued to buck and churn as if she were possessed by the 
devil, slamming the smoothly rounded half-moons of her buttocks back into 
his muscular loins in what was really a desperate maneuver to coax him into 
cumming. The only way she could end this horrifying anal rape was to excite 
him to the point where he was forced to fire his hotly lewd load of cum into 
the virginal depths of her belly, and Dolly fucked back into him like a 
slave, trying to make it happen. 

The dope-guided man responded, working over her like a demon as he felt the 
heat build up in his testicles like a boiler about to burst. 

"Aaaggghhhhh!!!" she groaned, once again in real agony as she felt the man's 
iron-hard cock expanding ruthlessly inside her badly stretched ass-flesh. He 
held still suddenly for a long moment as an explosive spasm swept over him, 
and then he groaned just once as he rammed himself as far up into her as was 
humanly possible. Dolly began to weep all over again as she felt the hot 
wetness of his sperm pouring into her rectum, searing her flesh as he 
relentlessly pumped his seed into her. 

For a moment neither of them moved. Then Dolly felt her knees collapsing out 
from under her, and she fell flat on her stomach with Carlo's body on top of 
her. 

"Oh, man, that was something else," he moaned, feeling one of his rare 
moments of true sexual satisfaction. "I can't remember the last time I got 
my rocks off like that!" 

"What'll we do with 'er now, Carlo?" questioned the young hood, glancing at 
his wrist watch. 

"Stick her down in her room until the boys get back from lunch. We can't 
keep a nice little thing like this to ourselves." 

"Suppose she gets noisy," worried Frank. "If she's really a cop..." 

"I got just the thing to keep her quiet," observed Carlo as he slipped his 
slowly deflating penis out of the young woman's forever stretched rectum. 
"Get me a hypodermic and a couple of nickel bags of horse." 



* * * * * 

Dolly sprawled naked on the floor of her room as the door clicked behind 
her, wondering if she could find the strength to crawl over to the night 
stand and knowing that she had to make it or she was doomed. The pain had 
gone completely, even the hurt in her arm where Carlo had plunged in the 
needle of heroin, and she felt so good that it seemed reasonable to lie on 
the floor where she was and let the world carry on without her. It was 
difficult to concentrate and even harder to make her body follow the orders 
of her drug-dazzled brain, but somehow she managed to get one arm up on the 
night stand and pull down the portable radio. She looked at it for a moment 
and giggled, wondering vaguely if she still remembered how to use it. 

Her fingers moving instinctively, she turned it on, and an announcer's suave 
voice informed her that it was now three o'clock in San Francisco and the 
sky was overcast and gray. Then there was music, and for awhile, the young 
police lieutenant listened happily. She had always liked music and this was 
one of her favorite tunes. She rolled lazily on her back, feeling the cool 
afternoon air breathe over her naked, cum-soaked body, and settled the radio 
in the valley between her breasts, both black and blue from the pummeling 
she had received. 

A sane thought struggled through the heroin fog in her mind and she 
remembered that this was a special radio, one with which you could talk as 
well as listen. It was like a telephone without a dial, and you could speak 
to that young man at the First District Precinct who sat with earphones on 
his head... She pulled the volume control out, cutting off the music, and a 
second later a soft cautious voice came into the room. 

"Go ahead... X-l, is that you? I'm not reading you!" 

Dolly giggled again, having forgotten what it was that she wanted to say. 
Perhaps they would let her talk to Bill? 

"Is Bill there?" she murmured, a happy smile crossing her face. 

"Bill? Are you all right? Do you have a report?" 

"Oh, I just feel wonderful!" she laughed, and fell asleep, the radio rising 
and falling on her bare stomach as she breathed deeply. 

Chapter EIGHT 

"I assure you, Marv, there's absolutely nothing between me and this girl. 
I'm merely concerned, that's all." 

"With all due respect to a colleague," grinned Ludditski sarcastically. "I'd 
say that your concern goes a long way beyond your official duties, but if 
you insist upon coming, I suppose I can't have you arrested. But goddamn it, 
stay out of the way!" 

"All right, Ludditski, you know I'm a trained police officer, unlike the 
girl you threw into this mess." 

"Look, we aren't going into that all over again. The girl was quickly but 
very thoroughly trained and she showed a remarkable aptitude for undercover 
work. Furthermore, she's gotten results. The Sacramento police spotted Tony 
Valenti's car leaving the outskirts of their territory and heading this way. 
That makes Wilkinson's report right on the money. He should have a trunk 
full of heroin and the moment he pulls up in front of his real estate 
office, we move." 

"Why didn't the boys in Sacramento pick him up?" 

"They were ordered not to grab him unless they had him cold; they just 
identified his license number as he went by on the highway. They could have 
chased him, but I'm just as happy they didn't. We know where he's headed and 
we'll have the surprise party when he gets here." 

Bill Franklyn sat back in his chair, satisfied for the moment. It was going 
to be bitter to see Dolly handcuffed and led away like a criminal and not be 
able to rush up and take her into his arms, but maybe if the raid went off 
well, Ludditski would be sufficiently elated to let him have a few minutes 
alone with her somewhere in the station house before they carted her off to 
the woman's reformatory. Then there would be another long wait, but at 
least, she would be safe and he could write to her, using a false name. 
After this experience, he was sure that she would be ready to think about 
the comforts of a happy marriage more seriously. Unless... unless she was... 
Franklyn found it difficult to finish the thought, but Dolly had spent more 
than two weeks with that mob and who could tell what they had done to her in 
that time. 

A brisk knock came at the door and Sergeant Gifford, one of Ludditski's 
staff, came in without waiting for permission. His face was flushed and he 
was obviously excited. 

"Captain! Oh... excuse me, I didn't realize..." 

"This is Captain Franklyn, Sarge," explained Ludditski quickly. "He's on our 
side." 

"We just had a transmission from X-l." 

Ludditski's face hardened, and Bill knew without being told that X-l could 
mean only one thing: The code name for Dolly. 

"So what did she say? I thought we told her to lie low until tonight." 

"We did, sir. It was kind of confused. All she said was 'IS BILL THERE?' as 
if she was making a telephone call. I asked her if she was feeling all right 
and she said, 'I feel wonderful'." 

"And then?" 

"That's it, Chief. That's all she said. Her voice sounded sort of dreamy as 
if she were half asleep." 

"And then the line went dead?" 

"No sir, the radio is still transmitting. I think I can hear her breathing." 

"You'd better move," snapped Franklyn. "I don't like the sound of that at 
all." 

"I don't either, but we aren't moving until Valenti gets back with the 
horse. If we hit them now, all we'd find is a building full of hoods all 
screaming for their lawyers and everyone more innocent than the other." 

"But she's obviously in trouble!" 

"Something strange is going on, I grant you that, but she did say she was 
feeling wonderful, so it can't be too serious." 

"So what are you going to do?" Franklyn was on his feet, red in the face and 
bending angrily over Ludditski's desk. He knew he was ruining his pose as a 
disinterested commanding officer who was merely concerned about a 
subordinate, but he could not bring himself to worry about police force 
regulations at the moment. 

"I'm not going to do anything right now, except continue to move my men in 
around Valenti's office and keep Sergeant Gifford listening on the short 
wave." 

"Well, I'm going to do something!" roared Franklyn, reaching instinctively 
under his jacket to touch his .38. "I don't give a damn..." 

Ludditski motioned to Sergeant Gifford who stepped quickly in front of the 
door, blocking Franklyn's exit. 

"Besides getting yourself killed, old buddy, you would be wrecking an 
operation which is costing the taxpayer a bundle of money," explained 
Ludditski calmly. "You are in my district, and if you fail to follow my 
orders in this matter, I intend to lock you in a cell until it's all over. 
It's obvious that there is something between you and this girl which is 
interfering with your judgment, Bill. Now cool it, before I have to put the 
cuffs on you." 

Franklyn sobered up quickly, seeing that Ludditski was perfectly serious, 
and that rushing into Valenti's headquarters alone would probably accomplish 
nothing anyway. 

"Look, if you want to be useful, why don't you go back to the wireless room 
with the sergeant here and listen for any further transmissions? You know 
Dolly, and it may be that you can interpret for us if she says anything 
else..." 

Shooting Ludditski a dirty look, Franklyn followed Gifford down the hall to 
a tiny room marked: Narcotics Squad Transmission Unit - Unauthorized Persons 
Not Admitted. 

"It gets pretty stuffy in there, sir," commented Gifford politely. "We 
usually leave our coats and hardware out here." 

It seemed like a reasonable request and Franklyn complied, slipping off his 
suitcoat and his shoulder holster before entering the tiny transmission 
room. He sat down before the shortwave and put the earphones on as Gifford 
lingered by the door. 

"What do you say to a cup of coffee, Captain? Looks like we might be in for 
an hour's wait." 

Bill Franklyn nodded absent-mindedly as the sergeant closed the door behind 
him, leaving him alone with the sound of Dolly's breathing in his ears. Ten 
minutes passed with no sound but the steady inhaling and exhaling and 
Franklyn waited impatiently, wondering where the hell Gifford had 
disappeared to. Finally there was a moment of static and male voices coming 
over the air. 

"She's in here... man, don't that look sweet...? Bare ass naked with a radio 
on her tits..." 

There were several voices, one blurring into another, and Franklyn's body 
went rigid as he understood that the woman he loved was apparently lying 
naked and unconscious in a room with several criminals. What did this mean? 

"Hey, man, I'm first," said one, his voice heavy with lust. 

"Okay, fella, but leave something for the rest of us, okay." 

"Hot dog, I'm gonna fuck this lady cop till the cum runs outta her ears..." 

Franklyn was on his feet, his hands suddenly shaking with rage. My God, 
they're going to rape her! She must be drugged! He had to notify Ludditski! 
They would have to move immediately! 

He slammed into the door, his hand on the knob, but the portal refused to 
give. It was locked from the outside! 

"Gifford!" he roared, his anger increasing by leaps and bounds. 

"Yes, Captain?" came a calm voice on the other side of the door. 

"For Christ's sake, let me out of here! They're going to rape Lieutenant 
Wilkinson!" 

"I'll notify Captain Ludditski, sir." 

"I'll notify him myself, now for Christ's sake, let me out!" 

"Sir, my orders are for you to stay put until we're ready to move," replied 
the sergeant calmly. Franklyn heard steps moving off down the corridor, and 
he sank down on the chair again in despair, placing the earphones back on 
his head, afraid of what he was going to hear. 

There was a long low moan which sounded like Dolly and then a crash as 
someone threw the portable radio across the room. And then there was 
silence. 



* * * * * 

Dolly believed it was all a dream, some wild wonderful dream which seemed to 
go on and on and never stop. The room was filled with men, but they were 
vague shadowy outlines and she could not distinguish their faces. For a 
while she wondered if Bill was there somewhere, but it was difficult to 
think about anything for very long and so she forgot about him. The men were 
speaking, but all her happiness was inside of her and she found it difficult 
to understand precisely what they were saying. It seemed they were going to 
make love to her, and Dolly grinned stupidly and wiggled a lewd invitation 
with her hips. She liked making love, and the mere thought of it sent a 
warmness through her drugged body. Whatever they wanted to do was all right 
with her, and tingles raced across the surface of her skin as the men picked 
her up and tossed her onto the bed. 

Suddenly there was a man's body on top of hers and she wrapped her arms 
warmly around his neck, pulling him tenderly to her as his calloused hands 
roamed over her smoothly inviting flesh. 

His crude lustful caresses had an immediate effect upon her drug-dazed body, 
as her buttocks began to grind wildly down into the bed while an enormous 
thirsting sensation blossomed into life deep in her belly. She had no 
thought whatsoever of trying to control her lusts this time; she was so 
helplessly and mindlessly on fire that her body had taken over the functions 
of her brain. 

The man was evidently in a hurry and paid no attention to what the woman 
beneath him was feeling. He maneuvered into position, placing his knees 
between her eagerly spread thighs and lowering his naked body down on her 
defenseless breasts as his cohorts lasciviously cheered him on, urging him 
to fuck the temporarily deranged woman and surrender his place to the next 
man in line. The thug did not understand precisely why Carlo had suddenly 
decided that it was permissible to assault the proud, high-breasted mistress 
of the boss, but presumably he had his reasons, and Carlo was a man you 
could trust, steady as a rock. The swollen black-and-blue mark on Dolly's 
arm explained her sudden urge to fuck everyone in sight. She had obviously 
fallen out of favor somehow and they had filled her up with horse. 

Probably later this evening, a pair of them would receive an order to put 
her in the car and take her for a long, one-way ride into the country. In 
fact, it might even be him who got the job of putting a pistol to her temple 
and blowing her brains out. But the prospect did not trouble the thug. He 
had done worse things in his time. 

Beneath him, Dolly groaned and writhed with impatience, dully wondering what 
was taking him so long. Her empty cunt felt like a long hollow tunnel which 
practically screamed to be filled with something. Her hands reached out 
blindly, searching for the buttocks of the man on top of her, and she sank 
her fingernails into the tightened muscles of his flanks, desperately trying 
to pull him into her. 

"Boys, she's ready to fuck!" he announced proudly to his colleagues, 
stupidly taking credit for the woman's wild excitement. 

"So start fucking!" beseeched a voice from the crowd. "If I wait any longer, 
I'm gonna cum in my pants!" 

The gangster obeyed, sliding his short thick cock smoothly into her eagerly 
clasping cunt, and ramming it all the way home with one vicious thrust. His 
balls stopped abruptly against the upturned cheeks of her buttocks, and the 
man was forced to groan as he felt the excitingly moist interior walls of 
her vagina pressing in on his skewering cock-shaft from all sides. 

A note of disappointment filtered into Dolly's drug-altered consciousness: 
The man was too short! He did not begin to fill her! There was still a great 
aching void somewhere up inside her where his inadequate penis couldn't 
reach. Sensing her distress, the thug tried to make up in energy what he 
lacked in physical size, and he went at her like a madman, pounding away at 
her viciously with the cheers and jeers of his friends ringing in his ears. 

The man had been spending his money on cheap whores too long, and his senses 
were dazzled by the beauty and freshness of the girl he was now abusing to 
his heart's content. His excitement increased by leaps and bounds, and 
before he knew it, he found himself on the point of cumming. Trying to 
postpone the inevitable, he slowed his pace, but the girl defeated him 
immediately since her body was gyrating and writhing so wildly that it made 
no difference to his lust-wracked cock whether he stopped or not. He penis 
stiffened suddenly and the searing creamy liquid steamed up into the young 
brunette's cunt in one solid jet of lust, pouring into the hidden recesses 
of her frustrated womb. 

It was too soon, much too soon, and her anguished body was still screaming 
for more as the man lifted his body away from her, allowing the cool air to 
sweep over her offended flesh, exciting the tiny throbbing button of her 
clitoris, now bathed and glistening in her own orgiastic juices. 

I'm dying, she told herself in a desperate state of violent lust. My God, 
I've got to have it! I'm going out of my mind! Her next customer was not 
long in arriving. The men were getting out of control by this point, and she 
could hear Carlo shouting at them irritably, warning that they were going to 
break the bed and there would be hell to pay if they did. Suddenly there was 
another man crouching between her knees, and she vainly tried to focus her 
eyes, making a futile effort to bring herself out of the fog and see who it 
was. Her legs obscenely spread apart in a position of open, wanton 
lasciviousness, she gazed down through the deep valley created by her high, 
upthrust breasts, seeing what appeared to be the handle of a baseball bat 
protruding from the man's groin. Normally, the sight would have inspired her 
with anguish and fear, but Dolly somehow failed to make the connection, not 
realizing that this fear-inspiring object was going to be thrust brutally up 
inside her delicate body. 

"Come on, Johnny!" someone called. "Let's see you use that battering ram!" 

There was a moment of excited comment around the room and a few catcalls as 
the huge, heavily muscled man threw his gigantic body on top of the young 
woman's prostrate form. Dolly felt hands grasping her ankles and wrists, 
spreading her out helplessly on the bed and pulling her smoothly tapered 
thighs even farther apart as the big man zeroed in on her. But the deeply 
drugged girl felt no fear, her hips grinding frantically around as she 
searched for the thick impaling pole she needed so badly. The brute took aim 
and stabbed forward cruelly, sinking the great bulging tip of his cock an 
inch or so into the quivering pink flesh of her vagina. 

Drugged or not, she could still feel pain, and she moaned slightly as the 
fragile tissues of her cunt labored to accommodate this massive invasion. 
She tried desperately to kick her legs and adjust her body into some more 
comfortable position, but the restraining hands from all sides held her 
immobile. The giant levered up over her on his hands and knees and pushed 
forward again, taking keen sadistic pleasure in the torment he was causing 
the helpless girl. 

"Aaaaaggggghhhhhh!!!" 

He pushed in again, stretching the cringing flesh of her cunt almost to the 
breaking point, and the girl's head thrashed back and forth on the pillow as 
this unexpected pain flooded through her body. But the heroin eased the hurt 
considerably, and she still felt as lust-driven as ever, her mind no clearer 
than it had been a few minutes before. She was only vaguely conscious of the 
fact that her big double bed was squeaking in protest as the men climbed 
aboard one after another, each wanting to be as close to the center of the 
action as possible. 

"Come on, Johnny!" someone called lewdly. "You're taking all night!" 

Johnny obliged, letting his enormous weight settle slowly down on top of the 
girl, driving his murderous cock into her like a stake being pushed into 
soft sand. The girl's body jerked convulsively, but the worst was clearly 
over. Her vaginal passage had been expanded considerably after two weeks 
with Tony Valenti and the pain was slowly dying as the man's long rigid 
shaft funneled all the way home. 

The men around the couple gazed in amazement, surprised that the tight 
little pussy they had all admired lustfully a few minutes before was really 
capable of expanding so dramatically. But Johnny was wasting no time with 
idle considerations like this: he wanted to fuck! Moving slowly at first, he 
began sawing laboriously in and out of her moistly fluttering vagina, his 
hard hairy chest brushing sensuously across the creamy-white flesh of the 
girl's succulent breasts. Dolly found herself floating even deeper into her 
thick sensuous fog, as idle erotic fantasies and bizarre dreams swarmed into 
her helplessly drugged mind. Her hips began gyrating madly in hopeless 
abandon, while tiny bird-like cries of undisguised lust trickled from her 
open mouth. All around her there were helping hands, poking and prodding at 
her nakedly tempting body. One man threw himself next to Johnny, forcing his 
hand beneath the yielding flesh of her flanks to attack the undefended 
little crevice of her anus. The girl hardly noticed as the finger vilely 
invaded her body, prying into her rectal depths, and stroking back and forth 
in time with Johnny's savage thrusts, but even this depraved maneuver added 
subconsciously to her excitement. 

"Oh... that's right... do it harder!" she mumbled thickly, addressing no one 
in particular as her sex madness increased drastically. She was catching 
fire and her whole tormented, over-stimulated figure began to shiver as if a 
cold wind had suddenly blown over her perspiration-covered skin. The man 
called Johnny was paying no real attention to her, not caring whether she 
enjoyed this degenerate rape or not, and it came as a surprise when her legs 
started to climb unashamedly up against his loins. She was pulling on him 
with the muscles in her thighs, lewdly urging him to fuck into her harder 
and deeper as she plastered her mouth against his, her tongue darting 
lasciviously up into his open panting mouth. 

"Oh God! I'm... I'm cumming!" she announced in a high faint voice as if she 
herself were shocked by this unexpected event. The orgasm hit her like a 
kick in the stomach and she doubled up, every muscle in her gyrating, 
excited body straining with passion as the erotic spasm surged through her 
system. The man who had been fucking complacently into her took this as a 
compliment to his love-making abilities, and put some back into it, 
skewering into her with long smooth strokes so that she never really had a 
chance to climb down from the heights of ecstasy, but remained on a strange 
high plateau of sensuality. She was gurgling and groaning with absolute joy 
as his long, fierce cock suddenly stiffened and seemed to explode 
ferociously within her delighted cunt, shooting great pungent wads of hot 
sticky cum up into the hidden depths of her womanhood. Her loins reached up 
to receive his gift, the frantically nibbling lips of her cunt sucking and 
drawing on his wildly ejaculating penis until she had milked him dry. 

Then things became confused as she sank deeper into the swirling mist of 
heroin dreams. The man named Johnny was gone abruptly and the hot air in the 
room seemed to fill up her cunt the moment it was vacant, creating in her a 
tremendous insane desire to be filled again, by anyone and anything! 

There were men all over her, and all her blurred vision could see was a 
veritable forest of cocks. There were men pawing and stroking her on all 
sides, and she moaned in absolute delight, knowing in the back of her 
dulled, demented mind that she had never been this happy before in her 
entire life. This was what she wanted, she told herself in the back of her 
drug-altered consciousness. She wanted to be used, abused, ravaged and 
violated, fucked senseless and then fucked again just for good measure. 

There was Carlo's authoritative voice in the room, and she recognized him, 
giggling foolishly as she recalled how she had cried when he had lewdly 
violated her rectum. It did not seem nearly so bad now, and dreamily she 
wondered if he would do it again. This time she might enjoy it... 

But there were hands lifting her into the air, turning her over on her 
stomach, and she cooed happily like a baby, each finger pressing into the 
tenderness of her skin sending shocks of pleasure racing through her nervous 
system. She came down again on the mattress, finding it damp from a mixture 
of cum and perspiration, but she was given no time to object, if the idea of 
objecting had ever entered her mind. 

Instantly, she felt a man's hand gripping her hips and a hardened penis 
worming its way into her open, gaping, womb. She received it like a 
Christmas present, irrationally happy and wiggling her ass-cheeks back into 
the man's loins like a bitch in heat. With a cry of pleasure, the man 
answered this lecherous invitation, pushing brutally forward and burying his 
cock in her with one quick stroke. No sooner had he begun to fuck 
methodically in and out of her steaming cunt than another man presented 
himself in front of her, his penis-dagger ramming without warning into her 
open mouth. 

The room grew silent for a moment as the group waited to see if she would 
fight back against this horrid defilement. To their stupefication, she 
seemed to accept it as normal, clamping her lips promptly over the orally 
invading shaft, and sucking away as if she had been born for this purpose 
and no other. 

Carlo stood with his arms folded, leaning against the wall and watching as 
his troops buffeted the helpless girl back and forth among them. It was 
obvious that she had flown once more out of control and her lust-inspiring 
young body was undulating frantically as the two thugs fucked into her 
brutally from both ends. For some reason, Carlo was beginning to feel edgy 
and nervous, and it suddenly occurred to him to worry that Valenti might be 
angry when he found out what had happened. But on the other hand, the boss 
should be grateful that Carlo had trapped a spy. Then again, he never could 
have exposed her for what she was had it not been for his careless act of 
leaving the door unlocked. 

Gloomily, the gang's administrator watched as the girl's body spasmed into 
another frantic orgasm, provoking the man behind her to groan, bending over 
her white, tempting back in passion as he filled her fluttering cunt with 
another load of cum. The man who was kneeling before her was not far behind, 
and the cum dripped lewdly down her chin as she clamped her lips around the 
man's exploding cock in a futile attempt to swallow every last drop of his 
lust-inspiring seminal fluid. 

Carlo noticed that his hands were shaking. Instinctively, he looked at his 
watch, seeing that it was only a few minutes after seven. According to his 
own personal timetable, he should not be needing another fix until later 
this evening, but there was no denying the perspiration forming rapidly on 
his forehead. 

He closed his eyes and willed the withdrawal symptoms to go away, trying to 
tell himself that he was strong enough to beat a drug habit all by himself. 
But the trembling would not stop, and he knew he was licked. He decided that 
he had better get it taken care of now before the boss got back. 

He stepped out of the girl's bedroom, a false, strained smile on his face, 
his hands thrust deep into his pockets to prevent anyone from seeing how 
badly they were shaking. His spirits were plunging toward the cellar again, 
and he knew that the needle was upstairs in his office. When Tony returned 
with the horse, there would be a lot of talking. Explanations would have to 
be made about the girl, and they would have to reach some decision as to 
what to do with her. But first it would be necessary to move the heroin 
shipment out, as well as the records, so there would be nothing 
incriminating in the building in the event of a raid. As it was, at the 
moment, there was enough information in the files to send them all away for 
life. 

Before they killed that wildly fucking spy, he wanted to have a few more 
sessions with her and see if she couldn't be broken down far enough to admit 
exactly who had sent her. Now that she had one dose of heroin in her, she 
was on her way toward addiction, and after a few more shots she would tell 
them anything they wanted to know in exchange for the precious needle. 

Of course, that was a time-consuming approach, and if they needed an answer 
faster than that, they could always try the business end of a lighted 
cigarette against those nice big fat tits. That normally produced some 
conversation from a woman who was reluctant to talk. 

He was sweating heavily by the time he reached the office, and he took a 
quick look out into the street before preparing his hypodermic needle. It 
was nearly time for Tony to be coming back from Sacramento, and it would be 
a bad scene if the boss walked in just as he was heating the horse in his 
bent spoon. No, Tony's car was not there, so there would be plenty of time 
to... 

Carlo's expert eye locked on the street below him as he took a careful 
second look. The gangster was in very bad shape, but a lifetime of 
criminality had made him very observant, and he did not like what he saw out 
his window. There were too many cars parked on the street, and some of them 
had strangers sitting inside them. Lounging in front of the car down the 
street, there were three more unknown faces pouring over a newspaper, and 
the barbershop across the street had six customers inside, waiting for a 
shave and a haircut. Or were they? 

Cops! This was how the world looked just before the sky fell in on you and 
Carlo discovered that his whole body was shaking. Christ, they were going to 
be raided! He had to destroy the files and find some way of heading Tony off 
before he came down the street with the heroin, or they were all finished! 
He did not need to look out the back window, since he knew that Ludditski 
would have that covered as well. He could never do what he had to do in the 
shape he was in! He had to have that fix! 

His vision was blurring badly by the time he got the false bottom out of the 
desk and spread his materials carelessly on the blotter on top. He lit the 
candle after dropping the matches on the floor a couple of times and then 
ripped open two nickel bags and dumped the powder into the spoon, just as 
the candle blew out accidentally. Cursing feebly, he carefully lit the 
candle a second time and then ripped open two more nickel begs, having lost 
count in his agonized haste. His head was spinning badly, and it took every 
ounce of concentration he had left in him to fill the needle and find a vein 
to shoot it into. 

It hit him fast, faster than usual, but he decided that it was the 
excitement of the raid which was coming, and he ran back to the window, 
leaving the hypodermic needle lying on the desk. 

There was a car coming around the corner, a solid black Cadillac, and he 
recognized in a split second that it was Valenti bringing home the heroin. 
He had to warn him! If the police caught him with the horse they were all 
going to jail for life! 

Acting instinctively, the hood pulled out his revolver, smashed the window 
and fired in the general direction of the car. Tony would turn tail and beat 
it the moment he heard shooting, and with the Caddie under him, the boss 
could outrun any cop car in the city. Carlo strained his eyes to see what 
was happening, but the world outside seemed to be slowly changing on him, 
and everything was turning white as if there was a flurry of thick falling 
snow in the middle of the summer day. Everything was going to be all right, 
he told himself as he lowered his body to the floor, watching the room fill 
up with white sparkling crystals. Funny, he hadn't noticed how beautiful the 
world looked when everything around you turned to white, the purest white in 
all the world. EPILOGUE 

Carlo Malfatti was already dead upon the arrival of the police. Apparently 
his death had taken place within minutes of firing the shot which had 
alerted Tony Valenti. The diagnosis of death due to a massive, accidental 
overdose of heroin was made b the police and later confirmed by an autopsy. 

Tony Valenti stepped on the brakes of the Cadillac the minute he heard 
Carlo's warning shot, and then attempted to make a rapid U-turn in the 
narrow street A police car blocked his exit and the two vehicles collided 
violently, with Valenti's Cadillac rolling over on its top. Thinking that 
the man was probably injured, Patrolman Ronald C. Wycinski approached the 
vehicle to render first-aid, only to be shot and killed by Valenti as he 
wiggled free of the burning vehicle. Other police returned his fire, and 
Valenti is believed to have been hit in the thigh and the shoulder, but, 
displaying enormous reserves of strength and resistance to pain, he managed 
to make his escape on foot. 

Three kilos of pure heroin with a street value of just under three-quarters 
of a million dollars was found concealed in a spare tire of the vehicle. 
Valenti is wanted by federal and state authorities for first degree murder, 
kidnapping, possession and sale of illegal narcotics, tax evasion and a 
variety of other charges arising from the incidents described in this book, 
but unfortunately he has apparently disappeared from the underworld scene 
and may have retired to another country to enjoy the profits of a life of 
crime. 

The Valenti Organization was completely dismantled by San Francisco Police 
and most members of the gang are presently serving sentences in California 
state prisons. At the time of the Ludditski raid, the gang put up scattered 
resistance, some surrendering immediately and others fighting until they 
were shot down by police officers. One member of the San Francisco police 
force was killed by gunfire inside the alleged real estate office, and two 
more were wounded. The rescue of Lieutenant Dorothy Wilkinson was carried 
out by a flying squad consisting of Captain Marvin Ludditski, Captain 
William Franklyn, and Sergeant Thomas Gifford who were able to capture the 
men gathered in Wilkinson's room without firing a shot. 

The records found in Carlo Malfatti's safe led to the arrest and conviction 
of several other drug pushers, but the identity of Valenti's contact in 
Sacramento remains a mystery. 

"Uncle" was tried in San Francisco Criminal Court on charges of conspiracy 
to engage in the sale of illegal narcotics. Defended by two of the country 
leading criminal lawyers, he was found not guilty for lack of proof and 
released. 

Captain William Franklyn and Lieutenant Dorothy Wilkinson were married in a 
private ceremony performed by the mayor of San Francisco shortly after Lt. 
Wilkinson's release from the hospital where she had been treated for heroin 
poisoning, hepatitis, as well as bruises and lacerations. Mrs. Franklyn 
never returned to duty with the San Francisco police, and accompanied her 
new husband to a small town in another part of the country where Captain 
Franklyn became chief of police. Mrs. Franklyn is now a social worker, 
specializing in drug problems. 

Captain Marvin Ludditski was promoted to the rank of inspector as a result 
of his successes in combating organized crime in the San Francisco area. 
Seven months after the destruction of the Valenti organization, he was found 
murdered in his apartment. The identity of his assassin was never 
determined, but the crime was believed to be a result of underworld 
vengeance. 

Lieutenant (formerly Sergeant) Thomas Gifford was recently decorated for 
heroism during a successful raid on an illegal narcotics laboratory in San 
Francisco after a fifteen year old girl was found nearby in an abandoned 
car, dead from an overdose of heroin. 

And the war continues.


THE END
