Chapter 5

The next few days were sheer torture for Betty. Every waking moment, her brain was taunted with images of her wanton submission to Harvey Peterson's lewd fingering, and her ears seemed to be filled with her lascivious moans of pleasure. She couldn't seem to focus her attention on anything, and she couldn't shake loose from her brain the horrible memory of how she had acquiesced so easily to the modeling agent's manipulation. But even that wasn't the worst part, as far as Betty was concerned. If she had merely allowed Harvey to stroke her genitals, she wouldn't feel such self disgust and loathing, but she had enjoyed the lewd act to such an extent that she could not forgive herself. The very basic tenets of her upbringing balked at this betrayal by her body, and a cloud of humiliation seemed to follow her wherever she went.

The one thing that gave her a slight feeling of relief was that Doug didn't seem to notice anything. Betty was sure that her guilt was written all over her face, but luckily she had already been in bed when Doug had come home that night. But during the next few days, although she didn't really see too much of him, he didn't make any comment and Betty decided that the best thing to do was to forget the whole business, if she could. But that proved more difficult than she imagined. Her conscience was haunted by the enormity of her transgression, while her body continued to experience a kind of buoyant exhilaration which she had never felt before. At times, she even found herself thinking almost longingly of the sensual tremors which had cavorted up and down her spine when Harvey had been caressing her vagina, but she quickly put those illicit thoughts out of her head.

Since that episode with Peterson, she found that she just couldn't face the morning without the soothing additive of brandy in her coffee, and usually she had several cups of that. It was at moments like that, when her body was relaxed and untense, when she began to feel the recollective murmurs of pleasure. The strong liquor seemed to dull her brain, and with it, her ever- sharp conscience, while at the same time, it honed the edge of her senses and emphasized the physical frustration she felt.

It was weeks now since Doug had touched her--ever since that time when he had taken her rectally--and her body, grown accustomed to a regular diet of love-making, was beginning to feel the deprivation. She felt that that was the reason for her complete and total release that day when Harvey had stroked and fingered her vagina. But right now, she knew she was in a quandary. Things were going from bad to worse in their marriage, and she hardly saw Doug anymore. Now this contact with Harvey looked like it was falling through, and she couldn't rely on being a model as an out from her problems. She didn't know whether she wanted to hear from Peterson again. On the one hand, she didn't know if she could face him again, after her wanton display of lust just a few days ago. But, on the other hand, the future he had woven for her as a part-time model was a very enticing one, especially in her forlorn, desperate state, and it would be just terrible if she had to forget all about it now.

However, she didn't think that Harvey would get in touch with her. How could he, after what he had done to her? But Betty just didn't know what to do. Doug didn't show signs of wanting a reconciliation, and although she really didn't want to, she would make the first effort, if she wasn't afraid of being rebuked. That was the trouble--Doug just didn't seem interested any more. It was obvious that he didn't care what she was doing or feeling, and there was no telling how long that state of affairs would go on. And, she reflected bitterly, the root of the problem lay in Doug's despicable behavior. If he hadn't brutalized her that night, if he hadn't forced her to submit to his disgusting anal intercourse, she probably would never have listened to Harvey Peterson for a moment. It was only because she was so upset and depressed over that incident that she went along with Peterson... and where it had lead her?

Tears brimmed her eyes and trickled down her face. She had finished her second cup of coffee and brandy, and she still didn't feel an better. It was now four days since she had seen Harvey and had allowed herself to be so disgustingly used, and things seemed to be getting worse.

Dear God, what am I to do? Betty wept helplessly, unable to hide her misery and unhappiness any longer.

At that moment, the phone rang.

For a long second, Betty stared at the instrument, hardly able to believe that it was actually ringing. Probably a wrong number, she told herself, and then with alacrity, she leaped up and grabbed it.

"Hello!" she said breathlessly.

"Hello! Is that Betty?" It was Harvey!

The blood drained from Betty's face and her head started to reel.

"I hope you're not busy today," Harvey said quickly, "because I've got an assignment for you tomorrow."

"An assignment?" Betty echoed, her brain racing.

"Yes, at 9:30 tomorrow morning. And you're to wear their clothes, so you've got to go for a fitting today. You'll be paid half your hourly fee for that. Can you make it at 12 noon today?"

Betty was speechless. Her thoughts divided abruptly in her dazed brain and she didn't know what to say. She had an assignment, tomorrow! She just couldn't believe it... but how could Harvey call her like that, without any word or reference to what happened.

"Well, can you make it?" Harvey barked impatiently.

"Harvey, I don't..." Betty stammered, still not knowing what answer to give. Oh God, she'd love to take the job, but shouldn't she just disassociate herself completely from Peterson?

"Look, let me put it this way. The client, Nor-Dansk Furniture, are only just sold on you. They originally picked a blonde because of the Scandinavian image, but I sold them on the idea of a redhead as a gimmick. Now if you don't want it, or are you going to be choosy, they'll jump for the blonde!"

No, I couldn't bear to lose it, Betty thought immediately. There's no harm in it... I probably won't see Harvey again for a long time, and it is just what I want... a chance to break into modeling.

"Okay, Harvey, I'll be there..." Betty said breathlessly.

"Good girl," Harvey said, and gave her an address in one of the best sections of town. "All right, I'll see you at noon," he said as he hung up.

For a moment, Betty was stunned with her good news. She was going to be a model! A glance at the clock told her she had only an hour to get there, and she hurried into the bedroom. Then she recalled Harvey's parting shot. He'd be there! Trepidation filled Betty's heart. Harvey would be there, and she'd have to face him again.

But she wouldn't back out. She had to see him again sooner or later, and besides, there was bound to be other people there. No, she'd have to take the plunge. After all, that was what life was all about. What happened a few days ago was all a mistake. If Harvey tried anything like that again, she'd let him know where she stood...

Harvey Peterson, noting that it was almost noon, poured himself a drink and offered one to Jean. Betty would be here at any moment and if she saw that they were already drinking, she'd accept one more willingly. She really swallowed everything I told her, he congratulated himself. Still, he had to admit that he was feeling a little nervous. But that was not surprising. Betty was one hell of a woman and he didn't want to slip up. Of course, the client had been thrilled when they saw the shots of her and had wanted her immediately but Harvey thought he'd throw that bit in about the blonde to make the bait more appetizing. With hesitant types like Betty, you couldn't be too careful. He hadn't really been surprised at Nor-Dansk Furniture's wild response to the shots, and had hedged that he had to see if she was available. Well, if things worked out his way this afternoon, he just might get Betty to do the ad for them. After all, it would keep her happy and would result in a nice, fat fee for him.

At that moment, the doorbell sounded and Harvey knew that it was Betty. She was wearing a very elegant pantsuit and appeared poised and calm. But she seemed surprised that there was no one else but himself and Jean there.

"In cases like this, when we're in a real hurry, Jean and I just pick up the outfits from the client and fit them here in my apartment. It saves time and a lot of trouble."

Betty thought the explanation plausible and greeted Jean warmly. There was a sort of rapport between the two women and Betty was genuinely glad to see the older woman again.

"Any problems with fitting, Jean can handle it," Harvey assured her, and then offered her a drink.

"But shouldn't we..." she began hesitantly.

"A quick drink will loosen you up," Peterson told her and poured her a double Scotch.

Betty accepted it and sat beside Jean on the sofa.

"The ad is to be built around an elegant sitting room, with Nor-Dansk furniture the main attraction. But they want to have a very stunning woman, who is obviously getting ready to entertain some guests, to adorn the furniture. And that's where you, and these dresses," pointing to several long evening gowns, "come in!"

"They're beautiful!" Betty gasped in awe.

"The client thinks you're far more beautiful," Harvey said truthfully. "Now if you're ready, Jean can help you into one of the dresses. Try the silver lame one first."

Betty, when she stood up, found that she almost lost her balance and had to cling to the other woman for support. Oh God, what did I drink? she wondered as she stumbled over to the other room. Her head seemed to be reeling and she was glad that Jean was helping her, as the dress was tight and close-fitting. But when it was finally on, it looked as if it had been molded to her body. Jean wouldn't let her wear a brassiere, and the low, deep "vee" in front emphasized her voluptuously full breasts. There was a split, almost thigh-high in one side and the shimmering material sparkled and glinted as she moved. Jean wouldn't allow her to wear panties or stockings, either, saying that unless they were specially made, they would spoil the lines of the dress. Betty had felt strange about stripping completely naked in front of the other girl, but Jean didn't even seem to notice. She added a few touches to Betty's mane of tawny hair and then ushered her out to where Harvey was waiting.

Betty had forgotten almost about her incident with Harvey because he had been so pleasant, and so businesslike, but now, as she stepped into the living room, clad in the sexy, provocative dress, the memory of her submission and arousal came flooding back and crimsoned her face with embarrassment. Harvey's eyes seemed to devour her body, feasting on her sensual cleavage, riveting on the smooth sweep of her graceful hips.

"Pretty good... pretty good..." he said at length, after he had instructed her to turn slowly around. "But I think the black might be better!"

"I think this one is pretty spectacular," Jean said, and Betty had to agree with her.

"No, let's try the black," Harvey insisted. "After all; you don't want to outshine the furniture!"

Jean moved towards Betty and began to pull down the zipper of the dress.

"But... but..." Betty said startled, as she felt the edges of the dress fall away from her back. "Let's go into the other room!" she finished quickly.

"Why, honey?" Harvey sniggered. "I already know all your secrets..."

Betty felt a fiery blush creeping up her face. What did he mean? He had seen her body naked, when he had taken those photographs, but was he referring to the other day when he had fingered her pussy?

"I'd rather change in the other room," she said meekly, turning towards the door.

"Oh, don't be silly, Betty," Jean said briskly, easing down the dress, revealing Betty's proudly upswept breasts, the nipples already stiff and erect.

"Please, Jean," Betty began, tears starting to her eyes.

"You've got nothing to hide, have you?" Harvey said, his voice vaguely sneering.

Betty felt as if she had been turned to stone, and she stood motionless as Jean slipped the dress down over her hips. Numbly, she stepped out of it, and stood there, naked and shivering.

"Go get that black number, will you, Jean?" Harvey asked.

"Why, where is it?" Betty asked, suddenly not wanting to be alone with Harvey.

"It's just out in the car; I won't be a moment," Jean replied, and Betty was aware of mounting panic. This was just like the other time, when Jean had left on a sudden pretext. Betty had been left alone with Harvey...

She turned wild, staring eyes on him, as if seeing him for the first time.

"Don't worry," Harvey said smoothly, "Jean'll be back in a moment. In the meantime, just relax. Sit down and make yourself comfortable..."

As if in a daze, Betty sat down on the sofa, and as she did so, Harvey moved very close to her, and then, he was kissing her! For a moment, she was too surprised to do anything as his lips bruised down on hers, and his tongue shot between her unresisting teeth. His arms were tight around her and his jacket felt rough on her bare, naked flesh.

"Stop it! Stop it!" she said at last, recovering her equilibrium, desperately drumming at his chest.

"Why should I?" Harvey leered. "Just relax and you'll enjoy it!"

"Leave me alone! Get away from me or I'll scream!"

Harvey laughed, a coarse, triumphant laugh.

"What if someone comes running after you scream? What then?" Betty stared at him uncomprehendingly.

"They'll see you sitting here, completely naked, and what'll they think?" he elaborated gleefully.