Blackman's Blonde
by Unknown


FOREWORD 

Tony Parrow shut and locked the door of the seedy hotel room. Joan whirled 
around when she heard the lock click into place. 

Not quite sure what was happening, the beautiful blonde girl demanded, "Just 
what the hell do you think you're doing?" 

The big black man grinned. "What the fuck does it look like to you, bitch? 
Get your damned clothes off." 

She tried to rush past him. He grabbed her wrist and threw her on the bed. 
Joan looked up at him with fear in her blue eyes. 

Her skirt had climbed up to the top of her creamy-white thighs. Her legs 
were spread, and Tony could see the white triangle that was her bikini-style 
panties. 

The tempting sight made his cock grow long d hard. It was so stiff that it 
hurt. He gave it a squeeze. 

He clicked his switchblade knife into place. Joan was hypnotized by the 
sight of the evil, glittering blade. 

Tony used it to cut off the buttons of her blouse. Joan was wearing a white 
lace bra. He cut off the shoulder straps of it. 

Her full, lush breasts tumbled free of the confining cups. They were high 
and firm and rounded, with fat, pink nipples. 

She tried to cover them with her arms. Tony reached under her skirt and 
pulled her panties off her pussy. 

Joan whimpered, "Please, please don't NO!!!" 

 CHAPTER ONE 

Senator Theodore Weal's receptionist said firmly, "I'm sorry, but the 
Senator is having a very important consultation, and can't be disturbed." 

She hung up the phone. She looked over her shoulder at the locked door of 
the Senator's office. She sighed with exasperation. 

She knew what kind of "consultation" the Senator was engaged in right now. 
He was in there with Joan Farmingdale, his gorgeous and competent 
administrative assistant. 

The receptionist had spent more than one afternoon herself on the couch in 
the Senator's office. Like most of the power-holders in Washington, it 
seemed that the Senator was always horny. 

The receptionist didn't give a damn about that. The trouble was, the 
Senator's sex drive was getting in the way of important business. 

The party's national convention was only a few weeks away, and there was a 
mountain of work to attend to. 

The Senator had a very good chance of being his party's nominee for the 
Presidency of these United States. 

That was why the receptionist was so irked by his afternoon dalliance. The 
phone was lighting up with calls from key backers and allies of the Senator, 
all of them wanting to make battle plans for the convention. 

The phone rang again. The receptionist picked it up and said tiredly, "I'm 
sorry, the Senator is in consultation right now, and can't be disturbed...." 

Senator Theodore Weal, the man who could very well be the next President, 
would have reacted with very poor grace if he had been disturbed at this 
time. 

He was forty-eight years old, handsome in a blowsy way, with a square-shaped 
face and a mass of hair that had begun to gray at the temples. 

He didn't mind the gray. It made him look distinguished, and experienced. It 
was good for his image. 

And it certainly didn't hurt him any in getting the girls. Washington was 
filled with legions of gorgeous girls who would give their all to get near 
to the seat of power. 

Joan Farmingdale was such a girl, and she had gotten very close indeed to 
the seat of power. The Senator was passionately embracing her at that very 
moment. 

Joan was twenty-four years old. She was smashingly attractive, with a long 
mane of blonde hair, sleek, aristocratic features, and a beautiful body. 

She was standing in the center of the Senator's plush, deep-pile carpet. The 
Senator stood pressed up next to her, his arms around her. 

He was wearing a dark, conservative three-piece suit, although his politics 
were liberal. Joan wore a beige jacket and skirt, and a silver blouse. 

The Senator put his large hand on the swelling curve of her hip. Joan 
murmured, "Oh, Theo." 

All the Senator's intimates called him 

"Theo", and Joan had certainly been more intimate with him than most. 

Theo's hand pressed against the small of her back. Slowly it dropped down 
until it lay flat across her rounded buttocks. 

Theo crushed his mouth against hers. His tongue probed the warm sweetness of 
her mouth. 

He broke off the kiss. Joan said hesitantly, "Theo, we have a lot of work to 
get done this afternoon-" 

"You're not kidding," the Senator chuckled. He fondled Joan's firm, lush 
Breasts through her blouse. 

"No, really," she continued, "we have to iron out your position on the party 
platform, and--" 

He said, "Right now, the only position that I'm interested in is the one 
that I'm going to put you in, honey." 

Joan said, "There's nothing that I'd rather do more, Theo, but with the 
convention so close, I think that we should concentrate on the business of 
getting you elected." 

"Objection overruled," Theo said. 

"But-" Joan began. 

The Senator silenced her with a kiss. Realizing the futility of arguing with 
him when he was aroused, and feeling rather aroused herself, Joan ceased 
trying to convince him to work. 

And he was aroused. Joan could feel his hard cock inside his trousers. It 
was thick and bulging, and rubbed against her pelvis. 

Joan reached between them and rubbed her palm over his cock. The Senator's 
face reddened, as it always did when he was in the heat of desire. 

He put his hand on her thigh. She was wearing pantyhose. He slid his hand 
along her nyloned thigh, running it under her skirt. 

Joan sighed softly. Theo touched her panties. The contact seemed to send 
sparks traveling through his fingers. 

Joan felt herself getting wet between the legs. She parted her rich redlips 
and sighed heavily. The Senator led her to the couch. 

It was a long, leather-covered couch which could comfortably fit three 
people at once. Which is just what it had done, from time to time. 

The office itself was paneled in handsome walnut, and was dominated by a 
massive wooden desk. Theo had laid a few young lovelies on that very desk. 

There was an American flag on one side of the room, and a flag decorated 
with the official seal of the Senator's home state. 

On the Senator's desk were some framed pictures of Theo's wife, Karyn, and 
their four lovely children. The Senator was very big on family. 

Out of consideration for his absent wife, Theo had turned Karyn's picture 
face down on his desk, so that her photographed image wouldn't have to look 
at her husband's adultery. 

He led Joan to the couch. He stood behind her and took off her beige jacket 
and draped it over the back of a chair. 

Then he took off his jacket and tie. He unbuttoned the front of his shirt. 
Joan started unbuttoning her blouse. 

Theo put his hand on hers. "Don't," he said. "I want to undress you myself." 

Standing in front of her, he began to undo the buttons of her blouse. Joan 
rubbed his cock as he did so, making it hard for him to keep from being 
distracted. 

He unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off her shoulders. Joan was five 
foot six in her stocking feet, and weighed a hundred and twelve pounds. 

She was a shining, long-legged girl. Under the smooth skin that sheathed 
her, she had the lean musculature of someone who has done a great deal of 
swimming, dancing, and playing tennis. 

She was lean all over, with the exception of her full, large breasts and her 
voluptuous bottom, which was supported by a pair of dancer's legs. 

She wore a pink satin bra. The Senator's fingers touched the satin cups, 
feeling for her nipples beneath them. 

Under his touch, the nipples became hard and pointed, and jutted out against 
the satin bra cups. 

She was excited. 

Joan reached behind her back. She unhooked her bra. Theo slipped the 
shoulder straps off her tanned shoulders. 

Joan's breasts came free of the cups. They were soft and white, and showed 
the outline of the bikini top that she had worn while sunning herself. 

Her nipples were like little pink pebbles pasted on to her big breasts. Theo 
bent to kiss them, first one, then the other. 

"Beautiful," he murmured, "so beautiful." 

She was nude from the waist up. Her shimmering mane of golden hair hung down 
to the middle of her back. 

She reached for the buttons on his shirt, and opened one of them at the 
neck. She said, "Hurry up and undress." 

He grinned. "I want to get you naked first, honey." 

Joan knew that that was one of his kicks, having a nude woman waiting for 
him while he was still fully clothed. 

Well, she didn't mind how he got his kicks, just as long as she was the nude 
woman who was waiting for him. 

Not that Joan had any illusions about the Senator. She had served as his 
adminstrative assistant for too long to be naive. 

She knew that there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell of Theo ever leaving 
his wife for Joan. And that suited Joan fine. 

She didn't want to be a legislator's wife. Caesar's wife had to be more 
stainless than Caesar. Joan had no interest in living the kind of goldfish 
bowl existence that a public figure's wife had to live. 

What she wanted was power. The Senator was going places, maybe all the way 
to the White House. And she intended to go there with him. 

Joan kicked off her shoes. Theo reached for the side of her skirt and 
unzipped the little side zipper. 

Theo pulled her skirt down off her hips and let it drop to the floor. Joan 
stepped out of it. 

She wore a pink satin slip decorated with lace floral designs. It seemed to 
crackle with static electricity. 

He took off her slip. She was wearing pink satin panties. They were 
decorated with a satin ribbon running just under the elastic waistband. 

He slipped his hands inside her pantyhose and unpeeled them from her 
polished ivory thighs. He knelt down so he could pull them down off her 
calves to her ankles. 

Joan sat down on the edge of the leather couch and raised her feet from the 
floor. The Senator slipped the rolled pantyhose off her ankles. 

She was clad only in her pink panties. They formed a silken pink triangle on 
her hips. Her legs were long and luscious. 

Theo's cock bulged out the front of his trousers. He bent over and took hold 
of the girl's panties and slipped them off her. 

Joan stepped out of her panties and lay down on her back on the couch. She 
parted her legs. Her pubic bush was a mass of soft, golden-brown curls. 

She touched her pointed nipple. She put her hands under her breasts, cupping 
them as though she was offering them to him-which she was. 

She said, "Come on, Theo, don't keep me waiting too long, babe." 

Theo pulled off his shirt. He was in such a hurry that he accidentally tore 
a button loose. It hit the carpet and rolled under the couch. 

He kicked off his shoes and socks. Joan squeezed her thighs together as he 
unbuckled his belt, opened his trousers, and pulled down his fly. 

He stepped out of his trousers. He wore a pair of old-fashioned boxer-style 
undershorts. His stiff cock poked out of the top of it. 

He remained standing. Joan knew what he wanted. She sat up and got off the 
couch and on to her knees in front of him. 

Like all congressmen, the Senator was mad for oral sex. He couldn't get 
enough of it, and if a woman of his wouldn't perform it, she didn't stay his 
woman for long. 

He looked down at her without speaking. Joan took hold of his shorts and 
pulled them down off his hips and let them fall to the floor. 

Freed from its restraint, his cock jutted outward. The head was wide and 
swollen. 

Blue veins pulsed along the stiff shaft. The dangling cock loomed a few 
inches from Joan's eager, upturned face. 

She licked her red lips, moistening them. She kissed the cock lightly on the 
blunt tip of it. 

She opened her mouth wide. She took hold of the Senator's cock and held it 
by the base as she guided it into her mouth. 

It was warm and firm and filled her. She looked up. Theo's face was squeezed 
together in an expression of ecstasy as she took him in her mouth. 

She ran the broad, flat part of her strong tongue over the small button of 
flesh on the underside of his cock. 

That part of him was very sensitive, and he moaned with excitement as her 
lashing tongue ran across it. 

She could feel his cock heating up inside her mouth. She rubbed the head of 
it against the sensitive roof of her mouth. 

Early in her Washington career, Joan had mastered the skill of relaxing the 
muscles in her throat, so she could take a cock in it as deeply as possible. 

It was a job skill that had stood her in good stead in the nation's capital, 
and was as much responsible for her rise up the ladder of power as her 
formidable executive skills. 

Now, she concentrated on easing those muscles. It was a trick not unlike 
that used by carnival sideshow sword swallowers. 

Joan swallowed a sword of flesh. She took Theo's cock as deep in her mouth 
as she could, until his cock head rubbed against the soft tissues at the 
back of her throat. 

She opened her eyes and looked up. Theo's face was scarlet with excitement. 
The base of his shaft was practically pressed against her lips. 

He moved back and forth, pumping his hips and rising on the balls of his 
feet. His cock thrust in and out of her mouth, as though he was fucking it 
like it was a pussy. 

Joan delicately caressed his swollen, hairy balls. The Senator gasped and 
groaned in ecstasy. 

As she sucked his cock, Joan fondled his balls and his buttocks. She made 
wet, slurping sounds as she gave him her head. 

His cock was oiled and gleaming with her saliva. Saliva ran down the corners 
of her mouth and made her chin wet. 

Her golden hair brushed back and forth against her firm, full breasts as her 
head bobbed from the sucking that she was giving him. 

"Ummmm," Theo said, "that's fantastic. You're the best, Joan, the best!" 

Joan's wet lips glided over the stiff flesh of his swollen shaft. She knew 
from experience that he was very near to coming. 

She rubbed his balls some more. They were ultra-sensitive, and she used a 
touch that was lighter than a feather. 

Theo moaned, "Oh God, Joan!" 

He thrust his hips forward, forcing his cock deeper into her mouth. She 
would have gagged if she hadn't been ready for him. 

His hands gripped her shoulders. His fingers dug into her soft flesh, 
leaving red marks on the smoothly tanned skin. 

His cock stiffened and quivered in her mouth. Suddenly a jet of come spewed 
out of the tip of his cock. 

The semen splashed against the back of her throat. Every muscle in Theo's 
body contracted simultaneously as his orgasm hit him. 

Joan slurped and sucked and swallowed. She took a big gulp, and forced his 
come down her throat. 

She swallowed almost all of it, except for some drops that splashed over, 
her tongue. It felt oily, but didn't taste like anything. 

The tension drained out of the Senator's body along with his semen. His sigh 
of release sounded like steam escaping from a leaky valve. 

Joan left his cock in her mouth. She knew that he would take it out when he 
was ready. He stood there for a minute, not moving. 

He opened his eyes. They were all glazed, and his face looked washed out and 
exhausted. Tiny beads of sweat hung on his broad forehead. 

He took his cock out of her mouth. It was still stiff and semi-erect. Joan 
kissed the swollen head of it. 

He said, "That was fabulous, Joan. You're the greatest, honey." 

"You're the greatest, Theo," she said with a smile. 

A pearly drop of come hung down at the corner of her mouth. Her pink tongue 
slipped out between her lips, lapped up the drop, then returned inside her 
mouth. 

The Senator extended his hand down to her. Joan took it. He helped her to 
her feet. He moved close to her. 

He reached out and fondled her breasts. They were soft, live things in his 
hands. His blunt fingers squeezed and pinched the pointed nipples. 

He kissed her on the cheek. He would never, never kiss her on the mouth 
after she had sucked him off. 

She reached behind him and fondled his buttocks. Like many a man who spends 
a good deal of time behind a desk, the Senator's ass was getting a bit fat. 

He had a thick, heavy paunch, too. But his shoulders were broad, and his 
arms strong, and he could look craggily handsome in the right light. 

He reached between her legs. The back of his hand rubbed against the furry 
softness of her pubic bush. 

He rubbed the perfectly formed lips of her pussy. His middle finger slipped 
between the lips, and went inside her. 

Joan was already wet and hot in her pussy. The Senator stuck two fingers 
inside her. He moved them in and out. They sloshed around in her juices. 

Joan said, "Ummm, don't keep me waiting any longer, Theo! Give it to me!" 

He took his fingers out of her cunt. He put his hands on her breasts and 
pushed. The edge of the couch bumped against the backs of Joan's knees. 

Joan sat down. The leather was cool and slick against her soft buttocks. 
Theo pushed her some more, so that she was forced to lay down backwards. 

Now she was lying on her back, looking up at him. He took his cock in his 
hand and gave it a few quick strokes to make it harder. 

He gripped her by the ankles and opened her legs wide. They were like a pair 
of tan scissors with her hairy pussy at the junction of the two blades. 

The Senator got on the couch. He put his knees between her legs. His wide 
hands parted her soft, smooth thighs. 

He lowered himself on top of her. His chest pressed down against the 
yielding softnesses of her breasts, flattening them. 

He aimed his cock between her legs, and eased the head of it between her 
pink pussy lips. 

He moaned with pleasure as his cock entered her. She was so damned hot and 
wet and silken! He shoved his hips forward. 

His cock disappeared between her pussy lips as she swallowed him up. Joan 
wriggled her hips as she was penetrated. 

Theo took hold of her hips. A lock of hair fell across his forehead as he 
began to thrust in and out of her. 

Joan responded, bringing her hips up to meet his descending thrusts. She 
wrapped her slender arms around his broad, sweating back. 

Theo shoved in harder and faster. The joints holding the couch together 
began to squeak and rattle. 

Joan gasped, "Give it to me good and hard! Oooooh, that's so good!" 

It was okay, but it wasn't all that great. She had had plenty better, but a 
little acting certainly wouldn't hurt. 

The Senator's belly slapped against her flat, ut tummy as he plowed her. 
Joan moaned and thrashed her hips and made little sighing cries. 

Theo's face was all red and swollen. His eyes were bulging as though he was 
staring, but he wasn't seeing anything. 

He shoved his cock deep into her. His buttocks got all hard and clenched. 
Come spurted from his cock deep inside her. 

Exhausted, Theo collapsed on her bosom. He turned his head to one side like 
a swimmer and sucked in great breaths of air. 

The Senator and Joan lay in each other's arms for ten minutes. Then Theo 
rolled off her and sat up on the couch. 

Idly he stroked her belly and her lush breasts. He murmured, "That was 
really special, Joan." 

"You said it," she agreed. 

He said, "I have an important assignment for you, Joan." 

She opened her legs and gripped his hand and guided it to her pussy. 

Theo laughed softly and said, "No, not that kind of assignment, dear. You 
can think of it as a kind of reward for, er, distinguished service." 

Joan asked him what he had in mind. He said, "As you know, the convention is 
being held in New York City very shortly." 

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Joan said. "We've pretty well 
got the nomination locked up, but we can't afford to relax." 

"My sentiments exactly," Theo said. "Now, our party is the party that cares 
about people, about the poor. I want you to go to New York City and get some 
in-depth details as to how the recession is affecting the poor." 

Joan pouted, "That doesn't sound like much fun." 

"You'll be working, but don't forget, you'll be in the world's biggest 
playground," Theo pointed out. "You'll have the chance to mix business with 
pleasure." 

"That sounds better," she said with a smile. 

"Of course, you'll have an unlimited expense account," he said. "You know 
the kind of thing I want you to get-stuff like old people whose social 
security is so low that they have to eat dog food, or tenements crowded with 
two families in an apartment-something that really tugs the old 
heartstrings, you know?" 

Joan said, "You want those personal details of poverty that the statistics 
don't show, right?" 

"Exactly." 

"I get you, Theo," she said. 

"You're going to get me in more ways than one," he said. "Come here, you 
blonde beauty." 

He was sitting on the couch. Joan crawled over to him and poised her head 
over his lap. His cock was small and diminished. 

He pulled her head into his lap. Joan opened her mouth and took his cock 
inside it. As soon as she did so, it began to quiver and grow. 

Soon she had a mouthful of stiff, hard cock. 

She knew what to do with it. Her golden hair fanned out over his hips and 
thighs. 

Her head bobbed up and down as she sucked him. The Senator smoothed her hair 
as she worked him over. 

Her hot, wet mouth breathed life into his cock. She sucked and slurped on 
it. The Senator convulsively opened and clenched his fists. 

Once again, he came in her mouth. 

At the same time that the Senator was amusing himself with Joan, a man in 
New York City was also diverting himself with female companionship. 

His name was Roi Hibbler, and unlike the Senator, Roi had known the real 
meaning of poverty. 

He had clawed his way up from the gutter with balls, brains, and muscle, and 
he would kill to keep from going back down the ladder. 

He was a man-sized chunk of black rock. He looked like a life-sized statue 
carved from coal. He was better dressed than the Senator was. 

Roi's office was up in Harlem. It was palatial, with a desk as big as a 
compact car, and equipped with all the trimmings of power. 

Roi had come a long way from humble beginnings. Before he was ten years old, 
he had been a numbers runner. 

He picked up spare money steering white Johns to local whore houses. By the 
time that he was thirteen, he was making over ten thousand dollars a year as 
a dope pusher. 

He had climbed all the way up the criminal ladder. He had been a strong arm, 
a leg breaker, and finally, a life taker. 

He had gunned his way to the top of the rackets uptown, and now it would 
take dynamite to blast him out of his position. 

The white mobs had tried to kill him in the past, but Roi was damned near 
unkillable. After a while, they realized that they had to work with him, so 
the white mobs laid off. 

Roi had taken a leaf from their book, and seemingly gone legit. He owned a 
funeral parlor, construction company, trucking firm, and a host of other 
legal businesses. 

His head was as big as a pumpkin, and his fists were as big as hams. But he 
wore a custom-made suit and a specially fitted silk shirt. 

The state-of-the-art stereo in his office was playing lush symphonic music. 
Oddly enough, Roi loathed soul music and blues, and wouldn't play anything 
but classical music. 

He wasn't alone. There was a girl in his office, sitting nervously on the 
edge of a chair in front of his desk. 

She was a whore who was a member of the stable of a pimp who owed Roi a 
great deal of money. Roi was mad' as hell at the pimp, whose name was Grover 
Webb. 

Webb had brought the girl to Roi as a peace offering of sorts. She was a 
Caucasian female who couldn't have been older than a sophomore in the high 
school she had dropped out of. 

She was short and plump. She was outfitted in whore clothes-tight, short 
skirt, knee-length black leather boots with high heels, and a see-through 
black blouse made of a gauzy, filmy material. 

She had light brown hair that was curled and cut in a style made popular by 
one of TV's biggest female stars. 

Her face was heavily made up. She had dark, arching eyebrows, thick false 
lashes, and a red, shining mouth. 

But the make-up couldn't disguise the baby fat on her face. She tried to 
look at Roi with sultry sexiness, but she only looked stupid. 

Roi sat behind his desk, puffing on a fat Havana cigar. Little trails of 
smoke curled up from the end of the cigar and spiraled across the ceiling. 

Roi asked the girl, "What's your name, honey?" 

She said, "Marilu, Mr. Hibbler." 

His voice sounded like distant thunder rumbling over the hill. Her voice was 
throaty and breathless. 

Roi asked, "How long have you been working for Grover?" 

""Bout four months, I guess," she said. 

"Like him?" 

"He's all right, I guess," she said unenthusiastically. 

"What about hooking?" Roi asked. "How do you like fucking for money?" 

Marilu didn't bat an eye. "It's okay. I don't see none of the money, 
though." 

"No," Roi laughed softly, "no, of course not." 

Marilu leaned forward. '"Course, the work ain't so bad sometimes, like when 
I get a real handsome man like you, Mr. Hibbler." 

Roi said, "Come . here, honey." 

Marilu got up from her chair and walked around Roi's desk. Her skirt was so 
short that the bottom of her black lace panties showed when she moved. 

She wriggled her plump little fanny as she came to him. She was a buxom 
handful of girl, but Roi didn't mind that. He liked it when his women had 
something to hold on to. 

Marilu stood to one side of him, waiting. Roi swung his swivel chair around 
so that he could face her. 

He said, "What part of Minnesota do you hail from, girl?" 

She was surprised. "How do you know that I come from Minnesota, Mr. 
Hibbler?" 

"I make it my business to know things like that." 

Marilu said, "I come from a place called Cob Crossing." 

"Miss it? Ever get homesick?" 

"Hell, no." Marilu's face twisted in bitter remembrance. "I hope that I 
never see that god-damned town again." 

Roi said, "Tell me, Marilu, what did Grover say to you about me?" 

"Nothing, Mr. Hibbler." 

"Come on," Roi smiled, "he must have said something." 

"Well," Marilu said, "he told me that I should be extra-nice to you, and do 
anything that you wanted me to do, no matter what it was." 

"Did he?" Roi said. "That was nice of him." Abruptly changing the subject, 
Roi asked the girl, "You ever had the clap, Marilu?" 

She blushed under her make-up. "No, sir, never!" 

"You wouldn't be telling me a, er, little white lie, would you, honey?" 

"No, sir," Marilu said definitely. "Althea that's Grover's main woman-she 
told me how to check out the Johns before I go to bed with them, so I can be 
sure that they're okay." 

"So you're a good, clean girl, is that right?" 

"Yes, sir." 

Roi put his cigar down in the ashtray. "Let me ask you another question, 
Marilu. Who put all that shit on your face?" 

"Huh?" 

"The make-up, child," Roi said gently. "Who put all that on you?" 

She said, "I put it on myself, 'cause Grover told me to. Usually Althea 
checks it out, but she's busy with a John this afternoon, and she wasn't 
around." 

Roi scowled. "That Grover always was one dumb motherfucker. That's why he's 
in the mess he's in now with me." 

Marilu looked crushed and dispirited. "Don't you like me, Mr. Hibbler?" 

"I like you fine, Marilu, just fine. I'm sure that there's a fine-looking 
girl under all that glop covering your face." 

She was puzzled. "I don't understand." 

Roi was feeling expansive, so he decided to elaborate. "Listen to me good, 
girl. I'm going to give you a valuable piece of free advice." 

He took a puff of his cigar, and let the smoke curl up out of his mouth. It 
gave him a Satanic look, but his eyes were kindly. 

He said, "Look at you. You have one of the best assets in the whore's 
arsenal, but you're throwing your advantage away. And you know what that 
asset is, Marilu?" 

"No, sir." 

"Youth," Roi said. "Youth and freshness. You're a young girl, fresh and 
relatively unspoiled. Now, your big-money John, he's not looking for a 
cheap, vulgar piece of tail that looks like a mattress-back whore. He wants 
a girl that's like his own sweet daughter at home, and his daughter's 
friends. You follow me?" 

"I-I think so," Marilu said. 

Roi continued, "The fact of the matter is, that most of these Johns really 
want to fuck their own daughters, only they haven't got the balls to do it. 
So when they go looking for a piece of ass, they want one that resembles 
their daughters as much as possible. They want a clean-cut, wholesome 
looking girl who fucks like the wildest whore." 

He went on, "Take me, for example. How many young whores you :think I've 
seen in my day?" 

Marilu forced a small smile. "A lot, I guess." 

"Hundreds," Roi said. "Maybe even a thousand. Now, if you want to turn on a 
man like me, you don't come in here looking like you just got done working 
the midnight shift on Eighth Avenue." 

"I thought that you'd like the way I look," Marilu said. "How should I have 
dressed?" 

Roi said, "You should have come in here looking like a sweet, fresh, 
wholesome high-school girl, all natural and untouched. Naturally, you've got 
to fuck the wildest whore in the business, but if you come on looking all 
innocent, that makes it even more of a turn-on." 

Marilu nodded seriously, to show that she understood what he was saying. "I 
follow you, Mr. Hibbler." 

Roi gestured across the office with his cigar. "There's a bathroom on the 
other side of that door, Marilu. Now, you go on in there, and get that shit 
washed off your face, and you hurry on back to me, you hear?" 

"Yes, sir!" Marilu walked briskly into the bathroom. There was the sound of 
running water as she turned on the taps in the sink. 

Roi sat back and smoked his cigar. When only the butt was left, he crushed 
it out in the big ashtray. 

Marilu emerged from the bathroom. Her face was scrubbed pink and shining. 
She had taken her false eyelashes off, and her lips were soft pink instead 
of the neon red that they had been. 

She said shyly, "Is this what you meant, Mr. Hibbler?" 

"Honey, that's exactly what I meant," Roi said. "When you look like that, 
all fresh and natural, you're going to pull a lot more higher-priced 
Johns-just see if you don't." 

He chuckled, "As a matter-of-fact, honey, you're starting to turn me on. 
Come a little closer." 

Marilu stood in front of him. Roi's thick-fingered hand undid the buttons of 
her see-through blouse and took i; off. 

Marilu wore a black lace bra. "That's cute," Roi said, "but it's a little 
too mature for you just yet. Youth is one of the biggest things that you've 
got going for you. There'll be time enough for all those sexy underthings 
later." 

"If you don't like it, Mr. Hibbler," she said, "then I'll take it off." 

Marilu reached behind her and unhooked her bra and took it off. She had a 
pair of big breasts, lush ripe mounds of flesh that a man wanted to bury his 
head between. 

Roi liked them big, and Marilu had one of the best sets of breasts that he 
had ever seen. Fortunately the girl was big-boned, so her oversized breasts 
didn't look freakish. But they were big. 

Roi said, "You better get the rest of those clothes off, honey. Strip for 
action." 

Marilu opened the fastening of her short skirt and slipped it off her hips. 
She had wide hips and a magnificently rounded bottom that made Roi's mouth 
water. 

Marilu tucked her thumbs in the top of her panties and unpeeled them from 
her hips. The scanty underpants drifted down her polished thighs and her 
shapely calves and fell around her booted ankles. 

Marilu stepped out of the panties. She had a thick, dark, curly pubic bush. 
Her hips were wide, and her belly was rounded. 

Roi said, "Take off the boots, honey." 

Marilu put out her hand against the edge of his desk to steady herself. She 
lifted her leg and unzipped her black leather boot down the side. 

She took off first one boot and then the other. Now she was completely 
naked. Her bare feet rested on the plush carpet. 

She stood in front of Roi with her hands at her sides. Roi stood up. He 
said, "Take down my pants." 

Marilu unbuckled his belt. She opened the top button of his trousers and 
pulled down his zipper. 

She gasped when she saw the size of his hard cock nestling against his 
undershorts. It looked like a length of cable, or iron pipe. 

Roi said, "I've got something for you, sugar." 

Marilu pulled down his shorts. Her eyes widened when she saw his big, bold, 
black cock. 

It was stiffly erect, and jutted out from his hips. The head of it was broad 
and swollen, and the shaft was long and thick. 

Roi's trousers and undershorts were clumped around his knees. He took off 
his jacket, and loosened his tie. 

He sat down on his swivel chair, his naked buttocks resting against the seat 
cushion. 

He said, "Now, you look like a sweet little girl, and that's no lie." 

He reached between her legs. Marilu parted her thighs. His fingers were as 
thick as sausages. 

He rubbed the lips of her pussy. Marilu shivered when he found her clitoris. 
His fingertip pressed the fleshy button. 

Roi massaged her clitoris until she was wet and juicy inside her cunt. He 
buried his middle finger in her up to the knuckle. 

Marilu was flushed and breathless. She held on to the desk to maintain her 
balance. His free hand fondled her breasts and teased her nipples erect. 

When she was wet enough, Roi took his finger out of her pussy. He held it in 
front of her face and said, "Suck your own juices, honey." 

Marilu wrapped her pink lips around his fat, strong finger. She sucked on it 
like it was a cock. She kept her eyes open and stared into his. 

"Enough." Roi took out his finger. It was wet with her saliva. He said, 
"Come here and sit on my lap facing me." 

Roi's black cock rose vertically from his hips like a bar of obsidian. 
Marilu climbed on to the chair so that her white legs hung outside his black 
ones. 

Roi wrapped his hands around her waist. By the strength of his arms alone, 
he lifted the girl in the air so that her bottom was above his cock. 

He lowered her. The head of his cock touched the softness of her pussy lips. 
He lowered her some more, and his cock head sank inside her lips. 

"Ahhhhhhhhhh...." Marilu gasped as Roi lowered her down on his cock. His 
black rod vanished from sight as it penetrated the girl. 

Marilu's mouth formed a wide, surprised O. Her eyes rolled back so that only 
the whites of them showed. 

She said, "Oh God, God! I can't-you won't fit inside me! You're too big!" 

"Relax," Roi chuckled. "I'll fit." 

He eased Marilu down on his pole. The muscles in his arms shifted and 
bulged, and the veins curled around them like constricting snakes. 

Finally, he was all the way inside Marilu's teenaged pussy. She was sitting 
on his lap with his huge length of black cock penetrating her. 

Roi had her just where he wanted her. Not only was his cock lodged firmly 
and fully inside her, but her breasts were in easy reach of his hands and 
mouth. 

He fastened his wide lips on her nipple and sucked on it. At the same time, 
he rocked her back and forth on his shaft. 

The springs of the chair squeaked and howled. Marilu squeaked and howled. 
She bounced on Roi's pole like a little girl riding a pogo stick. 

Now that he was fully inside her, her fear vanished and she fucked 
enthusiastically and wildly. Her chestnut brown hair bobbed around her 
shoulders and back. 

Roi fondled and rubbed and squeezed her breasts together. He licked them and 
sucked them. All the while, he kept on stroking with his hard cock. 

An artist would have loved the picture that the two of them made. Roi's 
ebony body sat on the chair, all the muscles of his Olympian physique taut 
and tensed. 

Marilu sat on his shaft, her ivory body sweating and blushing pink. The pink 
nipples of her bobbing, heaving breasts were hard and erect. 

White limbs intertwined with black ones as they fucked. Marilu's face was 
taut with the strain of the deep, vigorous penetration she was receiving. 

Suddenly, Roi stopped rocking and held her firmly in place. His cock 
quivered. All at once, a load of come erupted from the chocolate-brown tip 
of it. 

Marilu gasped and moaned as he came inside her. He seemed to come in quarts, 
as a huge quantity of come spewed out of his cock. 

Forgetting herself, she dug her nails into the layered muscles of his broad 
shoulders and clung to them for dear life. 

She moaned, "Oh, oh, oh!" 

Roi's broad hands left red marks where they gripped her white thighs. He fed 
her breast into his mouth and sucked her nipple. 

Marilu's head sagged and rested against his chest. She closed her eyes and 
moaned softly. 

After a moment, Roi eased her back into a sitting position. The girl's face 
was relaxed, all tension washed out by her orgasm. 

Roi kissed her nipples, then lifted her off her cock. There was a liquid 
sucking sound as his member worked free of her pink pussy. 

Marilu knelt at his feet on the carpet. She wrapped her arms around his legs 
and clung to them for a minute. 

Then, when she had recovered her breath sufficiently to speak, she said, "I 
know that you've heard a lot of bullshit from a lot of whores, Mr. Hibbler, 
but I'm not lying when I tell you that that was the best fuck that I ever 
had!" 

Roi fondled her breast. "I believe you, honey, I believe you. And you're not 
too bad yourself, little girl. You're kind of sweet." 

"I'll show you how sweet I can be!" Marilu groped for his cock and took it 
in her hands. "Jesus, you're still hard!" 

She started to stuff his cock into her mouth, but Roi gently restrained her. 

Puzzled, Marilu said, "Don't you want me to go down on you, Mr. Hibbler? I 
give really great head, honest!" 

"I'm sure that you do," Roi said, "and I'll certainly give you the 
opportunity to prove your skills in a little while." 

He stood up. He stuffed his stillerect cock into his undershorts, and pulled 
up his pants. He had a great deal of difficulty closing the zipper. 

There was a number of items on his desktop-a blotter, gold pen set, 
paperweights, folders, and various other office items. 

With one broad sweep of his massive arm, he cleared the desktop of 
everything that was on it. 

Marilu was frightened by his sudden outburst of violence. Roi smiled in a 
kindly fashion and patted the desktop. 

He said, "Don't worry, Marilu. I'm not going to hurt you. Now, I want you to 
climb right up here on this desk." 

Marilu did as she was told. Her buttocks left round wet marks of 
perspiration on the polished wood of the desk. 

Roi rested his hands on her breasts. His palms were seamed and colored a 
lighter brown than the rest of his body. 

He pushed her backwards so that she was lying on her back on the desk. It 
was so big that she was able to fit on it without her legs hanging over the 
side. 

He said, "Do you play with your pussy, Marilu?" 

"No, sir," she said solemnly. "Grover and Althea don't let any of the girls 
play with themselves. They give us a real ass-whipping if they catch us 
doing it." 

"But you do it when you can get away with it, don't you?" 

"Well ... " 

"Come on, Marilu, don't try to bullshit a bull-shitter. You do play with 
your pussy when you know that you can get away with it, don't you?" 

"Yes, sir." 

Roi smiled. "Of course you do. Now, I want you to show me how you play with 
yourself. Do it so you make me real hot." 

Marilu said, "I don't start by feeling my pussy first. I start by rubbing 
and squeezing my titties." 

"Go ahead," Roi said. 

Marilu cupped her breasts, lifted, and separated them. She pushed them 
together and then fondled the large white mounds of flesh. 

She put her hands over her breasts so that her nipples peeked out from 
between the fingers. She opened and closed her fingers, pinching the 
nipples. 

When they were stiff and erect, Marilu let one hand slip down her belly to 
her pussy. It rubbed the gleaming lips of her cunt. 

A few drops of Roi's come dripped out of her pussy and fell onto the 
brightly polished desk. 

Marilu searched out her clitoris with skillful ease. The clitoris was red 
and irritated from the fucking that she had just gotten. 

Her fingers rubbed against her clitoris, moving faster and faster until they 
were a blur of motion. 

Marilu rubbed stimulation into her body with each passing second. Soon she 
was red-faced and breathless. 

She began to writhe and thrash on the top of the desk. She made little 
moaning sounds as her fingers played with her clitoris. 

Roi said approvingly, "Lovely ... just lovely. 

You keep on doing what you're doing, Marilu, and don't stop no matter what." 

Marilu hardly needed any encouragement. There was a pale pink flush on her 
jiggling breasts and her belly. 

Roi pushed the button of his inter-office communicator. He spoke into the 
voice box, saying, "Send in Webb, Truck. And come in yourself." 

"Okay, boss," Truck's voice replied over the sound machine. 

Marilu's hand stopped moving over her pussy. She turned her head and looked 
fearfully at Roi. 

He patted her hip. "Don't stop now, honey." 

She licked her lips nervously. "Grover isn't going to like this, Mr. 
Hibbler." 

"Do you like it, Marilu?" 

"Yes, sir, I surely do, but-" 

Roi said, "Well, if you like it, and I like watching you do it, then who 
gives a fuck what Grover likes?" 

"He won't do anything now, Mr. Hibbler, 'cause he's afraid of you," Marilu 
said. "But as soon as he gets me alone, he'll give me an awful 
ass-whipping." 

Roi's chuckle sounded like the crash of distant artillery. "Grover Webb 
ain't going to o shit, and that's a promise, honey. Now, you get busy and 
keep on playing with your pussy, just like you were doing. You're working 
for me, now." 

A moment later, Roi threw the switch that unlocked the door to his office. A 
lot of people in New York would have liked to see him dead, and he didn't 
take any chances. 

His number-one bodyguard, Truck Timmons, escorted Grover Webb into the room. 
Truck was six foot six, and weighed two hundred and forty-five pounds, all 
of it muscle. 

Grover Webb was a neat, compact, chocolate-colored man. He had a tightly 
cropped Afro, and a pencil-thin moustache. 

He dressed more like a stockbroker than a whoremonger. His only sign of 
flamboyance was his gold watch and the diamond ring on his pinky. 

Grover scowled when he saw Marilu lying on the desk with her fingers flying 
over her pussy, but he quickly recovered and put a bland mask of pleasant 
insincerity on Ms face. 

Truck was less controlled. The sight of the naked white teenager writhing on 
the desk caused his eyes to bulge, and his cock soon followed. He said, 
"GAWD DAMN!" 

Marilu was somewhat intimidated by the entrance of the two men, particularly 
Grover, who quite literally owned her ass. 

She had been a youthful runaway from Minnesota when she stepped off the bus 
in the Port Authority bus terminal in New York City four months ago. 

It had been cold and dark. She had about five dollars in her pocket, the 
only money she had left after buying a ticket from Minnesota to the Big 
Apple. 

She was frightened and confused and didn't know what to do next. 
Fortunately, or so she thought at the time, a kindly stranger had come up to 
her and assisted her. 

The stranger's name was Tony Parrow. He was incredibly handsome, a black 
Adonis, with an athlete's body and movie star good looks. 

He had a smooth line that was the result of much practice. Because what the 
naive runaway couldn't have known was that Tony Parrow was a recruiter for 
one of the biggest pimps in the city, Grover Webb. 

In fact, the bus terminal was Tony's happy hunting ground, and no hunter 
suddenly spying a doe in a wooded clearing could have been happier than Tony 
was to see young Marilu walking around bewilderedly in the terminal. 

Tony charmed her with his smooth line of jive. She looked hungry, so he 
bought her dinner. Marilu was famished, and wolfed it down. 

Tony Parrow asked her if she had a place to crash. When she said that she 
didn't, he offered her the use of the couch at his place. 

Marilu had never seen an apartment as beautiful as his. It was just the kind 
of glamour that she had come to the big city to find. 

Of course, Tony fucked her that very same night. He didn't have to force the 
girl, since she wanted to show her gratitude to him in the best way that she 
knew how. 

Marilu wasn't a virgin, but the few adolescent boys from her high school who 
had groped her in the back seats of their cars were mere youthful fumblers 
compared to a skilled cocksman like Tony Parrow. 

Tony fucked her long, and deep, and hard. He fucked her like she had never 
been fucked before. 

By the time that dawn came, there wasn't anything that she wouldn't have 
done for Tony. But Tony waited a few days before calling in his debt. 

He knew enough to let the fish have some line before reeling it in for the 
kill. 

Tony told her that it was time that she started pulling her weight, that he 
couldn't support her forever. 

He said that he wanted her to fuck a friend of his. Marilu cried and tried 
to run away from him. Tony had to give her a beating to bring her into line. 

Later that night, three friends of his came over to the apartment. They were 
two black dudes and a Hispanic. 

Tony helped them tie to Marilu to the bed. All night and into the morning of 
the next day, the four of them took turns raping her. 

They fucked her in her pussy, her mouth, and her ass. Sometimes one of them 
would stick his cock in her mouth while somebody else stuck his cock in her 
pussy at the same time. 

In between taking turns raping her, the four men smoked reefers and drank 
wine and sniffed cocaine. 

By the time they finished with her, Marilu was broken in, and didn't give 
Tony Parrow any trouble. 

A month later, he sold her to Grover Webb. She was a full-fledged, 
professional whore. 

Grover had taken her into his stable. He had a squad of five white hookers, 
three black hookers, and an Oriental hooker. 

Grover was a real sadist, and Marilu longed for the days when she had had it 
easy with Tony Parrow. 

Tony would only beat her when she wouldn't obey him, and when he did, he 
used his open hand or sometimes a belt. 

But Grover had all kinds of whips and canes and rods that he loved to use on 
Marilu's plump backside. He used the slightest mistake of hers as an excuse 
for tying her up, whipping her, and degrading her. 

Graver's main woman was Althea. She was a black Amazon who was his 
lieutenant and basically ran the girls and attended to the day-to-day 
details of the business. 

She was just as cruel as Grover. Many times Marilu's bound body thrashed 
under the stinging lash of her whips, while her mouth was gagged to muffle 
her screams. 

But Grover was in trouble with Roi Hibbler, big, big trouble. It took her a 
while, but Marilu finally pieced together the details. 

Grover had connections at the track, and had been betting big bucks. The 
races he bet on were fixed, and for a while he had won heavily. 

Then, thinking that he had a sure thing, he had put all his money on a horse 
that he had been assured couldn't lose. 

Not only that, but he had taken the money which he was supposed to use to 
pay off Roi for protection, and put that on the horse, too. 

Well, the horse had finished first, and Grover heaved a sigh of relief and 
prepared to collect his winnings. 

Then an announcement came over the track loudspeaker telling bettors to hold 
on to their tickets, as the race was in dispute. 

Grover almost had a heart attack when the announcement came on a few minutes 
later. Although his horse had indeed finished first, the jockey had fouled 
another rider, and so the horse had been disqualified. 

That put Grover on the hot seat. Not only had he dropped a bundle, but he 
was also into Roi Hibbler's organization for a heavy sum. 

Grover was sweating. He was a pimp, but Roi was a mob chieftain who could 
put fifty killers on the street with a phone call. 

Grover had to go with his hat in his hands and humbly request that Roi give 
him an extension on his debt. 

He had brought Marilu with him. He knew that Roi liked them young and 
stacked, and Marilu qualified in both regards. 

He also knew that Roi liked to fuck white girls, and here again Marilu was 
qualified. So he had sent Marilu into Roi's office to lay him while he, 
Grover, waited in the reception room under the grim eyes of Truck Timmons, 
Roi's top enforcer. 

The idea was that Marilu would give Roi one hell of a fuck, and the big man 
would be in a more mellow frame of mind to discuss Grover's debt. 

But Grover sure as hell hadn't expected to walk in and see his young whore 
stretched out on Roi's desk, playing with herself and writhing and moaning 
and heaving with loud moans of desire. 

Grover was cool as a cucumber, though. After his initial scowl of 
displeasure, he fought down his anger and grinned away as though he couldn't 
be more pleased to see his young white whore humping herself in public. 

Marilu wasn't fooled, though. She knew that he was pissed as hell. She 
turned her head to one side so she could smirk at him. 

Then she plunged her fingers back into her dripping pussy. Her fingers 
worked rapidly as they rubbed erotic heat into her pearly clitoris. 

Yeah, go ahead and have your fun now, bitch, Grover thought to himself. 
Wait'll I get you home. Me. and Althea will whip you so hard, that your body 
will be striped like a fucking tiger! 

Truck Timmons didn't bother to cover his reaction. He had the natural ease 
of a man who always stands a head taller than anybody else in the crowd. 

The long-barreled .44 magnum tucked into his shoulder holster looked like a 
toy gun under his arm. The gun was almost unnecessary. Truck could clean out 
a bar full of the toughest guys in town with his bare hands, and had. 

He licked his lips as he saw Marilu exciting herself. His cock uncoiled like 
a black snake and pushed out the front of his pants. 

While one of her hands rubbed her clitoris, the other one pinched her 
nipples until they were as red as the cherries on a mound of whipped cream 
topping off a sundae. 

Roi sat behind his desk and idly stroked the girl's trembling thighs. He 
smiled benevolently, like a black Buddha. 

Trucker said, "Gawd! Now that's what I call taking care of business, boss!" 

"Yeah," Roi said. "It's the latest in office furniture." 

Speaking loudly so he could be heard over Marilu's moans of pleasure, Grover 
said, "Glad to see you're enjoying yourself, Roi. Now, about that loan-" 

Roi's smile dissolved, and his face was as cold and expressionless as a 
cinder block. "That's Mr. Hibbler to you, punk." 

Picking up his cue, Truck squared his shoulders and glared down at Grover. 
"Yeah, motherfucker, show some respect." 

Frightened by the suddenly ominous atmosphere in the room, Marilu stopped 
playing with herself. Her face was shiny with sweat, causing strands of her 
hair to stick to her forehead. 

Roi patted her hip reassuringly. "Don't you stop, darling. I like to see you 
enjoy yourself, honey. Keep on keeping on." 

"Uh-huh," Trucker breathed, "don't stop now, mama!" 

"Thank you, Mr. Hibbler," Marilu said breathlessly. "It's a pleasure to meet 
a real gentleman for a change!" 

"We are few and far between," Roi agreed. He picked up a fresh cigar and 
walked over to Grover. 

He bit off the end of his cigar and spat it on the floor. He was being 
deliberately crude to unnerve Grover, who he hadn't much liked even before 
the pimp had owed him money. 

Roi said, "You know what a gentleman is, punk?" 

Grover knew they were sounding him. He also knew that this was one time when 
showing the smallest bit of anger could be hazardous to his health-and 
possibly fatal. 

So he smiled and said in his insurance salesman's baritone, "I think I know 
what a gentleman is, Mr. Hibbler, sir." 

Hibbler jabbed the cigar at him. "A gentleman is a guy who gives his word 
and stands by it. You promised that you were going to have my cash. Now, you 
come crying to me that you don't have it. You know what that makes you in my 
book?" 

"No, sir, I don't," Grover said. 

"It makes you a four-flushing, trick-talking, jive-ass motherfucking 
weasel-faced welcher," Roi said. 

Truck slammed a fist into Grover's stomach. 

"You hear that, chump?" Truck roared. 

"I'm sorry you feel that way, Mr. Hibbler," Grover said. 

Roi said, "Give me one reason, just one, why my boys shouldn't blow your 
damned head off and stuff you in a sewer." 

"Shit, boss," Truck said, "just give me the word, and I'll do the job right 
now. And I won't need no gun, either. I'll just twist his head off his 
motherfucking shoulders!" 

Grover cleared his throat nervously. "You can't collect money from a dead 
man, Mr. Hibbler." 

"True," Roi conceded. "But maybe it'd be worth it to me to snuff you for the 
publicity value. Might make the rest of them deadbeats pay up, if they see 
what you get." 

Grover said, "You're a businessman, Mr. Hibbler, so you'll understand me 
when I say that it isn't good business for you to kill me." 

"Keep talking," Roy snarled. 

Grover said, "In less than two weeks, the big political convention is coming 
to town. There's going to be thousands of delegates, and all kinds of 
big-shot politicians, senators and congressmen and all that." 

"So what?" 

"So, when the convention business is over for the day, they're going to be 
looking for what I've got," Grover said. "They're going to be looking to get 
laid." 

"Go on," Roi said skeptically. 

"My whores'll bring in big bucks during the convention," Grover said. "All 
I'm asking you for is to give me until the end of the convention to pay off 
my debt. After that, if I don't pay-you can do what you like." 

Roi rasped, "I always do what I like, motherfucker, and don't you ever 
forget that." 

"Yeah, motherfucker." Truck stuck his face an inch away from Graver's and 
menacingly bared his teeth at him. 

"Sorry, Mr. Hibbler," Grover apologized lamely. "That was an unfortunate 
choice of words." 

Roi was deep in thought for a moment. All that could be heard in the room 
was the sound of Marilu's fast-coming moans. 

Finally, Roi said, "All right. You bought yourself some time, boy. You've 
got until the end of the convention to pay me in full." 

"Thanks a million, Mr. Hibbler," Grover said. "I swear that you won't regret 
this." 

"If I do," Roi said, "you're going to regret it a whole hell of a lot worse, 
sucker." 

Truck added, "I'm going to be all over your ass, chump. So don't get no 
ideas about blowing town. You could get your head blown off that way." 

Roi dismissed Grover with a wave of his cigar. "Get out of my face, pimp. 
I'm sick of looking at you." 

"Yes, sir, Mr. Hibbler," Grover said. "Thanks again, sir. You're all heart. 
And take your time with Marilu. I'll send my car over for her when you're 
through with her." 

Roi chuckled. "Don't hold your breath waiting, punk." 

"Excuse me, sir?" 

"That little girl doesn't belong to you anymore," Roi said. "You don't 
deserve her. I'm keeping her. She makes me feel like a young man again. 
Anyway, you ain't getting her back, so hit the road, chump." 

"Really, sir, that's not fair," Grover said. "I'll be glad to send you 
another one of my whores, but I've put a lot of time and work into this 
girl, and I-" 

Roi stared at him in mock surprise. "You're still here? You better hit the 
road and get your ass in gear, boy. You've got to make a lot of money for me 
between now and the end of convention time, and the clock is already 
ticking." 

Grover sputtered, "But-but-" 

"Your motor's running," Roi said. "Go run it somewhere else. Show him the 
door, Truck." 

Grover shouted helplessly as Truck lifted him by the seat of his pants and 
propelled him toward the door. 

Roi said, "Better open the door first, Truck. This boy's got to stay healthy 
and whole to make me back my money." 

"Right, boss," Truck said disappointedly. Holding Grover with one hand, he 
opened the door with the other. 

He pitched Grover into the outer office. There was the sound of a loud 
clattering, followed by Grover's wail. 

A moment later, Truck came back into the office, briskly rubbing his hands. 
"He's gone, boss." 

"Good," Roi said. "Now, you go, too. And keep an eye on him, Truck. I don't 
want him leaving town with my money." 

"Right on, boss." Truck stared at Marilu thrashing on the desk top. He said, 
"You sure you don't want me to stay, boss?" 

"Go!" 

Truck went, closing the door behind him. 

Roi went over to Marilu. The girl's nubile body was oiled and gleaming with 
sweat. Her eyes were glazed as she looked up at him. 

She breathed, "Gee, thanks, Mr. Hibbler! Thanks a million!" 

Roi took her hand out of her pussy and inserted his own. He said, "Damn! You 
are a juicy little girl, and that's no lie." 

He took down his pants. Marilu licked her lips when she saw his cock 
thrusting out all proud and rigid. 

Roi said, "We can't let all that sweet, dripping pussy go to waste, now can 
we?" 

"No, sir!" Marilu said. 

Roi's pants dropped around his ankles. He climbed right on top of his desk, 
and on top of Marilu. 

His long, black cock thrust into her pink pussy. His rod glided along the 
slippery sleek walls of her cunt, leaving her breathless and gasping with 
pleasure. 

Marilu wrapped her arms around his wide back. He laid his head on her chest 
and took her nipple into his mouth and sucked it while he fucked her. 

 CHAPTER TWO 

Fear makes men dangerous-often, to themselves. In Grover Webb's case, 
however, his fear was having a ripple effect, and spreading throughout his 
little crime family. 

Grover put the spurs to his bottom woman, Althea, to the whores in his 
stable, and to his recruiters and procurers. 

Grover was sweating, bad. He knew that if he didn't come up with Roi 
Hibbler's cash, he was liable to wind up as a cornerstone in one of Roi's 
construction projects. 

So Grover put the heat on all his people. That was why even a cool-nerved 
and savvy operator like Tony Parrow was acting more recklessly than usual. 

Tony Parrow was trying to recruit new girls for the stable. The trouble was, 
it took a few days to break in a new whore. 

He didn't have much time left before the convention deadline. And, since he 
liked to break the whores in personally, he had to hustle twice as much. 

Tony was getting desperate. He couldn't supply the usual sides of meat to 
the convention delegates. There was a surplus of pimps and whores in this 
town, and if he couldn't come up with some gorgeous girls, there were plenty 
of others who would. 

Tony was amazed at his good fortune, then, when he came out of an 
after-hours club at ten o'clock one morning, and saw a beautiful blonde girl 
standing on the street corner. 

Tony leaned against the wall, and rubbed his eyes to make sure that he 
wasn't dreaming. He had been drinking since three AM the previous night. 

He was standing near an intersection in the center of the black community.. 
It was early, but already it was hot as hell. 

Some kids down the block had opened a fire hydrant, and were running around 
the surging spray of water. 

The sky was sullen and overcast. Those pedestrians who were going to work 
were carrying umbrellas. It was humid and steamy and noisy. 

The blonde girl stood on the sidewalk, seemingly untouched by the heat and 
the squalor. Tony took a good look at her. 

She was something to see. She was tall and young and fine and foxy. She had 
a mass of golden hair, and Tony's practiced eye could tell that she was a 
natural blonde. 

She had the face of an angel and a wicked body. She was wearing a pair of 
name-brand designer jeans that must have cost sixty or seventy dollars. 

Tony grinned to himself. The bitch probably thought that she was dressing up 
like poor folks by coming uptown in her jeans. 

Those were some jeans. They hugged her heart-shaped ass and looked like they 
had been spray-painted on her long, strong legs. 

She wore a short-sleeved blouse. Her hair was pinned up to the top of her 
head in a prim, business-like fashion. 

She had a portable tape player slung on a strap across her shoulder, and she 
seemed to be speaking into its handheld microphone. 

She wasn't alone, though. That would create complications. She had some 
white chump with her. He was a pudgy, balding, sweaty joker in a sportshit 
and slacks who carried an expensive camera and a carrying case. 

Tony shook his head. He could almost feel sorry for the pair of strangers 
who had ventured into alien turf. Almost. 

An old wino was pestering the couple. He had a shapeless suit that had seen 
too many summers, and a battered hat jammed on his head. 

Tony Parrow examined his reflection in the plate glass window of a store. He 
tucked his shirt tails into his pants, tightened his belt, and brushed some 
dirt off his shirt. 

He had looked better, but he knew that he always looked good. He could pass 
muster. 

Next, he did a very important thing. He looked up and down the block to see 
if there were any cops in sight. 

They weren't. That was good. He didn't want any cop being able to remember 
him later. 

He set off toward the couple with a springy stride in his step. A trio of 
middle-aged black ladies were standing around, waiting for a bus. 

They kept glancing out of the corner of their eyes at the white chick and 
her buddy. The ladies were resentful of this intrusion into their territory. 

Tony didn't resent it, though. To him it was like a gift from the gods. 

As he approached the couple from the rear, he could hear the wino hassling 
them. The old bum was dancing around them with his open palm held out. 

The wino was saying, "I'm a church-goer, a decent, god-fearing man, I have 
been all my life, I'm just down on my luck, I just need some financial 
assistance, that's all-" 

Tony came up to the wino. He started to put his arm around the old man's 
shoulders, but when he saw the ratty condition of his jacket, he kept his 
hand to himself. 

Tony passed the wino a dollar bill and said, "Here you go, Pops. Go buy 
yourself something to drink, okay?" 

The wino pocketed the money and started to walk off. Then he turned around 
and started back toward the white couple. 

Tony intercepted him and stood in his way, blocking his path. Still smiling, 
Tony said, "Where you going, Pops?" 

The wino gestured toward the white couple. "They got money." 

Tony shook his head. "Not for you." 

"Bullshit." 

Lowering his voice so that only the wino could hear him, Tony said, "Look, 
you old motherfucker, you better get the fuck out of here before I have to 
jump in your face." 

"What?!" 

"You heard me, you old piece of shit. Don't try to fuck with me, just get 
the fuck out of here before I stick a knife down your throat." 

The wino's eyes widened. The whites around his eyes were yellow, with 
bloodshot red veins. He turned around and shambled off rapidly in the other 
direction. 

Slapping a sappy, ingratiating smile on his face, Tony went over to the 
white couple. The blonde seemed friendly but guarded, while the man viewed 
him with obvious mistrust. 

"Good morning," Tony said. 

The blonde, who happened to be Joan Farmingdale, the Senator's assistant, 
said, "Hi." The photographer grunted. 

Tony said, "I hope that Pops wasn't bothering you all too bad." 

"Oh no, not at all," Joan said. 

"He's an okay old man, but he can be a pest sometimes," Tony said. Looking 
at the camera and tape recorder, he said, "Hey, are you a reporter?" 

Joan said, "No, I'm not." 

"You ain't no policewoman, are you?" 

Joan laughed softly, showing some of her teeth. "No, of course not." 

Tony grinned back. He had a sunny, good-natured, likable grin, and he could 
use it to good effect in disarming women. 

He said, "No, I didn't think that you could be no policewoman. Not as 
good-looking as you are." 

"Thank you," Joan smiled. 

"So, what are you all doing uptown?" 

"I'm doing a kind of, well, I guess you could call it a research project," 
Joan said. "I'm doing a report on conditions up here." 

"You a student?" Tony asked. "Or maybe one of those social workers?" 

"Something like that," Joan said, not wanting to identify her connection 
with the Senator. She felt that the locals would talk more readily to her if 
she didn't seem to be a part of the white power structure. 

Tony said, "Are you trying to help the folks around here?" 

"I'm trying," Joan said, "but nobody seems very cooperative. I mean, nobody 
wants to stop and be interviewed." 

"I'm talking to you, ain't I?" Tony demanded. 

"Why, yes, you are." 

"See, what you got to understand is the way folks are in this turf," Tony 
said. "They don't like to be talking to no strangers. They've been sold out 
and double-crossed so many times, that they don't trust no white folks." 

The photographer said, "Uh, hey, Joan, we've still got a lot more canvassing 
to do." Tony said, "That's your name? Joan?" 

"Yes," she said. 

"Tony," he said. He held out his hand, and she shook it. He shook hands with 
the photographer, too. The picture-taker's hand was sweaty. 

Tony said, "Now, if you all want to know what's really going on, you got to 
talk to the people who know." 

Joan confessed, "Nobody seems to want to talk to us." 

"That's 'cause they don't know where you're coming from," Tony said. "Now 
me, I can tell that you're concerned, that you're the kind of folks who give 
a damn." 

"I like to think so," Joan said. 

Tony said, "I know a lot of folks who could fill up that tape recorder of 
yours with all kinds of stories about the corruption and the graft and the 
police brutality that goes on every day." 

Joan asked, "Do you think that they would talk to me?" 

"Probably not, Joan," the photographer said. 

"They'd talk if I said that you were okay," Tony Parrow said. "Folks around 
here know me and trust me. Yeah, I could get you some true-life stories that 
would melt down that tape recorder, they so hot." 

"That would be super if you could," Joan said. 

Tony said, "Just follow me, and I'll lead you to them." 

Joan said, "Great!" 

The photographer said, "Joan, can I talk to you for a minute?" 

He took Joan by the arm and led her to one side. Tony saw that the man was 
arguing some point, but Joan was shaking her head. ' Finally, the 
photographer said, "Okay, Joan, you're the boss." 

"That's right," Joan said, sweetly but firmly. "Tony, if you'd take us to 
those people, we'd be ever so grateful." 

"It will be my pleasure," Tony said suavely. 

They followed Tony for a couple of blocks. The wary photographer seemed to 
relax somewhat when he saw that they were going into a busier part of the 
community, rather than a more deserted one. 

They halted at a bar called the Lemon Peel. Tony said, "I have to go in and 
make a few phone calls. Come on in and have some liquid-type refreshments." 

He stood on the threshold of the bar while Joan and the photographer 
hesitated on the sidewalk. 

"Come on," he said with a smile. "Hey, you ain't afraid to go in a black 
people's bar, are you?" 

"Certainly not," Joan said. 

The trio went into the bar. It was dark as a cave, and lit at intervals with 
smoky red lights. The juke box was playing some dreamy ballad with lots of 
falsetto singing and string arrangements. 

The bar wasn't too crowded at this hour, but everyone that was in it turned 
to look at the new arrivals. 

Joan and the photographer seemed as out of place as a pair of Martians. 

Everybody saw Tony Parrow, and they turned around and went back to their 
business and didn't say a word. 

They knew Tony, and they knew that it was bad business to fuck with him. It 
was known that Tony packed a gun, and wasn't afraid to use it. 

Tony sat Joan and the photographer down in a back booth. He asked them what 
they were drinking. After getting their orders straight, he went to the bar. 

The bartender was a squat man, built like a fireplug. His knuckles were 
covered with scar tissue, and a colorless scar ran down the side of his 
face. 

He told the bartender the order. While he was making a bourbon and water for 
the photographer, Tony said, "Give this drink that special something extra, 
bro'." 

The bartender, who knew Tony well, croaked in a frog-like voice, "What's in 
it for me?" 

"Fifty dollars," Tony said. "And that camera's got to be worth a couple 
hundred. Not to mention all them fancy lenses in the case." 

"What the fuck am I gonna do with a fuckin' camera?" 

"You can shove it up your ass, for all I care," Tony said, "but if you're 
smart, you'll sell it for some quick bucks." 

"Gimme the fifty now." 

Tony reached into his pocket. He carried a fat roll of bills. He peeled off 
a fifty and handed it over to the bartender, who made it disappear in his 
own pocket. 

The bartender reached under the bar and took out a tiny glass vial filled 
with a colorless liquid. He poured four drops of the liquid into the bourbon 
and water. 

He said, "What you want me to do with the chump after he goes to sleep?" 

Tony said, "Have a couple of the boys leave him out in the alley. Take his 
wallet and his pants. That way, he's just one more chump who came uptown 
looking for some black tail who got taken." 

"I hear you," the bartender said. 

Tony took the drinks back to the table. He sat down and chatted pleasantly 
while Joan and the photographer sipped their drinks. 

Tony said, "It's all set. I was just talking to some people I know who can 
tell you plenty about who the big-name politicians who are slumlords." 

The knockout drug started to go to work on the photographer immediately. His 
face got red and he yawned many times. 

Joan said wisely, "It looks like you've been burning the midnight oil too 
much." 

"Gee, I can't figure it out," the photographer said, yawning again. "I must 
be more tired than I thought." 

After a few more minutes, his head began to droop and nod. He mumbled, " ... 
Not sleeping, just want to close my eyes for a minute ... " 

He closed his eyes. His head lolled and sagged against his chest. He opened 
his mouth and began to snore. 

Joan put her hand on his arm to wake him up, but Tony said, "Why don't you 
let him get some sleep?" 

Joan said, "I'm really eager to talk to some of those people you know." 

Tony pushed back his chair. "Let's go, then. It ain't far from here." 

Pointing at the photographer, Joan asked, "What about him?" 

"What about him? It's better if he stays here. These people be willing to 
talk into your tape player, but they don't want their pictures taken. Your 
friend will be fine here, and we'll be back in less than a half-hour." 

"I guess there's no point in disturbing him. He seems exhausted." Joan 
pushed back her chair and shouldered her pocket book. "Oh well, what the 
heck." 

"That's the spirit," Tony said. 

He took Joan by the arm and led her through the bar to the front door. A 
couple of jokers that he knew winked and gave him the high sign, but Tony 
kept a straight face. 

They went from the cool, air-conditioned interior of the bar to the muggy, 
choking heat of the city. 

Joan said, "I hope that it's not far." 

"No, it's just a couple of blocks," Tony said. 

After ten minutes of walking, he and Joan came to a seedy hotel. The windows 
were grimy and covered with torn curtains, and the very building seemed to 
be sagging on its foundations. 

Tony said, "This is the place. This brother that I know lives here. He used 
to work for the Sanitation department, until he started protesting about the 
corruption. Then they fired his ass." 

"That's terrible," Joan said. 

"Yeah. He wouldn't go along with the graft and the corruption, so now he 
ain't got no job. But he's got plenty to talk about, if he wants to talk." 

They went inside the building. The lobby looked like it had been abandoned 
fifty years ago. A standing ashtray urn had been tipped over, spilling sand 
on the threadbare carpet. 

Joan seemed to shrink into herself, as though she feared contamination from 
the place. 

An ancient crone was sitting motionlessly in one of the lobby chairs. She 
was wrinkled and toothless and shapeless. She was so still that at first 
Joan thought that she was dead. 

Then the old crone opened her yellow eyes and peered out murkily like a 
crocodile sunning itself. 

The man sitting behind the hotel desk had a round, coffee-colored face and a 
pointed goatee. He was overweight and sweating. 

He knew Tony. He looked up from the skin magazine that he was reading and 
stared dully at Tony as he approached. 

Then he looked over Tony's shoulder and saw the woman. The desk man licked 
his lips. 

He said to Tony, "I guess you be wanting the usual?" 

"That's right," Tony said. 

Tony peeled off a fifty and slipped it to the desk man. Joan didn't even see 
the transaction. 

The desk man shook his head. "Not fifty. It's too risky for fifty dollar. 
The price has gone up to a hundred." 

Tony said, "You going to be going down-down in a hole in the ground inside a 
coffin, if you try to squeeze me, sucker." 

The desk man said, "For you, the price remains at fifty, of course." 

Tony said, "That's more like it. Here's another twenty for your trouble. We 
don't want to be disturbed no matter what. Things might get a little, er, 
noisy up there, but it ain't nothing, so don't pay it no bother." 

"Ain't no bother," the desk man said. "I got you a room up on the sixth 
floor, at the end of the hall. Hardly nobody up there." 

The desk man stared at Joan, who was studiously looking at the walls. He 
said, "Damn! You getting some of that?" 

"That's too heavyweight for you, junior," Tony laughed. "You'd best stick to 
what you know, son. Now, gimme the room key." 

The desk man palmed a key and slid it across the counter to Tony. Tony 
palmed it and went over to Joan. 

He said, "My friend isn't feeling too well today. He didn't want to see you, 
but I talked him into it, as a personal favor." 

Tony took her arm and led her to the stairs. He said, "We're going to have 
to climb up to the sixth floor. The elevator here ain't worked for twenty 
years." 

They started climbing the flights of steps. The walls were cracked and 
peeling, and paint chips littered the stairs. 

There was all kinds of trash piled up on the landings, garbage, empty wine 
bottles, used condoms, and even a discarded eye dropper which had been used 
for shooting dope. 

When they reached the fifth floor, a young woman hurried out on the landing. 
Her flesh was a deep, rich brown. 

She was tall and thin, with long, stilt-like legs and small breasts. She had 
a high, rounded ass a big bushy Afro hair style. 

She wore a tube top which just about covered her pointed nipples, a pair of 
red satin hot pants, and Greek-style sandals with thongs that wound up along 
her shins. 

She was tucking some cash into her pocket. When she saw Tony and Joan, she 
slowed down and stared at them, a cynical, knowing expression on her face. 

Tony said, "What you looking at, sister?" 

"Nothing, man, nothing," she said. She giggled as she hurried down the 
stairs. 

When she was gone, Tony shook his head sadly. "Poor child. The only way for 
her to make a dollar is by selling her body." 

"That's terrible!" Joan said, shocked. 

"Ain't it?" Tony said. "But here we are at the sixth floor. My man's room is 
down at the end of the hall." 

The sixth floor hall was dark and dim even in the daylight. The pungent 
aroma of urine hung heavily in the air. Joan wrinkled her nostrils in 
distaste. 

Tony unlocked the door. He explained, "My man's got a bum leg, so the desk 
man keeps an extra key for him down front. Saves him the trouble of walking 
up and down all them stairs." 

Tony peered into the room. He flicked on the light switch. The room was 
empty except for a bed, a chair, and a chest of drawers. 

Pretending that he was talking to someone inside, Tony said, "Hey, bro', 
good to see you! I brung someone that wants to talk to you, if that's okay. 
It is? Dynamite!" 

Tony turned to Joan. "He'll talk. Come on in." 

He held the door open for Joan. She stepped boldly into the room, then 
slowed when she saw that no one was inside it. 

Tony Parrow stepped into the room. He stood between Joan and the door. 

Joan said, "There's nobody here!" 

"Sure there is," Tony chuckled. "You, and me." 

He shut and locked the door. Joan whirled around when she heard the lock 
click into place. 

She demanded, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?" 

Tony said, "What the fuck does it look like I'm doing, bitch?" 

Joan started for the door. She was keeping up a brave front, but it was 
crumbling with each passing second. 

She realized that she had been very stupid indeed to allow herself to be 
lured up here all alone. 

She said tightly, "Please get out of my way." 

"No." 

"If you don't let me out of this room this very second, I'm going to 
scream." 

"Go ahead," Tony said. "The suckers in this hotel will only turn up their 
radios and TVs louder." 

Joan took a deep breath. She opened her mouth to let out a piercing scream. 

Tony reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a switchblade knife. His 
thumb pressed down on the little metal button in the handle. 

A wickedly sharp blade sprang out of the knife. Joan's eyes widened, and she 
aborted the scream which she had planned to deliver. 

She staggered a little, like she was stunned. Her voice came in a breathless 
gasp. "Is-is this some kind of joke?" 

Tony smiled evilly. "I think it's funny as hell, but you might not." 

Joan pleaded, ."You can have all my money. Just let me go and don't hurt 
me." 

Tony's eyes narrowed with greed. "You got money?" 

"Yes, here in my pocketbook-oh!" 

Joan cried out with surprise as Tony tore her pocketbook away from her. He 
opened it and rummaged through it until he found her wallet. 

He flipped it open. There was a hundred bucks or so in it, and a lot of 
credit cards and similar items. 

He pocketed the cash and tossed the pocketbook to one side. "Thanks. That's 
what I call the icing on the cake." 

He leered at her. "Now, it's time for dessert." 

Joan asked, "Aren't-aren't you going to let me go?" 

"Hell, no," Tony said. "Take off your clothes, bitch." 

 CHAPTER THREE 

"Well, what the fuck you waiting for?" Tony sneered. "You gonna take off 
them clothes, or do I have to cut them off you?" 

Joan gasped, "What-what are you going to do to me?" 

"Shit, you're a college graduate, you figure it out." 

Joan tried to rush past him. Tony caught her by the wrist. Joan cried out in 
pain. Tony flung her on to the bed. 

It was an old, narrow bed on a metal framework. There were no sheets or 
blankets, and the mattress was stained and soiled. 

Joan started to get up to make another try. Tony showed her the knife, and 
she froze like a statue. 

Tony moved the blade closer to her face. Joan shuddered as he touched the 
flat of the blade against her cheek. 

"You sure are a pretty girl," he said. "I'd hate to have to mark up that 
pretty little face of yours." 

Joan started to weep. Tony told her, "Save your tears, bitch. They don't do 
a fucking thing for me." 

Tony lowered the knife from her face. Joan's eyes were hypnotized by the 
evil, glittering blade. 

He said, "Let's see what you look like underneath all them clothes." 

He slipped the tip of the knife between the fold of her shirt where the top 
button held it together. 

He flicked the knife, cutting the button loose. Joan flinched although the 
blade hadn't touched her. 

Enjoying himself, Tony slowly cut off all her buttons, from the top down to 
her navel. 

Joan sat on the bed, rigid with fear, her arms tightly pressed against her 
sides. She was quivering and shaking. 

Tony used the knife to peel back the flaps of her shirt. Joan's full breasts 
were held by a white bra with satin cups and lace trimmings. 

Tony said, "Let's have a look at them titties." 

He slipped the blade under the elastic which held the two cups together and 
sliced it open. 

The bra cups came loose and fell off to the sides. Joan's beautiful white 
breasts with their soft pink nipples came tumbling free. 

Tony's eyes glittered with lust. "Yeah, mama, you looking good." 

He told her to take off the shirt. Keeping her fearful eyes on the blade, 
Joan slipped her shirt off her arms and back. 

She let it drop on the mattress. Tony sliced open the shoulder straps of the 
bra and the entire garment fell to the floor. 

He said, "A girl with titties like you got don't need a bra." 

Joan hugged her chest, trying to cover her breasts with her arms. She 
managed to cover her nipples, but the soft mounds of her breasts rose over 
the tops of her forearms. 

Joan said, "Why are you doing this to me?" It was the eternal wail of the 
innocent victim. 

Tony said, "You wanted to relate to the community, didn't you? Well, I'm 
part of the community. 

Then he told her, "Stand up. I want to get those jeans off you." 

Joan stood up. Tony reached out and unbuttoned the top of her jeans. His 
hand brushed against the flesh of her flat tummy. It was hollow with fear. 

Looking at her, Tony pulled down her zipper. Joan said tonelessly, "Please 
don't. Please. Please." 

"Shut up, bitch." 

He pulled her jeans down off her hips. He had to tug them hard because they 
fit her so tightly. He pulled them down to her thighs. 

She was wearing a pair of white satin panties. They were bikini-style, and 
they formed a white triangle across her hips. 

They were decorated with little pink and blue floral designs around the 
waistband and the leg openings. 

Tony's cock got hard. It bulged in the crotch of his trousers. He gave it a 
squeeze. 

He put his open hand on Joan's belly and pushed. She stumbled backward. The 
backs of her knees collided with the metal bed frame. 

She sat down hard. Tony reached down and pulled off her sneakers. They were 
expensive jogging shoes, and Tony figured he could sell them for a pretty 
good buck. 

When her shoes were off, he lifted her ankles. Holding them up, he took hold 
of the bottoms of the legs of her jeans, and pulled. 

He peeled the jeans off her long, tautly muscled legs. He tossed them over 
his shoulders. If he got lucky, he might be able to pick up a few bucks by 
selling the jeans. 

He brandished the knife in front of her. He said, "You ain't goin' to make 
me use this, are you?" 

"No-no, no, I'll do what you want," Joan said. "Please don't hurt me." 

"You be a good little bitch, and mind your master, and there won't be no 
need to put the hurt on you," Tony said. "But don't get me mad, or I'll cut 
you." 

He pressed the metal stud on the knife handle. A spring clicked, and the 
blade vanished inside the handle. He pocketed the knife. 

He stood over the bed, looking down at her. After a moment, he unbuckled his 
belt and freed it from the loops at the top of his trousers. 

Joan said, "What are you going to do with that?" 

"I'm going to tie your hands, so they stay out of trouble," Tony said. 

He gripped the girl's slender arms and held them together. Joan squirmed 
from the pressure of his grip. 

Tony's belt was thin and narrow. He made a loop in it, and threw it over 
Joan's wrists. He pulled it tight, and passed a hitch over it. 

There was a length of the belt hanging free from one end. Joan's hands were 
tied in front of her. Tony pulled the free end, lifting the girl's arms. 

He pushed her on her back on the bed. He raised her arms up past her head, 
and passed the free end of the belt over the metal bed frame. 

He brought the free end back toward him, passed it through the buckle, and 
belted it shut. 

Now Joan was tied to the bed. She stared up, her eyes glazed with fear as 
Tony took off his shirt. 

He had a wide chest, ridged abdomen, and narrow waist. His flesh was a deep, 
dark bronze color. His muscles were well defined. 

He took off his shoes and socks. He said, "I got something for you, baby. 
Something big." 

He took off his pants. He was wearing a pair of low-cut black briefs. His 
erection had stretched them out of shape. 

The bedsprings groaned and Joan shivered when Tony Parrow sat down on the 
edge of the mattress. 

He said, "You sure are fine and foxy looking, bitch. You be good to me, 
don't give me no trouble, and I won't give you a hard time. Not too hard, 
anyway." 

Pulling down his briefs, he said, "I got something that's hard for you." 

His cock jutted into view. It was over nine inches long, and was thick in 
diameter. Joan stared at it with fearful fascination. 

She said, "No-no!" when Tony took hold of her panties and pulled them down 
off her legs and ankles. 

Tony lifted the panties to his face and took a deep breath as he pressed the 
cotton crotch of them to his nose. 

"You smell good, girl," he said. "Now, let's have a look at that pussy of 
yours. Come on, now, open them thighs." 

Joan didn't resist as his strong brown hands pried apart her soft white 
thighs. Tony grunted when he saw the loveliness of her pussy. 

He said, "You don't hardly look like you're getting much use out of that 
pussy. But don't you worry. I'll fix that." 

He rubbed the lips of her pussy, then inserted his middle finger inside her. 
She was tight and dry, and it was a struggle getting it inside. 

Joan thrashed and wriggled and cried out as his finger penetrated her. Tears 
spilled out from her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. Tony said, "You ain't 
no virgin. Not in your pussy, anyway. 

He rubbed her clitoris with one hand and shoved his finger in and out of her 
with the other. Joan's face was twisted with pain. 

Tony scowled. "Quit hollywooding it up. I ain't hurt you none yet." 

Joan sobbed, "You're so rough!" 

"You'd best get used to that," he told her. "Damned if you ain't tight, 
though. I'll have to get all wet somehow." 

Tony moved up on the bed. He straddled Joan so that his taut thighs pressed 
against her face, and his ass rested lightly on her chest. 

His cock was jutting straight in her face. Tony lifted it and laid it on her 
face. When Joan tried to twist her head to the side, he gripped it between 
his thighs. 

He said, "I want you to suck my cock. For your own sake, you'd best get it 
good and wet. And no biting, bitch, or you're dead." 

He pulled her hair, causing her to cry out. He said, "Come on, open that 
fucking mouth of yours, you cunt." 

Joan opened her mouth. It formed a wide O in her face. Tony guided his cock 
between her red lips and into the cavity of her mouth. 

Joan almost gagged as the big brown cock entered her. Her mouth was dry with 
fear, and the cock filled her, choking her. 

She wrapped her lips around the fleshy sepia shaft. She thought that her 
only chance of getting out alive was to do exactly what the black man 
wanted. She was right. 

Tony shifted his weight, moving forward. "Yeah, bitch, suck on that thing, 
that's the way, yeah!" 

Joan hesitantly rubbed her strong, wet tongue around the intruding cock. She 
ran the broad, flat part of her tongue against it. 

When he saw that she was going to do as he said, Tony let himself relax and 
enjoy the fun. 

Talk about mixing business with pleasure! There was nothing he liked better 
than breaking in a new girl. 

And the best part about it was that he would be getting paid for it. Hell, 
he would've been happy to do work like this for free. 

Besides, he knew he had something special here, something really choice. 
This Joan bitch wasn't like the usual crop of confused runaways that he 
generally scored. 

She wasn't any farm girl from Minnesota. She was classy, a lady. Tony knew 
that he would be able to get a good price for her. 

Joan sucked his cock until he pulled it out of her mouth. It was wet and 
gleaming with her saliva. 

"You do that pretty good," Tony said. "I'd come in your mouth, only I can't 
wait any longer to fuck that pussy of yours." 

Tony climbed off her. Joan's mouth was cracked at the corners from having to 
stretch so much to take the big cock inside it. 

Tony squeezed her breasts. "You got some pair of titties, girl. Damned if 
you don't." 

He bent his head and clamped his lips against her nipple. He sucked on it 
noisily while Joan shut her eyes in repugnance. 

Her breast was soft as butter in his mouth. Despite her fear, her nipple 
hardened under his lashing tongue. 

Tony pinched her nipple. "Hey, bitch, you're digging this, huh? You're 
getting turned on, ain't you?" 

"No!" Joan shouted. 

"After you've had some of my cock, you'll be shouting for more," Tony told 
her. "I could suck on them tits of yours all day long, but that pussy is 
still waiting for me." 

Joan's breasts gleamed from where the black man had licked and sucked them. 
Her nipples stood up like hard pink points. 

Tony took hold of her ankles and spread her legs wide open. Her pussy was 
nakedly vulnerable. 

Tony knelt between her legs and lowered himself on her. His hard chest 
pressed her yielding breasts flat. 

He took hold of his cock and aimed the wide head of it at the tender target 
that was her pussy. 

Joan sobbed in fear and disgust as his member poked against the soft' lips 
of her pussy. 

Tony aimed the cock head between her pussy lips. He pushed his hips forward. 
His cock started to enter her. 

Joan shut her eyes and buried her face against her arm. Tony's cock forced 
back the lips of her pussy, making them fold in on themselves. 

Tony grunted with pleasure as his heated cock head rubbed against the 
slippery smoothness of her pink pussy. 

She was still tight, but his cock had been lubricated by her saliva. Tony 
had to struggle some to force the first two inches of his cock into her. 

Joan was pale and trembling when he halted to catch his breath. She wept, 
"You're too big for me!" 

"Damn right I'm big." 

"I can't fit that thing inside me!" Joan cried. 

"You will, or you'll die trying." 

Tony shoved his hips forward. His cock inched into her, stretching her out. 
Joan made high, quivery sounds of pain. 

Tony reached under the girl and gripped her fleshy buttocks. He wanted to 
get a better hold on her. 

He tilted her hips to the best angle to receive his cock. He thrust his hips 
forward. His shaft sank between her pink pussy lips and vanished from sight 
as it was swallowed up. 

His strong hands clenched her buttocks tightly. They were like masses of 
white, doughy flour, and he kneaded them like a baker. 

Holding them, he shoved his cock all the way into her. Joan squeezed her 
eyes shut and tilted back her head and gasped. 

Then he was buried inside her. His big cock was planted in her pussy so that 
the base of his shaft was touching her cunt lips. 

"Too big, you're too big," Joan wept. 

Tony started rocking his hips back and forth, pumping his cock in and out of 
the girl. Joan squealed and moaned. 

As he fucked her, her juices began to flow, moistening her cunt. Soon his 
cock was gliding over the tender, wet membranes. 

Joan's trembling body was covered with a film of cold sweat. Tony kept 
kneading and fondling her bottom as he pumped his cock into her. 

"Fuck," he grunted, "come on, fuck, you bitch. Move your god-damned ass, you 
white-assed slut!" 

He pinched and prodded her bottom to force her to respond. Slowly and 
hesitantly, Joan raised her hips to meet his descending strokes. 

Tony began to move faster. Once he got started, he was like a sex machine. 
His cock thrust into her with mechanical precision. 

Sweat beaded up on his back. Joan's pussy was wet. It felt like hot velvet 
against his cock. This was one sweet little girl! 

The worn bedsprings creaked a groaning protest at the furious activity 
taking place on them. 

The mattress was all damp under Joan's back and buttocks. The leather belt 
was twisted and cut into the soft flesh of her wrists. 

The bed rocked. Joan was in a living nightmare. All she could see was Tony's 
broad black shoulder and the top of his head as he sucked and nibbled on her 
breasts. 

Tony pumped faster. His balls were swollen. He was going to come soon. He 
clutched Joan's buttocks and thrust deep into her cunt. 

The head of his cock knocked against the mouth of her womb. His cock 
stiffened. Come erupted out of the tip of it. 

Tony sucked her nipple hard as he came. Joan cried out and twisted her bound 
hands. Her long legs thrashed and kicked. 

Tony grunted. His head sagged on his neck like a flower on a too-thin petal. 
He let his forehead rest against her soft white breasts. 

He stopped moving his hips. His cock was lodged in her pussy. It quivered as 
a last few drops of come were squeezed from it. 

Tony savored the pleasurable sensation of resting his cock inside her. 
Then,.he rolled off her and pulled his cock out of her. 

Joan lay motionless on the bed. Tony fondled her breasts roughly. He 
squeezed them together, then pushed them apart. 

Joan managed to stop her broken sobbing. She said, "Won't you, won't you 
please let me go now?" 

"No." 

"When will you let me go?" 

"When I'm done with you," Tony said. Joan opened her mouth and screamed, 
"HELP!" 

Tony clapped his hand over her mouth, stifling her outcry. Her warm body 
writhed on the bed. 

He said, "That was dumb. Really fucking stupid. I thought you had more sense 
than to get me mad, but I guess I was wrong. Looks like I'll have to gag 
you." 

Tony picked up her panties from the floor. He tore her blouse into long, 
thin strips. 

He took his hand off her mouth. Joan clamped her lips shut. He said, "Come 
on, bitch, open up!" 

Joan shook her head no. Tony slapped her face. The loud cracking sound 
echoed against the bare walls of the small room. 

Joan opened her mouth to cry out. Tony stuffed her panties into her mouth. 
He tied them in place with one of the cloth strips he had torn from her 
blouse. 

He knotted the strip behind her head. Joan's shrieks were reduced to 
muffled, garbled noises. 

The side of her face was bright red where he had struck her. Tony was mad at 
himself for being so stupid. 

He had a valuable piece of merchandise here, and it was pretty fucking dumb 
to mark it up, and lower her market value. 

But the red outline of his hand would fade soon. He decided that if she gave 
him any more trouble, he would hurt her in a way that wouldn't leave any 
marks. 

She was going to be trouble, though. He had to make some calls, and get some 
deals going. He needed something to cool her out for a while. 

He had a deck of heroin that he was saving for himself, but business came 
first. Anyway, that would slow the bitch down. 

He used some of the remaining strips of her blouse to tie her hands better. 
He took back his belt. He was going to need it later to hold up his pants, 
anyway. 

He still had a few cloth strips left when he had finished tying her hands to 
the metal frame. He went down to the foot of the bed. 

He tied her ankles to the bed legs. Joan was tied so that she was spread 
wide open, just the way he liked his women to be. 

Some of his semen oozed out of her pussy and formed a tiny puddle on the 
mattress. Tony fondled her thighs and flanks. 

There was a tiny bathroom adjoining the main room. It was as small as a 
closet. It had a toilet and a sink and a shower stall. 

Tony found an empty bottle cap. He washed it out, and filled it with water. 
Then he cracked open the deck of heroin and measured some into the bottle 
cap. 

It was good, strong junk, and he made it a light dose. He was positive that 
the white chick was no junkie, and he didn't intend to overdose her. 

He just wanted to pacify her for a while. 

He took out his outfit. It was a doctor's syringe. He had heisted a doctor 
on an emergency call a couple of months ago. 

He had ripped off the doctor's wallet and his black bag. The doctor had 
pleaded with him to take the money, but let him keep the bag. His patient 
might die if he couldn't minister to him right away, the doctor said. Tony 
said, "Tough shit," and took it all. There were too many motherfuckers 
walking around breathing his air anyway. 

Tony filled the syringe with the heroin in water solution and went back into 
the bedroom. 

Joan's eyes bugged with fear when she saw the needle. Her eyes looked like 
they were going to pop out of her head. 

The bed frame rattled as she twisted against her bonds in a vain and futile 
attempt to break free. 

But Tony had tested them after tying them, and he knew that she wasn't going 
nowhere. 

"What you struggling for?" he laughed. "I ain't gonna hurt you. This is 
gonna make you feel real, real good." 

He gripped Joan's arm. The panty gag reduced her frantic pleading to 
meaningless noises. 

Tony found a vein and hit her up. Joan shivered. Tony stood at the bedside 
and watched her. 

After a moment, the stark fear in her eyes faded away. She was feeling the 
effects of the drug. Her eyes got glazed and dreamy. 

The tension dissolved out of her body. Her eyes were open, but she wasn't 
really in touch with the room. 

Tony figured he could chance taking the gag out of her mouth. He lowered the 
cloth strip and took the wadded-up panties out from between her jaws. 

They were dripping with saliva. He tossed them into the waste basket. She 
wasn't going to be needing them anymore. They were just one more item of 
useless clothing. 

Joan's voice was slurred and soft and halting. "What have you done to me? I 
feel so strange ... so strange." 

Tony fondled her breasts. She didn't flinch or resist or anything. He said, 
"I ain't done nothing to you-yet." 

He had to make a couple of phone calls. He pulled on his pants and his shirt 
and his shoes. 

He left the room and went down to the opposite end of the hall. A pay phone 
was bolted to the wall. 

Tony picked up the receiver and heard the comforting sound of a dial tone. 
That was good. Sometimes junkies or kids ripped the phone off for the change 
in the coin box. 

Tony called up two friends of his and told them to come over if they wanted 
to have some laughs. He gave them the address and hung up. 

The calls had taken about five minutes in all to complete. Tony went down 
the hall to his room. 

He stopped short. The door to the room was slightly ajar. The hair on the 
back of his neck stood up. 

He knew that he had shut the door behind him when he went out. 

He reached into his pocket. He pulled out his Saturday night special, a 
cheap but effective little revolver with a snub-nosed barrel. 

He pushed open the door with his foot and glided in, ready to deal trouble. 

Whatever he had been expecting to find, this wasn't it. He could almost have 
laughed out loud at what he saw. 

An old, bald-headed man was sitting by the bedside on the chair that he had 
moved there. He wore a yellow shirt and soiled brown slacks. 

His withered hand was playing with Joan's pussy. His fly was open, and with 
his other hand he was trying to pull some life and hardness into his 
shriveled cock. 

His dull eyes widened when he saw Tony with the gun. "Don't shoot!" His 
voice sounded like the squeaking of a rusty hinge. 

Tony said, "Who the fuck are you?" 

"I'm your next-door neighbor," the old man said. "Don't shoot, son." 

"I ain't your son, asshole. Get your motherfucking hands out of that girl's 
pussy." 

The old man pulled his hand away from Joan's pussy like it had burned him. 
He wiped her juices off on his pants leg. 

Tony said, "And get your dick back in your trousers. You a disgusting old 
motherfucker, ain't you?" 

The old man hastily tucked his member inside his pants and pulled up his 
zipper. He rose up slowly, as though his old bones were troubling him. 

Joan watched the scene with mild interest. She was seeing what was 
happening, but it didn't mean anything to her in her narcotized state. 

The old man stared hungrily at Joan's bound, gleaming white body. He smacked 
his lips. He didn't have any teeth. 

He said, "She sure is a pretty little thing." 

"What the fuck do you care?" Tony laughed. "You wouldn't be able to do a 
god-damned thing with her anyhow." 

"Would too," the old man mumbled defensively. "Why, I had me a little 'ho 
about six, seven months ago." 

He grinned with pride. "I made her moan." 

Tony said, "What the fuck am I doing, passing the time with you? I must be 
getting soft." 

He grabbed the old man by the back of his collar. Tony hated to put his 
hands on him, but he conquered his revulsion. 

"You don't have to get excited," the old man whined. "I didn't do nothing." 

Tony dragged him to the window. He opened the window and pushed the old 
man's head and shoulders through it. 

The old man cried, "What you doin'? I didn't do nothin'!" 

Tony hissed, "You see the street, Grandpa? It's a long way down. You give me 
any more trouble, and they gonna be scraping you off the sidewalk." 

Tony let the old fellow dangle over the drop for a while, so he would get 
nice and scared. 

The old man whimpered. He was as feeble as a kitten in Tony's grip. Finally, 
Tony tired of the fun and pulled him back into the room. 

The naked girl tied to the bed watched them as blandly as though she was 
looking at an unfunny comedy duo on television. 

Tony said, "Don't fuck around with me no more, Grandpa." 

"You crazy, man?" Grandpa said. "I didn't hurt nobody. I just wanted to fool 
around with your woman, that's all." 

He stared longingly at Joan's pussy. "Yeah, she sure is pretty." 

An idea struck Tony. "Listen, Grandpa, you want to make some money?" 

"Sure." 

"I'm gonna need somebody to run errands for me while I'm staying here," Tony 
said. 

"I'm your man," Grandpa said. 

Tony peeled off a twenty from his bill roll. "Go down the corner. Get me 
some sandwiches and some barbecue, enough for three people. Get me a couple 
bottles of wine, too." 

"I'm on the way." 

"And don't try to rip me off, Grandpa. If you do, I'll hunt you and track 
you down and squash you like a bug." 

"Why you gotta get threatening?" Grandpa whined. "I'm on my way. You don't 
got to get tough." 

He paused at the threshold of the door to take one more look at Joan. "Yeah, 
she sure is pretty." 

After he left, Tony locked the door. He didn't want anymore unexpected 
guests. 

Tony sat down in the chair that the old fellow had arranged at the bedside. 
It had a hard seat and a straight back. 

He said, "How you making it, girl?" 

Joan said dreamily, "I feel all warm inside." 

Tony reached out and played with her breasts. He flicked her nipples until 
they grew stiff and erect. 

He would take his hands away, and let her hard nipples soften and shrink. 
Then, when they were pink, flat buttons on her breasts, he would tease and 
irritate them until they were firm and pointed again. 

It was a nice game. It made his cock get hard again. Joan lay there with her 
eyes open, staring at the ceiling. 

Tony pulled down his zipper. He hadn't bothered to put his shorts back on, 
and his hard cock tumbled out of the opening in his trousers. 

He tilted Joan's head to one side so that her cheek lay flat against the 
mattress. He edged the chair up close to her. 

He said, "I'm hard again. I want you to suck me slow and easy. You dig? Open 
your mouth, girl." 

Joan opened her mouth. Tony leaned forward and fed his cock into it. Joan 
closed her mouth, and her red lips pressed against his shaft. 

She sucked it nice and easy, just the way he had, told her to do. The 
delightful suction of her soft lips and warm mouth on his cock sent chills 
running up and down his spine. 

Tony curled his toes and rocked back and forth. Joan was a bit sloppy in the 
way that she sucked him, and her saliva dribbled down the corners of her 
mouth and spilled on the mattress. 

Tony played with her nipples. When he felt his orgasm coming on, he said, 
"You better swallow every last drop of my come, bitch." 

Joan couldn't talk because her mouth was full, but she nodded to show that 
she would do what he wanted. 

A moment later, Tony felt a wrenching sensation in his guts. Come rose from 
his balls through his shaft and erupted out of the head of his cock. 

Joan's jaw and throat muscles worked as she swallowed his semen. She made 
loud slurping sounds. 

Tony grunted with pleasure and shuddered when he came. Hot ecstasy rippled 
through his body. 

After he came, his cock quivered on Joan's tongue for a while. When he took 
it out of her mouth, it was semi-erect. 

There was come and saliva on it. He took a handful of the girl's blonde hair 
and used it to wipe his member clean. 

He had just finished tucking his cock into his pants and pulling up his 
zipper when there was a knock on the door. 

 CHAPTER FOUR 

Tony Parrow opened the door. Standing out in the hall were two of his 
buddies, the ones he had summoned by phone. 

Their names were Peabo and Chugalug. Peabo was a short, thin man with a high 
forehead and the profile of a pharaoh. His skin was the color of old saddle 
leather. 

Chugalug was a walking mountain of black flesh. He had a double chin and a 
fat, swelling belly. He was plump and sassy as a porpoise, but when he 
grinned he looked like a shark. 

He was grinning now. His grin got even wider, when Tony welcomed his two 
friends into the room and they saw the nude blonde girl tied to the bed. 

Tony shut and locked the door. Staring at Joan, Peabo said, "Christmas came 
early this year." 

"You know that I always take care of my buddies," Tony said. 

Chugalug rumbled, "We gonna have some fun tonight." 

Peabo asked, "Where'd you find her?" 

"Standing right on the corner, believe it or not," Tony said. "She was doing 
everything but wearing a sign that said, 'Fuck me'. So I scored her fast 
before anybody else did." 

"Ain't you slick as shit?" Chugalug chuckled. 

"Slicker," Tony Parrow said. 

Peabo said, "She's got nice bit tits." 

"Her pussy is even nicer," Tony said. "And her mouth is pretty fucking 
talented, too." 

"But don't take my word for it," Tony said. "Try her for yourself." 

Peabo said, "She got a name?" 

"Joan, that's her name." 

"What you gone do with her? I mean, later." 

Tony said, "I'm gonna sell her ass to Grover Webb." 

Peabo sneered, "That dickhead? You best be sure that he don't try to cheat 
you on the price, my man." 

Chugalug said, "Shit, maybe you fellows are gonna stand here talking all 
day, but I'm gonna get me some action!" 

Peabo said, "She sure is taking this calmly." 

"I gave her a little shot before," Tony said. "It smoothed her out." 

"I'll smooth her ass out," Chugalug said eagerly. "Let me at her!" 

Joan lay on the bed, watching calmly while the three men argued about who 
was going to get to fuck her first. 

In some part of her mind she realized that she was in big trouble, but she 
couldn't summon up the will and energy to plot an escape. 

It was so much easier to just he there and do what she was told. They 
wouldn't hurt her if she obeyed them. 

She looked up. Tony Parrow was loosening the bonds that held her to the bed. 
She watched with interest. 

Tony said, "Hell no, Peabo, you ain't climbing on top of this girl. You'd 
squash her flat!" 

Chugalug said, "Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do, play with my 
motherfucking self?" 

Tony untied Joan's hands while Peabo undid the cloth bonds which held her 
ankles tied to the bedposts. 

Now, Joan was free. Tony put his hands under her arms and lifted her to a 
sitting position. 

He said, "Turn over, Joan, on your belly. That's it. No, don't lie down 
again." 

"I want to lie down," Joan said, "I'm tired." 

Chugalug said, "I'll wake your ass up." 

Tony said, "Get on your hands and knees. That's it. Good. Stay like that, 
don't let your belly touch the mattress." 

Tony and Peabo arranged Joan's limbs so that she knelt on the mattress. She 
hung her head, and her hair fanned out over the mattress. 

Chugalug took off his shirt and pants. He had a swelling, rounded belly. His 
erect cock looked like a black mop handle jutting out from behind his legs. 

He stood in back of Joan. Her magnificently rounded ass faced him. He 
squeezed and kneaded her plump buttocks. 

She groaned when he thrust an exploratory linger into her cunt. He said, "I 
see you been breaking this girl in already, Tony." 

"Shit, yeah, man," Tony said. "What you think I am, a motherfucking monk?" 

Chugalug squeezed Joan's pussy lips between his fat fingers. A bright drop 
of come oozed out from between them. 

She raised her head and moaned from the pain of it. Chugalug said, "She's 
fresh. That pussy of hers is real tight." 

"Stretch her out some," Peabo said. 

"Look at the ass on this girl!" Chugalug said. He parted her buttocks and 
peered at her tight, brown-ringed anus. 

He stuck his finger inside her asshole. Joan's head jerked up, and her neck 
muscles were taut and corded. 

She said, "Ow, you're hurting me!" 

Chugalug said, "You know what, man? This bitch is a virgin in her ass. She 
ain't never been fucked in it!" 

Tony said, "Yeah, and I'm gonna be the one who breaks that cherry, so you 
can just back off." 

Chugalug said, "Shit, I'll pay you good for letting me break her." 

"Whatever this fool is paying, I'll pay more," Peabo said. 

"Who you calling a fool?" Chugalug demanded. 

Tony said, "You're both fools if you think that I'm going to let you all 
crack her. That ass is mine, so you just lighten up and forget about it 
until I take my shot. Damn, Chugalug, if you ain't gonna fuck her little 
pussy, stand back and let Peabo do it!" 

Chugalug lurched forward. The head of his hard cock poked the soft lips of 
the blonde girl's pussy. 

He guided his cock between her cunt lips. His broad hands covered her hips 
as he wrapped them around her. 

As he pulled her into him, he shoved his hips forward. His cock slid into 
her and penetrated deeply. 

Joan sobbed once and started to sag. Tony took hold of her breast and 
viciously pinched her nipple. 

He said, "Don't you collapse, you bitch. Stay on your hands and knees. If 
you fold up, I'll whip your ass bloody!" 

"He's hurting me," Joan sobbed. 

"He ain't hurting you, he's just fucking you," Tony said. "You're gonna be 
getting a lot of it, so you best get used to it." 

Chugalug's fat belly rippled and jiggled as he pumped his hips back and 
forth, forcing his cock in and out of Joan's pussy. 

Tony said, "No use in letting that pretty mouth go to waste. Peabo, why 
don't you get yourself some of that?" 

Peabo didn't have to be told twice. He pulled off his shirt and his pants. 
He was so skinny that all his ribs were showing on his dark, plum-colored 
torso. 

His cock was long and thin. He walked around so that he was standing with 
his cock aimed at Joan's face. 

With casual brutality, he wrapped her golden hair around his hand and jerked 
up her head so that it was level with his cock. 

"Get on it, bitch," he said. "Suck it like it was your momma's tit." 

Joan opened her mouth. Peabo thrust his cock into it. Joan's head began to 
bob back and forth and up and down as she gave him her head. 

At the same time, Chugalug was fucking her dog-style. He reached under her 
and fondled her dangling breasts. 

Sometimes he would play with her clitoris. Great shivers would rock the 
girl's body when he did so. 

Tony sat down and took a rest. He figured he had a right to slow down for a 
little while. 

Besides, it was funny as hell to watch Chugalug fucking the blonde girl. The 
fat man's moon face glowed with pleasure. 

Ail his folds of fat shook and rippled as he shoved his cock in and out of 
Joan's pussy. Rivulets of sweat streamed down his face and chest. 

Peabo's tightly curved buttocks were tensed with strain. He rocked up on his 
toes as he fucked Joan in her mouth. 

There was a knock on the door. 

Chugalug stopped pumping, and Peabo's wary eyes shifted toward the locked 
door. 

Tony said, "Don't stop doing what you're doing. Ain't no big thing." 

He went to the door and said, "Who the fuck is it?" 

"It's me," Grandpa's voice wheezed from the other side of the door. 

Tony said, "You want to talk about fools, wait'll you get a look at this old 
geezer." 

He opened the door and Granpa came into the room. He was carrying a big 
white bag. When he saw the action on the bed, he stopped in his tracks. 

Tony said, "You ain't gonna have a motherfucking heart attack on me, are 
you, Grandpa?" 

Grandpa shook his head. "You fellows are sure working that little gal, ain't 
you?" 

"Yeah," Peabo said, "and what's it to you, you dried-up old fool?" 

"Nothing," Grandpa said, "not a thing." He added slyly, "I just thought that 
when you boys were done, you might let me take a crack at her." 

Tony said, "Let me think about that one for a while. I don't want you to 
drop dead from the excitement." 

"Don't worry about me, son," the old fellow said, "I'll make her moan." 

"Shit," scoffed Peabo in a voice of disbelief. 

Convinced that the interruption was a minor one, Chugalug lurched into 
motion. He started slowly, like an old truck climbing a steep hill. 

Soon his ripples and folds of fat were shaking like jelly on a plate. He was 
soft, but his cock was rock hard, and he used it to good effect. 

Peabo took a thumb full of the soft flesh of Joan's breast and twisted it. 
When she opened her mouth to whimper, Peabo's cock popped out of it. 

Peabo snarled, "Pay attention, bitch!" 

There was an ugly purple-brown bruise on the rounded underside of Joan's 
ivory breast. 

Peabo shoved his cock back in her mouth. At the same time, Chugalug was 
fucking her so hard that her breasts swayed and shook. 

The fat man was dripping with sweat. He played a little game with Joan. He 
would withdraw his cock from inside her until only the knobbed, swollen head 
of it was lodged in her. 

Then, without warning, he would shove his well-padded hips forward, 
thrusting his cock all the way inside her, filling her. 

He would pull back slowly, drawing his cock out of her until once more only 
the head of it was in her. Then he would ram forward, and the cycle would 
begin once more. 

Tony looked through the bag of food that the old man had brought. There was 
plenty of fried chicken and barbecued ribs. 

Tony added up the amounts on the bill and checked them against what the old 
man had said he spent. 

He might have over five hundred bucks in his pocket, but he'd be damned if 
he'd let Grandpa or anybody else get over on him, not even for five cents. 

But the bill checked out okay. He slipped Grandpa a five dollar bill for a 
tip and said, "You did okay, man. If I need anything else, I'll give you a 
holler." 

The old man hesitated. Tony demanded, "What you waiting for?" 

Grandpa said, "You think that maybe I could just, you know, hang around and 
watch?" 

Tony was going to tell him to get the fuck out of there before he got a boot 
up the ass, but he suddenly changed his mind. 

What the hell, the old guy might be good for some laughs later on. Tony 
said, "Okay, Grandpa, you can hang around. But keep your mouth shut. I don't 
want to hear none of your corny fucking comments." 

"I'll be quiet as a mouse," the old fellow promised. "You won't even know 
I'm here." 

"And keep your dick in your pants," Tony added. "I don't want to see that 
nasty thing while I'm eating." 

The old man sat on the floor with his back to the wall. His aged eyes 
glittered with lust as he watched Joan being fucked simultaneously in her 
pussy and her mouth. 

Tony sat down on the chair. He cracked open a bottle of wine and ate some 
ribs while he watched his partners fuck Joan. 

Peabo came first. He shoved his cock all the way inside the girl's mouth. 
Her eyes got crossed and she started to gag. 

Little veins stood out on Peabo's forehead and pulsed as come jetted from 
his cock inside Joan's mouth. 

"Swallow it " he shouted. "Swallow it, bitch!" 

Joan gulped and forced his semen down her throat. Tears spoiled out of her 
eyes even while his cock was stuffed in her mouth. 

Chugalug was going a mile a minute. His broad face was creased with delight. 
The swell of his belly rubbed against Joan's buttocks every time he thrust 
into her. 

Peabo took his cock out of Joan's mouth. His eyes were glazed, and he had to 
lean against the wall for a minute. 

He groaned, and clutched his groin. "That was sweet! So fucking sweet!" 

Grandpa said hopefully, "You think that maybe I could take his place, huh?" 

Tony swallowed a mouthful of chicken before saying, "I'm gonna wind up 
killing you yet, old man." 

"Sorry," Grandpa mumbled. "Guess I got over-excited." 

"Sit down and shut up before you get dead," Tony told him. 

Now that Peabo's cock was no longer planted in her mouth, Joan was able to 
lean forward. She pressed the side of her head against the mattress. 

She rested her forearms on the bed. Chugalug clung to her buttocks and 
rammed his cock into her again and again. 

She grunted each time his long, fat cock plowed deeply into her. Her breasts 
dangled back and forth in time to the rhythm of his surging thrusts. 

Peabo straightened up. He watched the fat man with something like amazement 
in his eyes. 

He said to Chugalug, "For somebody who's built for comfort and not for 
speed, you sure can move, man!" 

The fat man's mouth lolled open slackly. His smooth, hairless chest rose and 
fell as he sucked in breath after gasping breath. 

He thrust forward and came inside Joan's pussy. His belly rested on top of 
her buttocks. 

He stopped moving and stood as still as a statue. A shudder sent a 
fleshquake rippling through his massive form. 

He tilted back his head and moaned, "Good God!" 

He left his cock in the girl for a moment, and just basked in the afterglow, 
like a whale sunning itself offshore. 

There was a liquid sucking sound as he withdrew his cock from inside her. As 
soon as he released her, Joan sagged in the middle like a swaybacked horse. 

She fell forward on her belly. Her long legs dangled over the edge of the 
bed. Her fingers clawed the mattress. 

The bed rocked as Chugalug sat down hard on it. The bedsprings shrieked in 
protest. He sat to one side of the girl. 

Sweat covered his face. He was drenched with the stuff. It looked like 
somebody had thrown a pail of water on him. 

Peabo said, "You got something really special there, man." 

"Don't I know it," Tony said smugly. 

"If that motherfucking Webb don't want her, I'll buy her off you." 

Tony shook his head. "You can't afford her, man. And anyway, if I wasn't 
going to sell her, I'd keep her for myself." 

"Put her ass out on the street and you'll make a whole shit pot full of 
cash," Peabo said. 

"I ain't no pimp," Tony said. "I don't want the responsibility. I find the 
girls, fuck 'em, and sell them to the highest bidder." 

Chugalug opened his eyes. His breathing had finally returned to normal. He 
said, "Whooo wheeeeee!" 

Tony grinned. "You liked that, huh?" 

"Ain't nothing I like better," Chugalug said. Then his eyes glanced over the 
ribs and the chicken and the wine. 

"No, there ain't nothing I like better," he repeated, "except for eating 
some of that good barbecue." 

He lurched to a standing position. He resembled a black hippo. He padded 
ponderously over the bag of food, and helped himself to a healthy portion. 

Tony tossed a clean-picked chicken breast into the trash basket. He went 
over to the bed. 

He asked Joan, "How you feeling, girl?" 

She turned her head to face him. Her heavy eyelids fluttered and opened. The 
shot of dope was wearing off her, and she was returning to reality. 

"I hurt," she said. Her voice was a monotone. "My jaw is sore. My pussy is 
sore. It hurts." 

Tony raised her up to a sitting position. He took advantage of the 
opportunity to fondle her breasts. 

He got a bottle of wine and raised it to her lips. He said, "Here, drink 
some of this." 

He tilted the bottle. The cheap, raspberry-flavored carbonated wine spilled 
down the girl's mouth and splashed on her breasts. 

Joan's throat muscles worked. She managed to get some of the wine down. Her 
breasts gleamed and sparkled where the wine had hit her. 

Tony put the bottle down on the night table. His prized possession was 
starting to look a little frayed around the edges. 

Joan's lips and the skin around her mouth was puffy and swollen. The pupils 
of her eyes were black points. 

The loveliness of her bosom was marred by the livid bruise which Peabo had 
left on her breast. 

The curls of her pubic bush were matted with dried come. Her pussy lips were 
red and irritated from the fucking she had been forced to endure. 

"What you need," Tony said, "is to get cleaned up." 

He poked and prodded the girl until she was standing on her own two feet. 
She swayed dangerously to and fro, as though she would topple over any 
minute. 

Tony steadied her by putting his arm around her slender waist. He led her 
into the bathroom. 

Her face was pale and white as a sheet. Tony said, "You all right?" 

Her eyes focused and unfocused. She said, "I think that I'm going to be 
sick." 

Tony lifted the lid of the toilet seat. He was just in time. Joan clutched 
her middle and doubled forward. 

She was as sick as a dog. The wrenching convulsions of her heaving stomach 
emptied her out. 

When it was over, she was weak and trembling and covered with cold sweat. 

Tony said, "Now you know you need a motherfucking shower." 

The shower curtain was ripped and torn and made out of cheap green plastic. 
Tony shoved it to one side. 

Joan stepped into the stall. Leaning against the wall, she sat down in the 
corner of the shower. 

She sat there, hugging her knees and looking at her feet. Tony turned on the 
taps, and a stream of water gushed from the shower head. 

Joan gasped as the spray hit her. The water was cold. Tony adjusted the taps 
until the water temperature was lukewarm, which was as hot as it would get. 

Joan tried to climb out-of the shower stall, but Tony wouldn't let her. He 
tossed in a bar of soap and a wash cloth. 

Joan tried to wash herself, but she wasn't doing a very good job of it. Tony 
got exasperated, and decided to do it himself. 

He killed the water flow. He lathered up the wet wash cloth. His brown hands 
lifted the sitting girl's ankles and spread her legs. 

She was wet and sleek. He scrubbed her thighs and particularly her pussy. 
Joan cried out from his rough handling of her tender flesh. 

He washed the outside of her pussy and the inside. Then he made her get on 
her hands and knees with her ass facing him. 

He rubbed the soap against the cloth, and re-lathered it. He spread the 
cloth on Joan's rounded buttocks and soaped them up until they were covered 
with white foamy froth. 

He parted her buttocks. Joan gasped as he poked a corner of the wash cloth 
inside her anus and cleaned it out. 

She moaned and wriggled her wet, shining buttocks. Tony's cock hardened in a 
few seconds. It rose painfully inside his pants. 

He stood up and turned on the water and let it splash over Joan's huddled 
form. The stiffness in his cock didn't go away. 

When she was washed clean, he turned the water off. It gurgled down the 
drain and through the pipes. 

He rubbed his cock through his pants. It only got harder. He realized that 
he was going to have to do something about it. 

He tugged at Joan's hair to get her attention. "Come on, bitch," he said, 
"get out of the shower." 

Joan slipped on the slick floor of the shower stall, and Tony had to catch 
her to keep her from falling. 

She was a double-armful of warm, sleek girl. Her hair was slicked back and 
dark from the dampness. 

She was nude and pink and gleaming. He half-carried, half-dragged her over 
to the sink. 

He said, "Bend forward." 

He stood behind her and bent her forward at the waist. Joan put her hands 
against 'the wall to maintain her balance. 

Tony opened his pants and let them drop. They fell in a heap at his ankles. 
He pressed his groin against the softness of the girl's buttocks. 

He was hot and ready for action. He couldn't even wait to bring her into the 
other room and throw her on the bed. 

He would fuck her now. 

He worked his tongue around in his mouth until if was full of saliva. He 
opened his lips and let the saliva ooze out onto his hands. 

He held Joan's buttocks apart and smeared the saliva in the cleft. He made 
sure that there was plenty of it lubricating her tight puckered asshole. 

Joan said, "What are you doing?" 

"Shut up." He took some more saliva and smeared it on his cock until the 
brown shaft was covered with white froth. 

He said, "Spread your legs. Wide. Wider. That's it. Hold on good to that 
sink." 

Joan's belly went concave with fear. "What are you going to do to me?" 

Tony said, "I'm going to crack your cherry, bitch." 

Joan was puzzled. "My cherry? But I'm not a virgin." 

"Your ass is." 

"My ass?!" She looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes were dark circles 
that glowed with fear. "Oh no, you wouldn't!" 

"Oh yes, I would," Tony said. "You'd best relax and not tighten up." 

"No!" She said. "I won't do it! Not that! Anything but that!" 

She tried to break away. Tony caught her by the wrists and gripped them in 
one hand. He wasn't in the mood for fooling around. 

Standing behind her, he twisted her hair in his hand. Then he forced her 
head down into the toilet bowl. 

Joan fought frantically. Now she couldn't breathe. Tony held her 
effortlessly in position for a moment. 

He let her up for air. Joan's face was lobster red. Her breasts shook as she 
filled her lungs with air. 

Before she could scream, he forced her back down again. Her hands fluttered 
like butterflies. 

He let her up a second time. His face was a mask of fury. "You ready to stop 
playing games now?" 

"Yes!" she screamed. "Don't do that to me again, I beg you!" 

"You made me do it. Don't make me do it again." 

From the other room, Peabo called, "Hey, man, what's going on in there?" 

"Nothing!" Tony snapped. "Not a god-damned thing, so mind your own fucking 
business!" 

His tone of voice told them even more than his words that they would be wise 
to mind his advice. 

He bent Joan forward from the waist. She moaned and wailed from his rough 
handling of her. 

He smeared more saliva on his cock. He wanted to hurt the bitch, do a real 
number on her, but his business sense reminded him that he couldn't afford 
to do any real damage to a valuable piece of property. 

He held her buttocks apart and prodded her anus with the head of his cock. 
It slipped down her crack and lodged for a second inside her pussy. 

Tony pulled it out and renewed his assault. He held his blunt cock head 
against her puckered anus and pushed. 

The cock shoved aside the ring of her anus and caused it to fold back on 
itself. Joan gasped and panted as he penetrated her. 

Tony grasped her squirming, frantically wriggling hips. His cock was deep 
enough inside her so that it wouldn't work out. 

Holding her hindquarters, Tony shoved forward, splitting her and cracking 
her. 

Joan screamed. Tony clapped his hand over her mouth, stifling her shriek. 

Her ass was hot and tight and creamy. Tony pushed Iris hips forward, burying 
his cock inside her. 

The girl quivered and shook in his arms. Her knees sagged. Before she could 
fall, he put his arm under her waist and supported her. 

Now, he had one arm around her waist, and his other hand muffling her mouth. 
Joan's hands were pressed flat against the wall, helping to hold her up. 
Tony began to rock his hips back and forth. His cock fit inside her like a 
finger inside a rubber glove. 

"Relax," he grunted. "It will hurt more if you don't." 

Joan did the best that she could under the circumstances. Tony fucked her 
virgin ass. It might be hell for her, but he was having a great time. 

He fucked her quickly, brutally, and efficiently. He was so turned on by 
Joan's helplessly squirming struggles, that it didn't take him long to come. 

He groaned with pleasure as his semen spurted into her vitals. She shuddered 
and made high, quivery, squealing sounds. 

Joan held on to the sink. She gripped it so tightly that her knuckles turned 
white. 

Holding her buttocks apart, Tony eased his cock out of her. The ring of her 
anus clutched his member as though it didn't want to let it go. 

Tony examined her. She was split, and a tiny drop of blood mixed with semen 
trickled from her bottom. 

"Well," he said, "you ain't no virgin now." 

Joan let go of the sink and wrapped her arms around her belly. Her mouth 
opened in a long, drawn-out moan. 

She sank to her knees. She bent forward until her forehead touched the 
floor. She made soft whimpering sounds. 

Tony wiped off his cock with a piece of toilet paper and threw the soiled 
tissue in the bowl. 

He picked up his pants and pulled up his zipper. He felt pleasantly weary 
and satisfied. He had done a good day's work. 

Joan said, "Oh, God ... Oh, God." 

Tony patted her bottom reassuringly. The instant that he touched her, she 
drew up and crawled into the corner of the bathroom. 

Her face was streaked with tears. Strands of golden hair fell across her 
face, blocking her vision, but she made no effort to brush them aside. 

Tony said, "First time hurts the most. It'll be easier next time." 

"Next time?" she echoed numbly. "No please, don't do that to me again!" 

"I do what I like," he said. "You'd best remember that, bitch. When I tell 
you to do something, you do it. Or you get put in the world of hurt." 

Joan's face scrunched up and squeezed out fresh tears from her eyes. Her 
shoulders heaved with her sobs. 

Tony mocked, "What you doin'? Crying for your momma? She can't help you now. 
You should have stayed home where you belonged, girl." 

Tony paused on the threshold of the the bathroom. He said, "I bet you 
thought that Lincoln freed all the slaves, huh?" 

He laughed. "Bullshit. You ain't free. You're a slave-my slave. How you like 
it so far, bitch?" 

Joan's broken weeping was her only reply. 

Tony told her, "It gets even better, girl. Wait and see. Your ass is gonna 
get run ragged." 

Tony went back into the bedroom. Chugalug said, "Damn, man, what you doin' 
to that girl in there?" 

"I cracked her," Tony said. "Any more of them ribs left?" 

"Plenty." Peabo held the bag out to him. Tony dug in with both hands. He ate 
some ribs and washed it down with cheap wine. 

He was feeling fine. 

Chugalug said, "She gonna be all right in there?" 

"Shit, yeah," Tony said. "There ain't no window, so she can't go no place." 

Peabo cautioned, "You'd best check to see if there's a razor in the medicine 
chest, bro'." 

"Why?" Tony asked. "What's she gonna do, cut me?" He laughed uproariously at 
his own joke. 

"No," Peabo said, "but if she's whacked out enough, she might slash her own 
wrists, man." 

Tony chewed that over for a minute. Then he got up and went into the 
bathroom. 

Chugalug said, "Yeah, bring her ass back in here. She's better looking than 
Peabo and Grandpa here." 

Tony emerged a moment later with a pale and trembling Joan. Her steps were 
unsteady, and her lovely body was contorted with pain and fear. 

"Here she be," Tony said, "looking pretty as a picture." 

He led her over to the bed. Joan collapsed on it and lay there without 
moving. 

The men finished eating. They drank more wine, and smoked a few joints. The 
pungent smell of reefer filled the air. 

Somebody brought up the subject of pussy eating. Tony said, "Tell the truth, 
Chugalug you eat pussy, man?" 

"Fuck, no," the fat man said. "My momma told me, 'Son, don't eat nothing 
that you can't buy in a grocery store." 

"I wonder if she said that to your poppa," Peabo chortled. 

The fat man's face clouded. "Watch what you say about my momma." 

"Sorry," Peabo said quickly. "No offense, bro'." 

"Just mind what you say about her, that's all." 

Tony said, "Hey, lighten up. What about you, Peabo? You eat pussy?" 

Peabo said, "I ain't putting my mouth where somebody else put his dick." 

"That's pretty much how I feel about it," Tony said. 

Peabo said, "Hey, what about you, Grandpa? You eat that stuff?" 

Chugalug laughed. "Old Gramps been sitting there without making a peep. How 
about it, Gramps? You go down on some little girl's gash?" 

Grandpa was embarrassed. "Shit, I don't do none of that shit." 

"Wait a minute," Tony said. "Grandpa, I think you're jiving us." 

"No, I ain't." 

Tony pointed at Joan lying curled on her side on the bed. He said, "What 
about her, Grandpa? Would you go down on her?" 

The old fellow stubbornly shook his head. "No, sir." 

"You're a motherfucking liar. If I told you that you could eat out that 
girl's pussy right now, right this minute, you wouldn't do it?" 

The old man said, "Well ... " 

The other three erupted into raucous laughter. Chugalug pointed his finger 
at the old man. 

He said, "Gramps is a pussy eater!" 

"Right on, Grandpa!" Peabo said. 

Tony leaned forward, his eyes glittering. "Well, what about it? You want to 
put your mouth and tongue in this little girl's pussy?" 

Grandpa thought about it for a minute. "Nope, I ain't gonna do it." 

"Listen, old man, if you don't eat her cunt, you ain't gonna get nothing off 
her," Tony said, "so you better think about it carefully before you answer." 

Peabo said, "She's young, Gramps. Young and sweet and juicy." 

The old fellow said something that sounded like, "Pshaw". Then he mumbled, 
"You boys would laugh at me." 

"No, we wouldn't," Peabo said. "Honest to God. We wouldn't laugh, would we, 
men?" 

"Hell, no," Tony Parrow said. 

Chugalug arranged his face into a pious mask. He looked like a crooked 
preacher who steals from the collection plate. 

He said, "I promise that I wouldn't laugh at you, Grandpa." 

Tony got off his chair and helped the old man to his feet. Grandpa groaned 
from the effort of rising. 

Tony led him over to the bed. Joan was semi-conscious. Tony pushed her off 
her side and on her back. 

He lifted her ankles and spread her legs. Peabo and Chugalug crowded in to 
see what was going to happen next. By now the sun had set, and it was dark 
outside. The only light in the room was turned on. It was a bare light bulb 
mounted on the cracked and peeling ceiling. 

Joan mumbled something. She put her arm over her eyes to protect them from 
the glaring light. 

"Look at her," Tony said. "Look at those big tits. Look at those strong legs 
and that clean, unwrinkled skin." 

Peabo nudged Grandpa in the ribs. "Look at that pussy, man." 

Tony said, "You're old, Grandpa. You ain't never gonna get another shot at 
something as choice as this." 

The old man finally said, "Well, if I did eat pussy-and I ain't saying that 
I do, mind you-but if I did, this is the kind of pussy that I'd eat." 

"Go ahead," Tony said. "There it is, just waiting for you to dig in." 

The old man's hands shook like leaves in the wind. "I'll do it." 

The other three patted him on the back and told him that he was a hell of a 
man, a hell of a man. 

Peabo said, "You've got to take off your clothes, Gramps." 

Grandpa took off his shoes and shirt and pants. He wasn't wearing any 
underwear. 

Naked, he looked like a figurine of brown clay which had been shaped into 
the semblance of a man, and then left out in the sun for fifty or sixty 
years, until it was worn and seamed and scored with wrinkles. 

Grandpa crawled on the mattress and knelt between Joan's legs. His palsied 
hand skittered across her flat belly and squeezed her breasts. 

Tony said, "Lighten up on that shit, Gramps. You're here to eat pussy. You 
can cop a feel later." 

The old man extended his withered hand and touched Joan's pussy. He stuck 
out his middle finger and inserted it between her cunt lips. 

Joan made a soft, sighing cry and shifted her hips to the side. 

The old man took his finger out of her. He said slyly, "She's wet." 

Peabo patted his shoulder. "But you'll make her a lot wetter." 

Grandpa lowered his head. He puckered his lips and kissed Joan's pussy. 

"That's the way, Gramps," Tony said. 

Grandpa drew back his lips. His gums were purple-yellow and he had maybe 
three teeth at the most. 

He stuck out his tongue. His trembling fingers parted Joan's pussy lips. He 
touched his tongue to the moist membrane of her pussy. 

It must have tasted good, because the old fellow pressed his face against 
her flesh and jabbed his tongue deep inside her. 

Drool spilled from his mouth on her hips and thighs. He made sucking sounds, 
like he was slurping soda through a straw. 

Chugalug said, "Damn! Look at Gramps go!" 

Peabo said, "You can teach an old dog new tricks." 

Grandpa looked up from what he was doing. His face was all wet. He said, 
"Can I, can I fuck her, huh?" 

"I don't know," Tony said drolly, "can you?" 

The old fellow wriggled his cock. It was wrinkled and shriveled like a pea 
pod left out in the sun to dry. His balls looked like prunes. 

He sobbed with frustration at his inability to get hard. The other three men 
had tears in their eyes from trying to keep from laughing. 

Joan came awake. The effects of the dose of dope she was given hours before 
had died away. She was aware of dull, throbbing pain in her pussy, her jaw, 
and her behind. 

The disturbance at the foot of the bed drew her attention. Her eyes became 
clear and focused. 

She saw that her long, luscious dancer's legs were spread wide open. Then 
she got a good look at what was squatting between them. 

Grandpa was on his knees. He looked like a sun-baked mummy come to life to 
wreak vengeance on the living. 

His lingers were frantically kneading his cock, pulling it like dough, 
trying to work some life and vigor into it. 

He opened his mouth. Drool slobbered out of it and splashed on Joan's taut, 
flat tummy. 

Joan's eyes rolled up in her head and she fainted dead away. 

Tony said, "Forget it, Gramps. It ain't happening. Put some clothes on, for 
God's sake." 

The old man pleaded, "Just give me a few more minutes, fellows!" 

"Some other time, maybe," Tony said. 

"Yeah, pack it up, Gramps," Chugalug said. "Shit, the little lady took one 
look at you and passed out!" 

Peabo said, "You a real ladykiller, Gramps, but we don't want you to hurt 
yourself." 

The old man tearfully got off the girl, still begging for a few more 
minutes. He sat down in the corner and sulked. 

Peabo went into the bathroom and got a wet wash cloth. He said, "I'm getting 
kind of horny myself." 

"You going to fuck her?" Chugalug asked. 

"Not her pussy," Peabo answered. "We're going to have to wash her good 
before I put my dick where Gramps had his mouth." 

"I'm clean," the old fellow wailed from his corner. 

Peabo laid the wet cloth on Joan's forehead. After a moment, her eyelids 
fluttered, and she came awake. 

The first thing that she saw when she opened her eyes was Peabo opening his 
fly and taking his hard cock out of it. 

He said, "Suck it, bitch." 

Joan was so relieved to see a young, healthy adult male with a fine, firm 
cock, instead of the nightmare vision of Grandpa holding his member and 
drooling on her, that she opened her mouth for Peabo's hot cock and sucked 
it with something almost like gratitude. 

When Peabo came, she swallowed all his semen. He was so pleased by the head 
that she gave him, that he let her drink some wine. 

The wine burned her throat and lit a fire in her belly. Joan was grateful 
for it, too. It restored life and a hint of energy to her abused body. 

She needed energy. For the rest of the night, Peabo and Tony and Chugalug 
took turns fucking her and making her suck their cocks. 

They kept Joan locked in the little room for two days and nights. When they 
got hungry or thirsty, they sent Grandpa out to buy them some provisions. 

They had a hell of a time. For Joan, it was a time in Hell. 

On the evening of the second day, Tony Parrow came in with some new clothes 
that he had bought from a shoplifter over on the Avenue. 

He showered Joan and washed her clean and made her look as pretty as 
possible. Chugalug and Peabo both got a little bit pissed off because he 
wouldn't let them fuck Joan, or even force her to suck them off. 

"Sorry, fellows, but that's the way it is," Tony explained. "I've got to 
take care of business. This bitch is going to make me a nice piece of cash." 

Peabo and Chugalug got over their fit of pique. They shook Tony's hand and 
patted him on the back and told him that he was right on and righteous. 

They passed around a final bottle of wine. They laughed and joked and were 
full of high spirits. 

Joan sat quietly in the corner. Her eyes were wide, but her face was 
expressionless. Her hands were folded and resting on her thighs. 

She wore the clothes that Tony had scored for her. She had on a dark blue 
short-sleeved blouse, and a short white skirt. 

The clothes were stolen, but they fit her pretty well. Tony had estimated 
her size in clothes, and come close to the mark. 

The days and nights of being the sexual slave of the three black men had 
messed up the blonde girl's mind but good. 

She was growing wise in the ways of slavery. She knew that the first law, 
the supreme commandment which guides a slave's life, can be summed up in one 
word-OBEY. 

She was a very obedient girl, now. Tony was pleased with her. 

He went down the hall and gave Grover Webb a call and told him that he had 
some quality merchandise to sell him. 

 CHAPTER FIVE 

One week later, Grover Webb inspected his merchandise to make sure that it 
was performing satisfactorily. 

Although he remained outwardly cool and unconcerned, Grover was nervous. 
Convention time had almost arrived, but he still had a long, long way to go 
before he would be able to pay his debt to Roi Hibbler. 

Grover went to Althea's apartment in the midtown area. It was a tower of 
steel and glass with round the clock uniformed security men. 

Althea was Grover's bottom woman, a kind of top sergeant of whoredom. She 
served as a combination mother-hen and stern task mistress to the girls in 
the stable. 

She opened the door of her apartment and let Grover in. She was a stunning 
individual of immense physical attractiveness. 

She was tall, very tall, almost six feet tall even without her shoes. 
Tonight she stood much taller than that, the result of the gleaming white 
patent leather high-heeled shoes that she was wearing. 

The shoes had pointed toes and heels which were over five inches tall. She 
stood a head taller than Grover. 

She was thirty years old. Her dark, thick hair was braided and decorated 
with glass and silver beads which made her look like an African princess. 

Her smooth, soft flesh was the color of coffee mixed with a light dash of 
milk. Her eyes were dark, and her lips were thick and sensuous. 

Ivory pendants shaped like tusks hung from the lobes of her ears. She had 
broad shoulders and voluptuous breasts. 

Her torso was cinched in with a white satin corset, tightly laced. It gave 
her abundant figure the curves of an hourglass. 

Her breasts were bare. They were rounded and heavy and had dark brown, 
almost purple nipples. The nipples, even at rest, were as big as the first 
joint of a finger. 

Her belly was smooth and gently rounded. Wrapped around her waist was a 
white satin garter belt trimmed with scallops of lace. 

She wore white silk panties. They fit her like a second skin, clinging to 
her and crackling with static electricity when she moved. 

The mound of her pubis was vividly outlined by the panties. The perfumed 
silken fabric clung to the folds of her pussy. 

Her long, strong legs were sheathed in white nylons. Her legs were taut and 
beautifully contoured by her high heels with their dramatic arches. 

Thrown over her shoulders was a lacy, gauzy white wrapper which revealed as 
much as it concealed. 

Grover didn't bat an eye at seeing Althea greet him in her dramatic and 
beautifully bizarre costume. With all the years that he had spent in the 
flesh trade, he was basically unflappable. 

Grover said, "How's the new girl coming along?" 

"Real fine," Althea said. "I been, you know, showing her the ropes, ha ha." 
Her voice was husky and richly textured. When she spoke, she sounded like a 
cat purring. 

Grover said, "When can I put her ass to work?" 

"She's ready now," Althea said. "You want to take a look?" 

"Yes. We've got to have her out there making money for us as soon as 
possible," Grover said. 

Althea gently touched his cheek. "Roi Hibbler been putting the pressure on 
you, baby?" 

"Not directly. That motherfucker doesn't have to do it himself. He can just 
sit in his armor-plated, bomb-proof office and send his boys out," Grover 
said. 

He took a handkerchief out of the breast pocket of his custom-tailored suit 
and mopped his forehead. Sweat was beaded up in crystal drops on his high, 
sepia forehead. 

He said, "He's got that damned Truck Timmons following me all over town. No 
matter where I go, every time I turn a corner, that big son of a bitch is 
standing there waiting for me, just grinning away and cracking his 
knuckles." Althea said, "Come on and check out the girl. It'll take your 
mind off your troubles and cheer you up." 

Grover followed her across the plushly carpeted living room floor. The 
rounded cheeks of her ass jiggled under the taut fabric of her panties. 

It was a lovely sight, but Grover had too much on his mind to fully enjoy 
it. 

They went down a hall. Althea opened a door on her left. Grover followed her 
into a room. Another lovely sight met his eyes. 

There was a metal hoist bolted into a beam in the ceiling. Hanging down from 
the hoist was a gleaming length of chain. 

Padlocked and secured to the chain was Joan Farmingdale. She was naked. She 
stood on the floor in the center of the room with her arms raised straight 
over her head. 

Metal cuffs were fastened to her wrists like bracelets. Fastened to the 
cuffs was the chain. It was pulled just tight enough so that Joan had to 
stand on the balls of her feet to take the tension off her arms. 

Joan couldn't say a word. A gag was stuffed in her mouth, and secured to her 
head by an arrangement of leather straps and buckles. 

A stiff, thick black leather slave collar was fastened around her neck. It 
fit tightly without choking her. 

Clamped on each of her nipples was a clothes pin. The nipples were angry red 
and stiffly erect. 

A complicated leather belt contrivance held a butt plug lodged firmly and 
deeply in her anus. 

Jutting out from between the distended lips of her pussy was part of a black 
dildo. The rest of it was buried inside her. 

For a moment, as he looked at the blonde girl, Grover's financial troubles 
were momentarily swept aside by lust. 

His cock quivered, jerked, pulsed, and grew inside his pants until it was a 
firm, throbbing erection. 

He said, "She's looking good, Althea. Real good, honey." 

Althea said, "You need to keep a little bitch like this in bondage." She 
patted the girl's bottom. "Ain't that right, baby?" 

Joan couldn't, and didn't answer. Althea stroked Joan's taut, tensed thighs. 
Joan moved, ratttling her chains. 

Althea gripped the dildo. "How's this fit you, Joanie? Nice and tight? Is it 
deep enough? No? Let me fix that for you." 

Althea pushed the dildo in a bit deeper. Joan groaned through her gag. She 
quivered, rattling the chain more loudly this time. 

"Forget about that dildo," Grover said. "I've got something better than that 
to give her." 

"Do your thing, man," Althea said. "She's all yours-and I mean that 
literally." 

Grover took off his jacket and hung it up. He stripped off his tie and his 
shirt and undershirt. 

Muscles rippled on his lean but wiry black torso. He removed his shoes and 
socks and steadied himself by placing one hand against the wall while he 
took off his pants. 

He peeled off his shorts. His cock extended like a vertical black pipe from 
his hips. The veins on the shaft were as fat as earthworms. 

He went over to Joan. Althea said, "Ain't she a pretty little thing? She's 
almost too skinny, but then she's got real big tits. Not as big as mine, of 
course, but they're still plenty big." 

Grover said, "A lot of Johns are going to pay big bucks to suck on those 
tits of hers, and to fuck that little pussy." 

"She's good and tight, Grover. I been using the dildo on her, and I can tell 
you that she ain't hardly stretched out at all." 

Grover said, "I'll find that out for myself in a more direct manner." 

He embraced Althea. Because of her high heels, she stood in such a fashion 
that Grover's head was on line with her breasts. 

He kissed her nipples and squeezed her breasts. He reached behind her and 
slipped his hand under her panties and fondled her splendid buttocks. 

He broke the clinch after a minute or two. Althea said accusingly, "You made 
my nipples get hard, man. You gonna leave me strung out like this?" 

"Don't worry, Althea. I'll make sure that you get off." 

"You better," she said. 

Grover pulled the dildo out of Joan's pussy. He handed the artificial member 
to Althea. The shaft and head of it were gleaming with Joan's pussy juices. 

Grover took one of Joan's pussy lips between his thumb and forefinger and 
pulled it so that he could see the shining pink membranes of her pussy. 

He said, "She's clean. Clean and fresh." 

"Just like a little fucking princess," Althea smirked. 

Grover stood facing Joan. He held his cock and' rubbed the head of it 
against her thighs and her belly. 

Her legs weren't tied or chained. Grover unbuckled the leather straps 
holding the butt plug in place, He parted Joan's buttocks and pulled the 
plug out. Joan breathed deeply and shivered when it was removed from inside 
her. 

Althea asked, "You gonna fuck her in her ass?" 

"Not right now," Grover said. "That would be too much like work." 

He wrapped his brown hands on Joan's soft thighs and spread them. He moved 
her so that her feet were about twenty-five inches apart. 

He poked the head of his black dart against the incredible softness of her 
pussy lips. He rubbed his cock head up and down her slit. 

He played with her clitoris. Althea stood to one side, watching eagerly. She 
held the dildo, and she was licking Joan's pussy juices off it like it was a 
lollipop. 

Grover reached behind Joan and grasped her buttocks. The butter-smooth flesh 
seemed to ooze through his fingers. 

He pulled the girl toward him and thrust his cock inward and upward. Joan's 
nostrils widened and her chest heaved as she inhaled deeply. 

Grover clenched his buttocks and shoved his hips forward. His big black cock 
glided between her cunt lips and forced its way into her pussy. 

Joan squeezel her eyes shut. Grover shoved forward, burying his cock in the 
girl right up to the base of his shaft. 

He started rocking back and forth, ramming his cock in and out. The chain 
links rattled wildly now. 

Grover took one of the clothes pins off Joan's nipple. He dropped the pin on 
the floor. Her nipple was raw and sore and tender. He took it in his mouth 
and sucked it. 

Althea crossed the floor. Hanging on the wall was a rack with a variety of 
whips and straps and restraints on it. 

She took down a leather strap and returned to the center of the room. Grover 
took his mouth away from Joan's nipple for a minute. 

He said, "Don't mark her up too much, Althea. We got Johns who will pay big 
for that privilege." 

"I ain't gonna mark her," Althea said. "I just want to redden up her ass 
some. I like to see it go from white to red." 

Grover didn't answer. He had returned his head to Joan's breast and was once 
more chewing and nibbling her nipple. 

There was the sound of leather smacking against flesh as Althea brought the 
strap down across Joan's behind. 

The strap left a bright red rectangular imprint on the girl's bottom flesh. 
Joan jerked in her chains. 

Grover and Althea double-teamed the blonde girl. While Grover fucked her 
from the front, Althea strapped her ass from behind. 

Grover fucked her faster and faster until he came inside her. He could feel 
the mouth of her womb opening and closing on the knob of his shaft. 

His come gushed out over the inner walls of her pussy, cooling and soothing 
them. 

Althea put down the strap. Her arm was tired. Joan's ass was red from the 
small of her back to the tops of her thighs. 

Grover's eyes were heavy-lidded, and some of the tension had gone out of his 
face. He rested the side of his head against Joan's firm bosom. 

Grover took his cock out of her. It was pliant and rubbery and flexible. He 
said, "Let her loose, Althea." 

Althea used a key to unlock the wrist cuffs which manacled Joan to the 
chain. When her hands were free, Joan slumped in a heap on the floor. 

She was conscious, and her bright eyes looked warily at her two tormentors. 

Grover said, "Take the gag out of her mouth." 

Althea reached behind Joan's head and unbuckled the leather straps. The gag 
was loosened. Althea pulled it out of Joan's mouth. 

The gag was shaped like a penis and was attached to the leather straps. The 
penis gag was dripping with saliva. 

Althea showed it to him. "Pretty neat, huh?" 

"Once again, I prefer to give her the real thing," Grover said. 

He looked down at Joan. "Kiss my foot, bitch." 

Joan crawled over to him. Althea bent over and removed the other clothes pin 
which had been clamped to her nipple. 

Joan groveled in front of Grover. She pressed her red lips against the tops 
of his feet and kissed them lovingly. 

He turned so that his back was facing her. Turning his head so that he could 
look at her over his shoulder, he said, "Now, kiss my ass, Joan." . 

Joan rose up on her knees and pressed her face against his buttocks. She 
rubbed her lips against them, covering them with kisses. 

"Lick it," Grover said. Joan stuck out her pink tongue and ran it over the 
boyishly curved brown buttocks with long, broad strokes. 

Grover commanded, "Kiss me between the cheeks. Get your nose in there. Work 
your tongue around my rim." 

Joan held his buttocks apart and stuck her face between them. The cheeks 
pressed against her face. 

She stuck out her tongue and began to circle the tip of it around his tight, 
puckered asshole. 

She lanced her tongue inside him. Grover's cock jerked upward and rose up 
from his hips. 

Althea said, "Joan eats pussy real good, too. Black pussy. My pussy." 

"I'd like to see that," Grover said. "Joan, go over to Althea and go down on 
her. No, don't walk. Crawl to her." 

Joan pulled her face away from his ass and got down on her hands and knees 
and crawled over to the black Amazon. 

Althea tucked her thumbs into the top of her white silk panties and pulled 
them down to her ankles and stepped out of them. 

She had a thick, curly pubic bush, a triangle of black hair on the dark 
brown of her hips. Her cunt lips peered out lewdly from their hairy 
covering. 

Althea made Joan kiss both of her bottom cheeks before permitting her to go 
down on her pussy. 

Joan knelt and stuck out her tongue. She licked the outside of Althea's 
pussy lips, then ran her tongue inside the fleshy folds. 

Althea's buttocks were tightly clenched. She tilted her pelvis and thrust it 
forward, then ground her pussy against the blonde girl's mouth. 

Althea's clitoris was large and fleshy and unusually prominent. Joan pressed 
her tongue against it and rubbed it back and forth. 

Althea sighed deeply. She tilted her head to one side. Her eyes were 
shining. She pinched her fat nipples so that they were stiff and hard. 

Grover went over to them. He knelt down on the deep-pile carpet behind Joan. 
He made her get on her hands and knees. 

Joan's ass was raised high and level with his cock. She continued to tongue 
Althea's dripping wet pussy. 

Grover guided his cock into Joan's pussy. Holding her hips, he shoved his 
hips forward, plunging his cock all the way into her. 

Joan shuddered at the instant of penetration. Her long blonde hair brushed 
across her shoulders and her pink-tipped breasts. 

Grover fucked her hard and fast. Joan was not allowed to miss a beat in her 
tongue-lashing of Althea's clitoris. 

Grover pumped his hard brown cock into Joan until he came. Not as much semen 
gushed from his cock the second time as there had been during the first, but 
the orgasmic ejaculation felt even more intense. 

Grover pulled out of the girl. Sweat had dripped into his eyes and he 
brushed it away with the back of his hand. 

The beads and baubles in Althea's braided hair rustled and chimed as they 
brushed against each other. She was rocking back and forth on the balls of 
her feet under the ecstasy of the tonguing that Joan was giving her. 

Althea grabbed a handful of Joan's hair and pulled the girl's face against 
her pussy. The black Amazon shuddered as an orgasm hit her. 

Still somewhat out of breath, Grover told Althea, "Tomorrow you can put Joan 
to work."' 

 CHAPTER SIX 

Henry Limpopo was the official representative of the Central African nation 
of Bantutoland. He represented his country at the United Nations in New York 
City. 

His job was a living dream. Not only was he physically removed from the 
violent and bloody internal politics of his country, but he was living on an 
expense account in Manhattan, the most fantastic playground in the world. 

Henry was at play right now. He was a stocky, wide-faced black man, fifty 
years old, balding, with alert, crafty eyes. 

He wore a purple-and-orange dashiki, brown slacks, sandals. He was in his 
private quarters at Bantutoland's embassy in New York. 

He was not alone. He was sitting on a sofa between two beautiful women, one 
black, one white, both eminently desirable. 

Joan was sitting on his left. She wore a simple white dress with a pink 
belt. Henry was fondling her breasts through her dress. 

Althea was sitting on his right. She wore a red blouse and a black skirt and 
black patent leather high-heeled shoes. 

Althea was going along with Joan because Grover didn't think it would be 
smart to send her out on jobs without the proper supervision and control. 

Joan's hair was freshly washed and fell shimmering down her back. Her 
breasts were firm and pointed. They yielded under the insistent pressure of 
Henry's hot hands Henry was a good customer of Grover's. Grover's smooth 
assurance and polished front allowed him to move among circles that the 
average pimp could never crash. 

Henry was good for a couple of girls a week. He was a horny bastard, and he 
couldn't get enough of that young stuff. 

He was very pleased with Joan. She looked like a debutante, and, in a sense, 
this was her coining-out party. 

Joan was politely smiling as Henry groped her. Her aristocratic features 
were carefully composed, but there was a vacancy in her eyes. 

Althea's hand was in Henry's lap. His cock was hard and bulging in his 
trousers. Althea rubbed it. 

Henry pressed his face against Joan's breasts and rubbed it against them. 

He put his hand on her knee. He moved it upward, raising her skirt as he 
caressed her thighs. He couldn't keep his hands off her. 

Althea squeezed his hard cock and felt in throb against her palm in 
response. She said, "It looks like you're ready for bed, Mr. Ambassador." 

"Definitely, Madame," Henry Limpopo said. "Most assuredly." 

The three of them stood up. Henry took both the girls by the hand and led 
them into his bed chamber. 

It was a vast room, decorated with spears and tribal masks and carvings from 
his homeland. It was dominated by an immense bed. 

Henry reached under Joan's dress and fondled her buttocks. He murmured, 
"You're a pretty one, such a pretty one." 

Althea removed her ear rings and put them on top of a cabinet. She said, 
"Would you like to undress her, Mr. Ambassador, or should I?" 

"It will be my pleasure to take off the clothes from this young beauty," 
Henry said, breathing heavily. 

A golden zipper ran down the back of Joan's dress. Attached to the zipper 
tab was a small golden ring. 

Henry slipped his finger through the ring and pulled it down. The back of 
Joan's dress, opened into two folds, baring her back and behind. 

She wore a flesh-colored bra and lacy flesh-colored panties-that is, they 
were the color of her flesh, not that of Althea's and Henry's. 

Henry pulled the dress down. Joan stepped out of it. Henry inhaled 
reflexively when he saw her beautiful body. Her loveliness hit him like a 
punch in the gut. 

Althea took off her blouse. Her oversized breasts were supported by a wispy 
red lace bra. Her nipples thrust against the cups. 

Henry embraced Joan. His hands traveled up and down her body. He pressed his 
lips against hers and thrust his tongue into her mouth. 

He reached behind her and unhooked her bra and took it off her. He gasped 
involuntarily at her lush, gorgeous breasts. 

He cupped her breasts in his hands and pushed them together. He took his 
mouth off hers and lowered it to her bosom. 

He kissed her soft pink nipples. They hardened at the touch of his lips. He 
stuck out his tongue and licked them. The pink points gleamed with saliva. 

Althea came up behind him. In addition to her red lace bra, she wore a pair 
of panties made from the same material. Her brown flesh glowed with lust. 

She said, "Come on, now, Mr. Ambassador. Let's get them clothes off you so 
we'll all be naked together." 

"Quite so, quite so," Henry said with delight. 

Joan and Althea took hold of the bottom of his dashiki. He raised his arms 
over his head so they could take the garment off him. 

His belly was soft from too much good living on the embassy cocktail party 
circuit, but his shoulders were broad and his arms were thickly muscled. 

Althea unbuckled his belt and opened his pants. Joan pulled them down off 
his hips. 

Henry's cock jutted out like a length of black cable. He was uncircumcised. 

He hugged Joan. His cock stood up straight and was pressed between his belly 
and hers. 

Althea fondled his buttocks and made him squirm. 

Henry said, "Ah, you are not playing fair! I am undressed, but you two are 
not!" 

Althea said, "It's easy as pie to fix that, honey." 

She unhooked her bra and took it off. Her large breasts tumbled free and 
jiggled softly from side to side. 

She pulled off her wispy red panties and stepped out of them. She said, "Why 
don't you all take Joanie's panties off, lover man?" 

Henry didn't have to be told twice. He unpeeled the lacy undies off Joan's 
hips and pulled them down her polished thighs. 

He stuck his finger between the blonde girl's legs. Joan opened them wider 
and smiled mechanically. She was well trained. 

Henry poked her pussy, then slipped his middle finger inside Joan's pussy. 
He shoved it in and out of her, making her wriggle her hips. 

Henry patted and smoothed Joan's hair. He exerted a steady downward pressure 
on her, gentle but firm. 

Joan knew what to do. She got on her knees facing him. Still fondling her 
hair, Henry said, "Take my manhood in your pretty mouth, child." 

Joan did as she was told. She worked back the foreskin and delicately 
nibbled and tongued the tip of his cock. 

Henry gasped. His body quivered with excitement. Althea pressed herself 
against him. He rubbed his face against her breasts. 

Joan's golden head bobbed back and forth. Her puckered lips glided up and 
down his shaft. She made liquid slurping sounds. 

Henry squeezed Althea's breasts together. He jammed both her nipples into 
his mouth and sucked on them at the same time. 

Althea rubbed his broad back and squeezed and fondled his buttocks. They 
were tensed and quivering as he rocked his hips back and forth. 

Henry fucked Joan's mouth like it was a pussy. Her cheeks went hollow as she 
sucked on his cock. 

Henry didn't come in her mouth, however. When he found himself trembling on 
the brink of orgasm, he pulled out of her mouth. 

He held his throbbing cock over her face. He gave it a squeeze, and a jet of 
pearly white come spurted out of the swollen head. 

The come spewed on Joan's upturned face. She shut her eyes and gasped as the 
fluid spurted over her nose and cheeks and mouth. 

Henry and Althea laughed at the look of consternation and confusion on 
Joan's face. For a second, she looked like she might burst out crying. 

But she was well trained by her masters. She smiled as though having a 
stranger come all over her face was just the most delightful thing that had 
ever happened to her. 

Grinning up at Henry and Althea, she stuck out her tongue and licked the 
skin over her lips, slurping up the sticky semen as though it was a tasty 
treat. 

Althea relaxed. Although her face had been frozen in a mask of lust, she had 
been poised and ready to react if Joan had had a breakdown. 

Henry put his hand under Joan's arm and lifted her to her feet. He said, 
"Come, ladies, it's time to go to bed." 

Slipping a broad black forearm around each girl's waist, Henry led them 
across the long room to his massive, oversized bed. 

Joan lay down on the bed on her back. She opened her legs. She wet her 
finger and ran it along her cunt lips so that they gleamed wetly. 

She smiled invitingly. Henry stared down at her with lust in his eyes. 
Althea held his cock and gently massaged his swollen balls. 

Henry had remained hard after he came on Joan's face, and Althea's skilled 
manipulations restored all the vigor and firmness to his member. 

Henry said thoughtfully, "She has a most splendid body, but I must confess 
that I find her bottom particularly attractive." 

Althea said, "Turn over on your tummy, Joan." 

Joan rolled over and lay on her stomach. Henry's eyes widened as he stared 
at the rounded curves of Joan's bottom, with their smooth, creamy-white 
cheeks. 

"Yes, most attractive," he repeated. "Most attractive." 

Althea released him so that he could go to a nearby cabinet and fetch a tube 
of lubricant. 

Althea said, "Get on your hands and knees, Joan, and raise your butt high." 

Joan did as she was told. Her hands and knees sunk into the yielding 
softness of the mattress. 

Henry uncapped the tube and squeezed out some lubricant on his hands. He 
moved close to Joan and spread her buttocks and held them apart. 

He smeared the jelly in the crack of her bottom. He stuffed plenty of the 
goo around her tight, brown-ringed anus. 

Joan looked over her shoulder at him. Fear glimmered in her eyes. She said, 
"You're not going to stick it in my behind, are you?" 

Henry chuckled, "I must confess that that is exactly my intention, my dear. 
It is a charming native custom of my homeland, and one which I would not 
deny myself, particularly when I behold such an enchantingly curved rump as 
you have, child." 

Althea said lightly, but with an undercurrent of tension in her voice, "You 
just do what the man says and show him what a good girl you are, Joan. Don't 
give him no trouble, or I'll give you an ass-whipping right here and now." 

Henry said, "Tell me, do you really thrash this young lady's bottom?" 

"I do when she's a bad girl and doesn't mind me the way she should," Althea 
said. "I could do it now, if you'd like to see it." 

"I'm sure that would make a charming spectacle," Henry said, "but I am 
afraid that my eagerness to mount the girl will not permit me to delay for 
another minute." 

Althea said, "Watching me beat Joanie's ass is a sight worth seeing. I can 
do it to her after you're through, if you like." 

"That might be interesting," Henry said. 

"Or, you can take the rod to her ass and whip it cherry-red yourself." 

Henry said, "That might be even more interesting. But now, I grow impatient 
to take her." 

Althea squeezed his hard cock. "If you grow any more, you're gonna split the 
child straight down the middle." 

Henry chuckled at her little joke. Althea squeezed some lubricating jelly on 
her hands. 

She applied it liberally to Henry's cock, coating his stiff black member 
with a glistening coat of the jelly. 

She said, "I'm horny as hell myself, Henry. If you don't mind, I want to get 
me some lip service from Joan while you're laying her." 

Henry gestured toward the bed. "Be my guest, dear lady." 

Althea lay down on her back on the bed. She put a pillow under her bottom so 
that her pelvis was raised up. 

She positioned herself so that her black-haired pubis was only a few inches 
away from Joan's face. Joan knelt between Althea's legs. 

This way, the black Amazon could not only get her pussy eaten, but she would 
be at the ready to control the girl and bring her into line if she got balky 
and rebellious. 

Despite all the training that she had been given, Joan was still not totally 
at ease getting fucked in her ass. 

She was somewhat stretched out inside her ass, but not so much so that she 
didn't feel some discomfort when her anus was penetrated by a cock. 

The degradation and humiliation of it unnerved her more than anything else. 
Althea was determined to make sure that Joan didn't cause any incidents. 

The bedsprings creaked when Henry climbed on the mattress. He knelt behind 
Joan. He stuck two fingers inside her anus. 

They were well lubricated, and so was she, but Joan gasped as they pushed 
inside her. 

Henry moved his fingers around, wriggling them gently, stretching out the 
girl's sensitive membranes. 

He pushed his hips against her buttocks. His cock slid, downward so that the 
length of his shaft rubbed against her pussy lips. 

Henry lifted his cock and placed the head of it against the girl's anus. 
Joan's breathing came faster and faster. 

Henry stuffed the oily head of his cock inside Joan's bottom. He pushed it 
past the tightly clutching sphincter muscle. 

Pussy was delightful, but when all was said and done, Henry preferred to 
fuck his women in the ass. 

It was a habit acquired in his homeland. The women of his native country 
generally had so many children at an early age, that their cunts were 
stretched out of shape and no longer tight and gripping. 

When they wanted strong sons, the men of Bantutoland fucked their wives and 
concubines in their cunts. But when they were after pleasure, they turned 
their women over and fucked them in their still-tight behinds. 

Joan was wonderfully tight. Henry had to struggle to penetrate her. His 
breath came in quick panting gasps as he forced his cock inside her. 

Joan gasped and shuddered. Althea took hold of her hair with both hands and 
pulled the blonde girl's face down into her pussy. 

Henry's strong hands were like living shadows as they wrapped themselves 
around Joan's hips and pulled her snugly into him. 

A little more effort, and Henry was securely lodged inside her. She was 
tight and hot, and he gasped with ecstasy as he began to rock his hips back 
and forth, pumping his cock in and out of her. 

His belly rubbed against her curved buttocks. Joan's squirming moans were 
muffled by Althea's pussy. 

Althea kept the blonde girl's face firmly pressed against her cunt. Joan's 
soft red lips rubbed against Althea's fleshy pussy lips. 

Joan extended her tongue and buried it deep in Althea's cunt and lapped up 
her juices. Joan's body rocked back and forth as Henry hammered into her. 

Henry played with Joan's clitoris and her breasts. He really enjoyed the 
frenzied wriggling and squirming that she went into whenever he rubbed her 
pearly clitoris. 

Henry's cock pulsed and jetted cooling come inside the girl's vitals. Joan 
did not stop eating Althea's pussy. The big black woman writhed in ecstasy. 

Henry was ecstatic about the pleasure of penetrating and coming in Joan's 
ass. That did not prevent him, however, from commanding Althea to whip the 
shit out of Joan. 

When he had recovered his breath and his strength enough to move, Henry held 
Joan's quivering buttocks apart and eased his cock out of them. 

Some of his semen leaked out of her bottom and dripped on to the sheets. 
Henry slumped on his side and crawled up next to Althea. 

He told her that he would like to see how she disciplined Joan when she was 
a bad girl. 

Still somewhat breathless herself from the orgasm which had ripped through 
her as a result of Joan's hot tongue, Althea demanded to know if Joan had 
somehow displeased Henry. 

Not at all, he told her. Actually, he couldn't remember when he had enjoyed 
a piece of ass so much. He added, "With the exception of your lovely bottom, 
Althea, dear." 

"You're very diplomatic," she said. 

"I should be," he said, "it's my profession. No, I must confess that while 
Joan has totally enchanted me, I want to see you beat her bottom and bring 
hot tears to those lovely eyes." 

Henry lay back in the bed with his head propped up by pillows. Althea took 
Joan across her lap and beat her ass with a leather strap. 

Soon Joan was crying and thrashing helplessly on the black Amazon's knees. 
Althea hooked her leg around Joan's legs so that the blonde girl couldn't 
kick. All she could do was sob. 

Henry gripped his cock in his hand, pulling it frantically. Watching the 
beating of the blonde girl with hot eyes, Henry jerked himself off until 
pearly white come spurted out of the brown head of his hard cock. 

 CHAPTER SEVEN 

Finally, one week later, the time which Grover Webb had been eagerly 
awaiting arrived at long last. 

Convention time. 

Thousands of delegates from every corner of the country streamed into New 
York City. Every hotel in town was booked solid. 

The delegates were accompanied by another invasion, one which the town 
fathers did not welcome quite so enthusiastically. 

This was an invasion of hookers. In addition to the thousands of prostitutes 
who lived and worked in the Big Apple all year round, there was a legion of 
enterprising whores who had come to the city to make some cash from the 
convention. 

The ladies covered every variety of the spectrum. Their numbers ranged from 
mattress-back street hookers who charged twenty bucks to spread their legs, 
to elegant high-priced call girls who charged, and got, five hundred dollars 
for one night's work. 

And, of course, there was the great mass in between the two extremes. The 
ladies were available for every sexual preference, at a variety of prices. 

Grover Webb was determined to work his girls to death if he had to. Roi 
Hibbler was breathing hard down his neck. 

The first day of the convention was deadly dull. All the official business 
of the convention was deadly dull. 

The action was taking place in the privacy of the delegate's hotel rooms. 
During the day, some of Grover's girls had sessions of afternoon fucking 
with delegates who didn't want to bother with attending the weighty 
deliberations in the convention hall. 

The real action took place at night, like it always does. The first session 
of the convention broke up at midnight. 

The delegates went looking for girls and for booze as they streamed out of 
the convention hall at midnight. 

Grover had things set up but good. He had some connections with the upper 
echelons of the Party, and he had a potentially profit-making situation 
lined up for late that night. 

Althea got the girls ready for the evening's activities. In addition to 
herself, there was Joan, Lydia, Shirl, and Betsy. 

Lydia was an eighteen year old girl from Boston. She was thin, with sharp, 
pointed breasts, long legs, and a nicely rounded ass. 

Shirl was plump and voluptuous. She had been a confused rich girl who had 
been lost until Tony Parrow picked her up one afternoon. 

When he led her out of the hotel room three days later, the dazed and 
bruised girl knew exactly what she was-one of Grover Webb's whores. 

Shirl was stocky, with plump breasts, and a round, soft bottom. She liked 
getting fucked in the ass. 

After Joan, Betsy was the best looking girl of the lot. Her father was a 
high-level executive for one of the big petroleum importers. 

She looked like the all-American girl. She had big breasts, a wasp waist, a 
curved rump, and long legs. 

She was also a screaming masochist, and loved to be degraded and humiliated 
and forced to serve large groups of men. 

All the girls were in a small hotel room which Grover had rented months in 
advance of the convention. 

The hotel was near the convention hall, and it was serving as a kind of base 
of operations. 

Althea lined the girls and checked them out. They were well and tastefully 
dressed in expensive dresses, so they could fit right in with the delegates 
and not stick out like sore thumbs. 

Under their clothes, however, it was a different story. All the girls were 
wearing nylons and garter belts and provocative, sexy bras and panties. 

When Althea was satisfied that all the ladies passed muster, she said, "Let 
me run down what kind of a scene we're going to tonight." 

She put her hands on her hips and spread her legs shoulder-width apart. Her 
large breasts thrust against the glimmering fabric of her dress. 

She said, "We're going to a real exclusive party at one of the big hotels. 
Now, dig this. There's a little inner circle of big-shot politicians who 
hired us for tonight." 

"These mothers put on the big, straight front-all that family man, 
churchgoing bullshit-but believe you me, they are a bunch of kinky fuckers. 
They get off on bizarre sex." 

"So, you all just do whatever they tell you to do, and everything will be 
hunky-dory. Oh, and one more thing. You might have seen some of these jokers 
on TV, or in the papers. Just don't let on that you know 'em. Okay, girls, 
let's go." 

The girls, led by Althea, went in a group to the street and took a cab to 
the hotel where the party was being held. 

The hotel lobby was filled with raucous, drunken, merry-making 
conventioneers. They clustered around the lovely girls, but the group sent 
off a chill that discouraged those who tried to pick them up. 

They rode a private elevator to the penthouse suite. 

Inside the suite, the action was already going hot and heavy. It wasn't a 
party, it was a full-blown orgy. 

Apparently Grover's girls weren't the' only prostitutes engaged for the 
night. There were other ladies, and they were already quite busy. 

The room was crowded and smoky. Loud disco music blared through the massed 
bodies. 

People were in various stages of undress. 

Joan looked around. The noise and the heat and the spectacle hit her like a 
punch in the face. 

Her eyes roamed the room, focusing on various scenes that were going down. 

A silver-haired congressman from Utah was stripped naked and tied to a 
spanking block. A red-headed dominatrix in black leather was whipping his 
ass with a riding crop, and he was screaming for more. 

Two girls, identical twins from the looks of it, were kneeling face to face 
on the floor. They fondled each other's pink-tipped breasts. 

A small knot of hot-eyed, undressed men clustered around the twins. The 
girls stuck out their tongues and touched tongue tips. 

A blue-jowled man was sitting in a comfortable chair. His feet were resting 
on the back of the naked brunette girl who knelt before him. His fly was 
open and he was pumping his hard cock with his hand. 

A strong-legged table had been set up on one side of the room. Lying on it 
was a nude Oriental girl, with brown-nipples breasts and glowing amber skin. 

She lay on her back. She held an immense silver punch bowl on her flat 
belly. From time to time, various celebrants came over and coolly ladled 
punch into their crystal cups. 

A famous black boxer who had once been heavyweight champion and now dabbled 
in politics was amusing himself with a slim, red-haired girl. 

The girl was naked. Her skin was the color of milk. Her hair, which spilled 
over her breasts, was the color of flame. 

The onetime champion was proving that he was still a heavyweight in one 
department. His nine-inch cock was thrusting out of his open fly. 

The redhead knelt at his feet, her hair spilling across his thighs. Her pale 
lips wrapped around his throbbing cock. 

Joan took a deep breath and tried to calm herself. There was so much going 
on around her that it was quite overwhelming. 

A plump, smoothly hairless man wearing a dress bent face down over the arm 
of a sofa. Behind him stood a ginger-colored black woman. 

She wore a white half-bra which cupped her breasts and exposed her nipples. 
She wore a garter belt and stockings and black boots and no panties. 

Strapped around her waist was a big black dildo. She lifted the hem of the 
plump man's dress. His ass was red and bore the marks of a recent whipping. 

She took a handful of onion dip and smeared it between the man's fleshy 
buttocks. Then she shoved the dildo into his anus and penetrated him while 
he squealed and whimpered. 

A nude blonde woman stood between two black men. The blacks wore formal 
evening clothes. One of them opened his fly and took out his erect cock. 

He pulled the woman's head down to his member. She opened her mouth wide and 
took his cock inside it. 

The second black man stood behind her with a leather strap. While she sucked 
the first man's cock, the second man whipped her ass red. 

A brown-skinned man with a chocolate-brown suit and a yellow shirt sat in a 
chair, calmly sipping a drink. He held two leashes. 

Kneeling on either side of his chair were two women. One was white, and the 
other was black. 

The white woman had a thick mane of chestnut hair shot through with red 
highlights. Her eyebrows were dark and heavily arched, and her mouth was 
red. 

She was naked. Her hard nipples looked like rubies pasted on to the tips of 
her softly swelling, dangling breasts. 

She had wide hips. She knelt on her folded legs, and her thighs were taut. 
Her pubic bush was thickly haired and reddish-brown. 

Fastened around her neck was a leather collar. One end of the leash was 
clipped to an iron ring set in the collar. 

The black woman was long and slender, with pear-shaped breasts. Her brown 
nipples were hard and erect. 

Her hair was a tightly cropped Afro that lay close to her elegant skull. Her 
flesh was a rich cocoa color. 

She, too, wore a slave collar. A leash was clipped "on to it, and the other 
end of the leash was held by her master. 

Joan stared at the women. Both of them had identical marks high on their 
right hips. Joan realized with horror that it was a brand that had been 
burned into their flesh. 

Standing next to her, Betsey shivered with fearful anticipation. "Wow, this 
is some party, huh?" 

Before Joan could reply, a big black man who had been a star quarterback and 
a doctorate-producing scholar grabbed Betsey by the wrist and dragged her 
away. 

Joan knew that she had seen the black man before, in a national news 
magazine, but she couldn't recall his name. 

The big man didn't bother to introduce himself to Betsey. In less than a 
moment, he had her dress off. 

He pulled down Betsey's lacy panties. She wore a frilly garter belt and 
dark, seamless nylons and a wispy black bra. 

The black man bent her forward at the waist. Betsey put her hands on the arm 
of a chair to keep her balance. 

The black man loosened his pants, and they tumbled to his ankles. His stiff 
cock jutted out from his hips like a handle of flesh. 

He took off Betsey's bra and fondled and squeezed her breasts. She 
whisperingly begged him to be rough with her, and hurt her. 

The black man pinched her nipples cruelly, until the girl's face was creased 
with pain. She moaned, but she begged for more. 

The black man's hard, strong hand came down on her ass, striking it so 
loudly that the impact could be heard over the pounding disco music. 

He spanked Betsey again and again, until her white ass was red and burning. 
He rubbed his cock in the cleft between her soft buttocks. 

He spread her legs with his hands until she stood with her feet wide apart. 
He forced the head of his cock into the girl's pussy, then shoved forward, 
brutally burying his hard member all the way inside her. 

Joan felt a hand touching her shoulder. She turned around to see who it was. 
It was Althea, smiling wickedly. 

Althea said, "Take off your dress, bitch. This is a party, remember?" 

Joan unzipped her dress and pulled it off. She was wearing white stockings, 
a silver-blue garter belt trimmed with white lace, and a matching pair of 
silver satin panties and bra. 

"That's better," Althea murmured, "much better. Get your ass in gear and get 
to work, Joan. Otherwise, I'm gonna have to whip your butt right here." 

Fortunately for Joan, at that very minute a man hurried over to her. He had 
blue-black hair, a thin face, and a lipless fish mouth. 

He caressed Joan's stockinged legs. He said, "Well, hello! Where have you 
been all my life, doll?" 

Joan smiled and shrugged. The man stood behind her and pressed his groin 
against her pantied bottom. She felt his cock hardening. 

There was a stir, a disturbance at the opposite end of the room. The man who 
was groping her said, "Hell of a party, eh? Hey there's our host!" 

The door at the far end of the room opened, and the host stepped into the 
crowd of well-wishers and fun-makers. 

He was very bizarrely dressed. He wore an adorable little black leather 
micro-skirt, dark nylons, and high-heeled shoes. 

He wore a curly, mop-topped wig, and his face was heavily made up, with dark 
brows, powdered cheeks, and a red-lipped mouth. 

That didn't stop Joan from recognizing him. She felt like she had been 
struck by lightning. 

She pressed her hands against her head and screamed, "Oh no! I can't believe 
it! It's Senator Weal!" 

Senator Weal, the host and life of the party, opened his red-lipsticked 
mouth and shouted, "Good God! It's JOAN!!!" 

 CHAPTER EIGHT 

Grover Webb and Tony Parrow were drinking wine and snorting cocaine in 
Grover's apartment. Grover was happy and high. 

He said, "Shit, man, if I keep making as much money for the rest of the 
convention as I'm making tonight, I won't have a worry in the world!" 

The phone rang. Grover picked it up. "Hello?" 

At the other end, Althea said, "The jig is up, baby." 

Grover frowned. "What is this, a bad joke?" 

"You could call it' that," Althea said. "Everything's gone to hell in a hand 
basket." 

"What are you trying to say, woman?" 

Althea said, "That dumb-ass Tony Parrow fucked up big, man. You know who 
Joan used to work for? Get this-her boss used to be Senator Weal before Tony 
recruited her." 

"Bullshit." 

Althea said, "He saw her, and she saw him, and that was it, Jack. The roof 
fell in. I was lucky to get my ass out of there in one piece. The cops are 
gonna be all over your ass, man. You better blow town while you can. 
Goodbye, and good luck." 

There was the click of the phone hanging up, and then a dial tone. Grover 
stared stupidly at the receiver for a minute. 

Tony said, "Hey, man, you look like you shit your pants. Something wrong?" 

"You could say that," Grover said pleasantly. "Excuse me, I'll be right 
back." 

Grover went into his bedroom and got his gun. He went back into the living 
room and pointed the revolver at Tony Parrow. 

Grover said, "You dumb motherfucker." 

He emptied the revolver into Tony's head. 

He kept on pulling the trigger long after the gun was empty. 

Grover packed his bag and threw his cash in it. He rode the elevator down to 
the street and went out in front of his building to look for a cab which 
would take him to the airport. 

The street was deserted. Up the block, a parked car turned on its lights and 
cruised down the street. 

It rolled to a stop in front of him. Grover did a double-take. Truck Timmons 
was sitting in the driver's seat, grinning at him. 

Roi Hibbler was in the back. He had a fat 45 in his hand and it was leveled 
at Grover. 

Roi said softly, "Going somewhere?" 

Grover stammered a feeble explanation. Roi cut him off by saying, "Get in 
the car, motherfucker-unless you want to get it right here." 

Grover got in the car, and Truck drove away. 

A short time later, the car stopped on an empty side street. Truck got out 
and went around to the back and hauled Grover's dead body into the gutter. 

Roi said, "Don't litter the street with that trash. Throw him in the litter 
basket." 

Truck dumped the body in the trash basket. He got in the car and drove away. 
Roi said, "We got to do our bit to keep Fun City clean." 

"Right, boss," Truck said, chuckling and grinning. 

The car drove far away from where Grover Webb's corpse had been dumped. 
There were no cops in sight. There never are. 

Truck said, "Where to, boss?" 

Roi leaned forward. "Head on over to that little crib I've got up by the 
Avenue." 

"Right on," Truck said. He turned left and headed for the Avenue. 

Roi felt in an expansive mood. It had been a good kill. It had been a long 
time since he had gone out into the field and handled a hit himself. It felt 
good to know that he could still cut the mustard. 

He offered Truck one of his cigars. Truck took it, saying, "Don't mind if I 
do. Thank you kindly." 

Roi said, "I've got that little white girl, that Marilu, stashed over to my 
place on the Avenue." 

"How is she, boss?" 

"Fine," Roi chuckled. "Real fine. She makes me feel like a young man all 
over again. She's fine, foxy, and loving." 

"Dig that." 

"You ought to get yourself one of those little white bitches, Truck," Roi 
said. "They'll treat you right." 

"Maybe I will at that." 

"Shit, the sisters know all our games," Roi said, "but those white gals are 
soft and sweet." 

Truck said, "Shit, maybe I'll get me one of Grover Webb's girls. He sure 
ain't gonna have no more use for them." 

"Not unless there's fucking in hell," Roi said. "How'd you like to be a 
player, Truck? I'll set you up with Grover's stable. You'll get yourself 
some fine clothes, a bad hat, a real gone pimp-mobile, and a bunch of fly 
bitches. What do you say?" 

"No thanks, boss," Truck laughed. "I love to fuck, but I ain't no 
businessman. I be fucking them bitches so much, they wouldn't be able to 
make no money off the Johns!" 

"That's okay, Truck. It's a wise man who knows his limitations." Roi puffed 
on his cigar. "Too bad Grover didn't know his." 

Truck pulled up in front of the apartment building on the Avenue. Roi said 
good night, and got out of the car. Truck watched him enter the building. 
Then he drove away. 

Roi rode the elevator up to his apartment. He didn't know if it was the 
excitement of the kill, or the fine fucking that Marilu had been giving him, 
but his cock was hard when he put his key in the lock. 

Marilu ran to greet him. She was wearing a sexy white teddy with a plunging 
V-neckline and plenty of lace. 

Her ripe breasts bounced as she hurried to him. The other day, Roi had taken 
her shopping and bought her a closet full of sexy lingerie and nightwear. 

He scooped Marilu up in his arms and swung her around. She shrieked and 
giggled. She was his little doll, his perfect toy. 

Roi carried her into the living room and dropped her on the couch. He could 
see her pubic bush through the lace trimmings of her garment. 

Marilu sat up. One of her breasts popped out of the V-neck. Her nipple was 
pink and soft. She started to put her breast inside her nightie. 

"Don't do that, honey," Roi rumbled. "Take the other one out." 

"Sure, Roi." Marilu had pleased him so well that he permitted her to call 
him by his first name when they were alone. 

Of course, when they were with others, particularly his underlings and 
associates, the girl had to call him "Mr. Hibbler". 

Marilu shrugged her shoulder, and her other breast popped out of the 
nightie. She smiled wickedly at him. 

Roi said, "I got something for you, honey." 

"Oooooh! What is it?!" 

"Good news." Roi paused. "Grover Webb is dead." 

"That is good news." Bitter memories of the pimp brought a scowl to her 
face. "What did he die of?" 

"Lead poisoning." Roi chuckled at his own joke. "I've got something else for 
you, too." 

"What?" 

"This." Roi pulled down his zipper. His large black cock with its broad head 
tumbled out of his fly and dangled in the girl's face. 

"Yummy!" Marilu licked her lips and wrapped them around the head of his 
cock. She slurped and sucked and worked the knobbed head of his member 
around in her mouth. 

Roi smiled down benevolently at her. After she had sucked on him for a 
moment, he gently but firmly eased his cock out of her mouth. 

She moaned with disappointment, but perked up when she saw the big black man 
start to take off his clothes. 

Roi said, "I want you in your birthday suit, little girl." 

Marilu took off her teddy. She was nude and her flesh was shining and her 
nipples hardened under Roi's gaze. 

Then the black man took off the last of his clothes, and he was naked, too. 
His cock jutted out in front of him. 


THE END
