Chapter 7

She awoke with a start, with a stifled scream in her throat as she sat up, rigid, wild-eyed. Almost as quickly, she groaned aloud and held her head with both hands and fell back on the bed. One swift glance before pain shot through her head and eyeballs told her she was at home. She fell back with a low moan. At least she was home, in her own bed. She was safe.

Her hangover was monumental. She had never had one before in her whole life and she wondered how she was going to get through the day.

Then events started happening. So much happened so fast that she almost forgot her hammering headache. A new kind of sickness was to overtake her: fear! In a few minutes Nancy was going to feel something not many people care to experience or know: she was going to find out what it was like to be blackmailed.

The door to the bedroom opened and Nancy gasped, pulling the covers up. She sighed with relief as she saw it was Rita. Good old Rita with a cold glass of tomato juice in one hand and a fizzing glass of Bromo Seltzer in the other. Without saying a word, she offered the Bromo to the grateful young wife who took it with trembling hands and gulped it down. Next, she grabbed the tomato juice and gulped. Anything wet tasted good. Rita sat on the edge of the bed and looked down. She seemed different to Nancy; a little woe-be-gone, a little defeated. Nancy assumed she was suffering from a hangover too. Rita looked down at her hands and bit her lip. Tears, like glistening slivers, welled up in her eyes. She looked down at Nancy and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Nancy put a protective hand on her own fevered forehead and nodded. "God, I've never felt so awful in all my life. Rita..." she looked up at her old school friend. "I... I don't remember everything. I... I guess I got kind of out of bind"

Rita brushed her tears away and smiled bravely. "You were just... carried away, that's all"

"I'm so ashamed."

"Don't be."

"Rita," she gripped her friends hand. "Promise me one thing. Promise me you'll never tell Allan. Above all, he mustn't know."

Rita looked away, starting to cry again.

Nancy propped herself up on one elbow, holding the sheet up in front of herself to cover her nudity. "Rita, what's the matter? What did I do? Did I say something awful or did I do something terrible?" She looked around suspiciously. "Say, how did I get here?"

Rita controlled herself. "You passed out, and Tom and I brought you home. You didn't do or say anything. In fact, the owners of the bar were a little worried when you passed out. They were worried about a lawsuit, so they helped us get you dressed, and Tom and I brought you home. I undressed you and got you to bed."

Nancy sank back on the pillow again. "Thank God."

"It's not what you think."

"Huh?"

"It's not what you think," Rita went on in a hard voice. "My life. Tom's. He was a different person when I first met him. Now... it's all different. It's not what you think."

Nancy was feeling too awful to fully comprehend what Rita was trying to tell her. "What do you mean?"

Rita was obviously upset and barely controlling herself. "Tom and me... it's not what it looks like. Tom is drinking too much and... he's different."

"Rita, what are you getting at."

Rita seemed grateful for the chance to talk. For the first time Nancy noticed how hollowed her eyes were and how her hands shook. "Tom found some weaknesses in me. He saw it. We make so much money, but we're always in debt. Tom says you have to spend money in order to make money. He drinks too much... and... well... some of the parties get a little... raw."

Nancy nodded. "Like last night."

Rita shrugged. "Last night was really pretty tame compared to some... parties."

Both girls were silent, looking questioningly at one another. Rita's hands were clenched together in her lap. "You see... Tom knows... well, he knows I like to do certain things. And... well, each client is more important than the last. Tom puts out money to make connections and the clients are getting bigger and bigger and... they want more."

Again, they were silent, looking at one another. Rita tried to manage a smile. "Tom uses me. Uses my body. He's going to use yours."

Nancy sat up in bed, her hangover forgotten. "Rita, do you know what you're saying?"

Tears welling again, Rita could only nod. "I need a drink," she managed to choke. She staggered up from the bed and across the room. At the door she bumped into Tom. He laughed and stepped aside, somewhat unsteady on his feet.

Rita ran from sight, and Nancy checked her covering and sank back into bed. Tom stood by the door with an inevitable drink in his hand, his face red and beefy, a drunken smile on his face. "Knock, knock," he said.

"What's the matter with Rita?" Nancy asked, her voice calm and cool.

Tom sauntered into the room, casually waving a hand, "You know how women are. Probably hung over. Say, speaking of little old hangovers, how's our little old star, huh?" He came to the edge of the bed and grinned down at her.

"Tom, I'm ashamed of what I did."

Drunkenly, he waved a hand. "Don't be. Was great, jus' great." He drank, winking at her and pointing at the glass. "Little old hair-of-the-dog. Have one?"

Nancy groaned and felt her stomach churn. "Tom, would you leave for a moment? I want to get dressed."

"Why?" he leered. "I've seen you. Oh, almost forgot. Got something for you." He casually reached into his jacket pocket and brought out an envelope. He tossed it on the bed. "Little something for you."

Curious, Nancy picked the envelope up and opened it. It was heavy with glossy pictures... snapshots of her. She gasped. There she was, stark naked and being pawed by strange men with tattoos on their arms and leers on their faces! Her own expression was one of drunken abandon and wild ungovernable excitement. She looked up, nostrils flaring, at a grinning Tom. "Any of those you want blown up, just let me know."

"You... you..." words failed her as her face reddened in shame and anger. "You... scum!"

He frowned then grinned again. "That's a little harsh, I'd say."

"You took these?"

"Thought maybe you'd like a little memory of a wild night. Something to look at on a long winter night. Something for you and Allan to enjoy."

Nancy stared up at his red, grinning face. She was too stunned and angry to say anything. She looked at the pictures once again. There were no negatives in the envelope. She looked up at him with real hatred and fear coming over her. Quietly, she asked, "Okay, what do you want?"

"Well, for one thing, I want another drink. Nice Scotch Allan keeps."

"Don't be funny. How much?"

Tom shrugged and looked innocent. "I don't know what you mean."

One lacquered fingernail tapped the envelope. "How much do you want for the pictures and negatives? You're blackmailing me, aren't you?"

Tom looked incredulous. "Me? Blackmail? Oh, baby, have you got the wrong idea. Listen... I just took those because I thought you'd like having them. Honest! Hell, it was just a joke."

Nancy looked at him dubiously. "Honest? I can have the negatives?"

"Hell, yes! I don't have them with me. Listen, I want us all to be friends! Blackmail? Believe me, that's the farthest thing from my mind. Hell, all we have to do is go on being friends. Hell, I don't want you doing anything that you don't really enjoy."

Nancy frowned, a cold bar of fear forming in the pit of her stomach. "What?"

Tom waved a beefy hand and was very casual. "I'm whipping up something for a client. Be nice if you were there, you know, just to... well, entertain a little."

"Entertain?"

"Yeah, you know. Fool around. Like last night. I wouldn't ask you to do anything that you wouldn't want to do."

"Tom, are you serious?" She sat up in bed, holding a sheet around her big pointed breasts.

Tom's expression changed completely. He went from a benign chuckling state, to a nasty seriousness. "You'll see just how serious I am if you don't show up when and where I tell you!"

"T... Tom, you're... insane!"

"Am I?" His boozy bloodshot eyes stared down at her. "We'll see. Listen, I don't want money from you. All I want you to do is what you're dying to do and haven't got enough guts."

"W... what?"

"Don't try to snow me. I know what you're like under all that good breeding and debutante crap. Listen, I saw you during that movie." His beefy face was thrust in front of hers and she could smell the alcohol on his breath. With a sudden snarl and a swiftness and strength that surprised her, he snatched at the sheets and pulled them down. Involuntarily, Nancy huddled defensively, putting her legs together and putting her hands over her breasts and pubic hair. Tom smirked down at her naked cowering. "See... I know what you're like. I watched you watching that Scorpio film. Well, I'm going to tell you something." His voice dropped low. "I'm going to stage a thing just like that. I'm going to set it up, and guess who's going to star? You!"

Nancy was speechless with horror as she tried to hide her defenselessly naked body from his contemptuous gaze.

He laughed harshly. "Okay, blackmail. If you want those pictures back, you'll do it. You'll do as I say and when I say it. If not... copies go to your husband, old Allan the stuff shirt, and copies go to the Board of Allan's bank. In fact, I'll sell those pies anywhere I can. That's it."

"You filthy scum!"

Tom straightened up with an easy grin. "Maybe, but you be there or explain a lot to Allan. I'm sure he'll understand."

"Drunken bastard!"

Tom looked at his empty glass and nodded. "Maybe. But you'd better be there when I call." He chuckled, wagging his head. "I don't know why I'm going on about it. Hell, you'll be there."

She flared up, almost shouting. "What gives you that wild idea?"

He looked at her for a minute before he spoke. When he spoke, it was with a voice that was quiet and easy, carrying the conviction of truth. "You'll be there. You'll come and I'll give you the negatives. But you'll be there, because you really want to be there. You're basically an exhibitionist at heart... an exhibitionist and a masochist... and an over-sexed broad."

Nancy was too stunned. Stupidly, she said, "What?"

He went on, quiet, confident. "You love it, Nancy. You're dying for it. Admit it, you loved it all, the motion picture, the men last night!"

"N... no!"

"You love it. I'm an alcoholic, but I know what you are, and you'll be there." He sauntered to the bedroom door and held up the glass. "Thanks for the drinkee-poo and I'll be calling you." He stepped out, closing the door, leaving Nancy to face herself.

And that had been the beginning of it all. The blackmail had started with that one drunken night. And it was as if Nancy Dodge had fallen into a quagmire of quicksand; the more she struggled, the deeper she went into the evil... and her torment and guilt knew no bounds.

Tom Nelson had been right. She had gone. She had driven to the estate of Fred Hartman for the first time and met Tom. He had been half-drunk and smug, sure of himself. Like he had said, she had gone. She had to. Tom was clever... he arranged the party to coincide with Allan being out of town. Besides, he was right! She was in a state of near sexual frenzy for days before the party. On the day of the party, she did housework and shopping, but she could think of nothing else. By afternoon, she was drinking and so horny and excited that she could barely contain herself.

She drove slowly, carefully, so sexually excited she could barely see the road. She told herself she had to go... she was being blackmailed. And... the very thought of being forced to do something lewd against her will set off a flood-wall of lust in her. The more she drank, the more reckless she became... just once, once to give in to raw lust and depravity... two men... other things... !!

The more excited she became, the more controlled her behavior. She was calculating and carefully dressed as she left the house. She was cool and remotely polite as she was introduced to Fred Hartman. She looked at him and didn't know he was a man who would change her life. He was polite and lofty... tall and thin and bored looking. Nancy noticed that everyone treated her with great politeness. Rita was no where to be seen, and the party consisted of only a handful of middle-aged men who looked successful.

She was led to a guest room where her every wish was attended to. She had a private and luxurious bath and food and fine Scotch to drink. A man, a servant and chauffeur that Nancy was going to come to know as Herman, showed her a cigarette box carved out of teakwood. "Hashish, mam. It would help if you had some." Nancy didn't... that first time... but later she came to need and rely on it.

She had a television set that Herman turned on. "Closed circuit," he explained as he left the room.

Nancy gazed at the set and saw a film of a naked young girl writhing on the bed. Cynically, she smiled. They were going to show her smokers, porny films, to get her in the mood. With a fatalistic masochism that made her feel depraved and excited, she poured herself a drink and watched the lewd and obscene conduct on the television.

They gave her all the time in the world to get ready. She thought they would come for her and rip her clothes off and drag her out to be ravished and raped. They didn't. They gave her time to think... and drink. They gave her time to look at the teakwood box. She looked more closely at it: a naked couple were carved on the lid, writhing together, their mouths sucking on each other's genitals.

She looked away and drank. They gave her plenty of time to get acquainted with her surroundings. They gave her time to watch the closed circuit TV. She saw a close-up of a naked man sitting in a chair. His erection was enormous and obscene. A young girl... very young... was obediently kneeling between his thighs and holding the shaft of his hard cock with her fingers. Her tongue lashed out and wantonly curled around the swelling mushroom head. Her wet lips played slippery tricks, sliding and sucking the very tip of the lust-thickened penis. The girl's lewd teasing was obviously having its effect on the man... he grabbed her head brutally with both his hands and, at the same time, savagely thrust his hips upward and forward, sinking his thick shaft of hard flesh deep in the girl's mouth. Nancy watched the girl's face as she closed her eyes and her wet lips closed tightly around the shaft... and her cheeks hollowed as she sucked.

Nancy drained her glass and turned from the TV. She looked in a wall mirror, seeing her stunning good looks and her wildly voluptuous figure that even her dress couldn't hide. She grinned at her carnage, slightly drunk. It was real... it simply wasn't real that she was here, on an estate, about to do something lewd. What was it Tom had said? Scorpio. The word sent a deliciously depraved thrill through her. Hastily, she poured herself another drink before returning to the mirror.

She stood looking in the mirror, taking in her own figure, turning this way and that. It was an incredible figure, fully developed... soft in the right places and curved. She smiled at her image again and was proud of it. She drank and turned to the TV. The young girl was naked now sitting in the chair. The man was kneeling in front of her and had forced the young thing to put her legs up on the arms of the chair. Her knees were hooked over the arms of the chair and her full firm thighs were obscenely split wide open. Apparently it wasn't enough to satisfy the man who roughly spread the girl's eagerly trembling legs even wider apart, forcing her to shove her glistening pink cunt forward to the edge of the chair. The man grinned lewdly and slowly spread the wetly throbbing lips of the girl's pussy before lasciviously burying his face into the hair-lined opening.

Nancy groaned aloud and her free hand brushed over her own stomach and groin. Lust crept through her craven flesh and nerves like a slow warm syrup... if she kept watching the screen, she knew she was going to become insanely horny. She poured herself still another drink and tried not to think of what she was involved in. She ignored the TV and went to the bathroom to see what it was like. It shocked her: The walls were covered with excellent photographs of men and women naked, fondling one another. Scenes of graphic sex had her panting a little. She fled the bathroom and had to look at the TV screen again. The girl was still in the chair, but now her head was flailing back and forth with an abandoned passion as her hips churned and ground wildly upward against the man's tongue darting, licking, and stabbing deep into her wantonly writhing cunt. Nancy moaned... just once... a sound of hunger and despair.

They gave her plenty of time... time to watch the TV and look at the teakwood box and the photos and murals in the bathroom... time to drink. They gave her so much time she began to think they had forgotten about her.

By the time they did come to get her... she was more than ready... giddy with drink and half naked. Already, she was in a lewd mood as she sprawled in a chair, one leg swung up over an arm, her dress pulled up to expose the white crotch band of her panties. Her dress was open in the front and her brassiere unclasped, allowing a good view of her beautifully rounded mounds. Her long black hair was wild and gypsy-like. She grinned up at Herman and Ben who had to fetch her.

"Hi."

She was actually ready to fuck both of them right there, ready for an orgy right in the chair. Her loins were hungrily throbbing, achingly teasing her. She had been alone for two hours, thinking of the Scorpio sex rites and of her strip-tease in the Cicero bar and all those greedy masculine hands all over her. She had sat watching the films on closed circuit TV and wondered if she was going to be filmed thus furthering her blackmail... and depravity. She had wandered back into the bathroom and taken her time, looking at each of the photos and murals. She had sat and watched obscene sex on TV and had time to think. Plenty of time... and plenty of Scotch. By the time they came to get her, she was in the mood for an almost suicidal orgy... one wantonly abandoned fling in her life... one time.

By the time they came to get her she wasn't thinking at all clearly... and she didn't care to! She was feeling!

Herman and Ben smiled at her almost maliciously as they ordered her to her feet. They grinned at one another as she slowly swung her leg down and got up, eyeing them with a wicked smile.

Herman cleared his throat. "Take your clothes off."

They stood looking at her with insinuating smiles and politely waited for her to strip. Nancy felt a certain kind of lewdness in their attitude. It was exciting stripping naked so casually in front of two strange men. With a shiver of promised delights, she wondered what they were going to do to her. She stripped very quickly down to her brassiere and panties and stood looking at the men defiantly, her huge breasts, heavy and as well- rounded as musk-melons, proudly thrust out. She noted the effect on Herman and Ben and was pleased.

Slowly, taking her time and driving both of the men wild, she undid the clasp to her brassiere. Her softly lascivious breasts were closely confined by the material of the brassiere. They seemed to swell right before the men's hungry eyes. They spread out wantonly... almost brazenly as Nancy smirked, seeing how Herman clenched his fists and how Ben ground his teeth together. She discovered facets of her soul and feelings she never dreamed she possessed... she enjoyed teasing the animals. Letting the tip of her tongue wetly lick her lips, she thrust her hips and pelvis insolently forward. She stood with her hands on her flaring hips, naked save for flimsy bikini panties. Slowly, brazenly, jutting her hips even more obscenely forward, she rolled the material of her panties down. They were skin-tight on her voluptuous body and she peeled them slowly down, the red tip of her tongue wetly sticking out of her mouth, her big beautiful eyes merry and impudent.

Almost sadistically... sadism being the other side of the masochistic coin... she peeled and rolled the panties down until they resembled nothing more than an inadequate G-string. Intuitively, she knew what would arouse the men even more, and so she slowly and insolently turned around, allowing them a hungry view of her almost naked buttocks and the lascivious way her firmly rounded ass-cheeks rocked and undulated one against the other as she shifted her weight.

She turned and faced the men again brazenly taking her time, watching the bodyguard-butler Ben wipe the back of his hand over his cruel mouth... her eyes darting to take in Herman's hand and how he barely resisted the impulse to rip her panties off her voluptuous body that was so tauntingly displayed in front of him. Nancy smiled, "So near and yet so far."

"Hurry up!"

"Why?" She mocked them, her eyes innocently wide.

Menacingly, Herman stepped toward her and, with a little irritating laugh, Nancy pulled the panties down and let them fall silently and softly to the floor. Hands posed temptingly on her hips, she stepped back and let both hungry men take in her lasciviously naked form.

Herman broke the silence, turning to the door. "Come on, Mr. Hartman is waiting."

Nakedly brazen, Nancy strolled to me door that Herman held open for her with Ben tensely following. She walked down a long hall with her proud buttocks rocking back and forth. She felt amazingly alive... every nerve in her body was throbbing with a wild implacable excitement and lust. She enjoyed being obscenely naked in front of these men and driving them wild. Passing a mirror, she glanced and noted with satisfaction mat neither man could take his eyes from her seductively undulating body.

The hall led into a big room full of cigar smoke and men standing around talking. A silence fell over the room as the trio walked in, Nancy with her hands impudently and provocatively placed on her hips. With a slightly drunken, superior smile, she glanced around the room. Fred Hartman, tall and austere, was quietly watching her, that almost clinical look of detachment on his face. All of me other occupants were men... Rita was nowhere to be seen... Tom was leaning heavily against the wet bar in one corner, pouring himself still another drink. His face was beet- red and he was very drunk... perhaps not even aware that Nancy was there. All the other men were older... in their forties and fifties. One man with graying hair looked at Nancy with an evil smirk. "Well, well, this is a nice piece of dessert."

Nancy stuck her tongue out brazenly and sauntered away from the men like a showgirl, her naked hips switching, her voluptuous ass twitching temptingly. The men looked at her walk and then one another, laughing lewdly and with a barely contained excitement.

She was helped up on a small platform at one end of the room. The platform contained a big bed and nothing else. The platform was draped by black velvet, showing off her naked flesh to every advantage. The moment she stepped up on the platform, the lights began to dim and soon she was alone, standing in a cone of soft light.