Chapter 3

The next morning, a little after seven o'clock, Nadalee felt buoyantly happy and fresh as she bounced briskly along the springy forest path on her way to work at the Blackwell house. She was about fifteen minutes early and she was glad of it. The beautiful young redhead's spirits bubbled over at the majestic splendor all around her, her large green eyes brilliant with wonder as she tried to look everywhere at once and drink everything in simultaneously. It was one of those special mornings and she wished she could say hello to somebody or somehow embrace the air.

There was a cool exhilarating breeze breathing in mildly from somewhere out on the lake... cool yet pleasantly warm as though the wind were coming only from out where the diffused image of the sun was mirrored like an immense white beacon blazing in the stupendous green of the water. She could see long luminous white clouds trailing their own reflections across the glassy surface of the lake. To her, they seemed to be wisps of smoke drifting away from the raging bonfire of sunshine out in the middle. Then, suddenly, she saw a trout flash upward out of the water, a silver streak of iridescent grace that fell back with a splash and was marked by rippling circles of blue-green that widened outward, winking little lights where the sun sparked on their tiny crests. It was all so wondrous, so calm and familiar, she thought almost religiously; it was like an ideal world God had created somewhere else and then, for some unknown reason, had decided to place here in the midst of the harsher reality of the regular world. Oh, if only Newton were here with her now, she wished, fighting down the sudden desire to run ahead and search for him in the tool shack or the garage where he usually worked mornings.

Newton was the real reason why she was in such high spirits this morning. When she had risen this morning, she had expected him to show at least the lingering traces of his anger from last night but instead he had been almost cheerful at breakfast. He had not given any explanation for this wonderful difference in his behavior except to say that he had been doing what he mysteriously referred to as "some hard thinking that morning." Then, just before he left for work, he had surprised her by stopping at the doorway to kiss and hold her for a long blissful moment. She remembered now with a glow of radiant happiness just how astonished and thrilled she had been as she watched him disappear into the forest, so much so that her fears and doubts about their relationship had become meaningless to her in an instant and then the future had seemed to change in that instant from dismal blankness to a bright hope in her mind. Oh, anything, she would do anything! she resolved as she bounded along the same winding trail that he had taken earlier that morning, if only Newton would continue to show her such love and let her know that she was more important to him as a person than merely a female who cooked and cleaned his house, would someday probably bear him the son he wanted.

Two minutes later, Nadalee entered the Blackwell house through the kitchen door at the back and was confronted by Dolores Blackwell herself. The young maid stood silently for a moment, gazing at the thirty-five year-old woman who was leaning back against the long counter next to the stove where John, the chef, was busy preparing what seemed to be a particularly elaborate breakfast. Nadalee had been afraid of Mrs. Blackwell since taking the job and had never been able to pinpoint just why.

"Well, good morning, Nadalee," Dolores greeted. "Aren't you a bit early?"

"Yes, Mrs. Blackwell," Nadalee said, "but there were some rooms upstairs I didn't have time to clean yesterday... so I wanted to get an early start this morning."

"Don't worry about that right now, darling. I want you to work in the main living room and to spruce up the dining area this morning," the attractive older woman instructed. "Some of our special friends from San Francisco are driving up for a party George and I are giving the day after tomorrow, and of course we'd like everything to be just right for them."

"Oh, I'll work extra hard and polish the silver and everything," Nadalee assured with enthusiasm.

"I knew you'd understand, darling," Dolores smiled, nodding her head up and down as she spoke. "But make certain not to forget to straighten up our bedroom as usual this afternoon... Come up just after your lunch about the time you ordinarily do."

The young housewife opened her lips impetuously to ask what she should do after that and then swallowed the question as she remembered that Braun always relayed Mrs. Blackwell's orders to her in the afternoon. Not knowing what to do, Nadalee remained rooted to where she stood, waiting for the other woman to say something or dismiss her, whatever. But Dolores Blackwell said nothing and turned away to whisper something to the thin, rickety looking grey-haired chef beside her.

Nadalee took advantage of the opportunity to take her first long look at George Blackwell's wife. She was slightly surprised when she saw that Dolores was even more strikingly attractive than she had at first thought that first day at the airport. The woman was a honey-haired blonde with inviting blue eyes and a lush body of eye-pleasing proportions. Her mouth was small and her red lips seemed to pout in a way that suggested chronic boredom. Nadalee recalled the story that Mr. Blackwell had told on the drive up to Quail Lake from San Francisco, how some years ago he had gone to New York City to conclude a big business deal and had met Dolores one night at a stockbroker's dinner party. Recently divorced from her last husband, the blonde had been employed as a successful, high-priced fashion model in the big city. She and George had both been free to make the most of the strong attraction they had for each other. Then, after a few dates, they had decided that they were perfectly matched and had flown west for a brief wedding ceremony in Las Vegas, followed by three wild weeks of gambling and drinking to celebrate the fact that they had found each other.

Not long afterward, he had been lucky and fallen into a multimillion dollar real estate bonanza, had made enough money overnight for them to retire for the rest of their lives. They had indulged themselves in lavish comfort and idleness for a few years in San Francisco until they had chosen Quail Lake as a spot where they could build a miniature empire and, as Mr. Blackwell had put it a week ago, "relax without worrying whether or not the blinds ought to be closed."

"Nadalee, darling, is there something wrong?" Dolores asked as she peered across the kitchen at the girl still standing there just inside the door.

"No-no, nothing's wrong," the pretty redhead said with a look of embarrassment on her face. "I was just... just thinking about something."

"By the way," Dolores began, ignoring the girl's reply, "I've got to admit that that's a nice dress you're wearing but it's not exactly your uniform, is it?" The challenging glint of amusement in the blonde's lively eyes made Nadalee feel suddenly foolish and very ashamed of the red scoop-neck dress she had chosen that morning in place of the white uniform that had still been wet from the laundering she had given it the night before.

"Oh, no... I'm sorry," Nadalee apologized in a weak voice, "but my uniform needed washing and it didn't dry out in time to wear today. I hoped you wouldn't mind if I wore this instead... only until tomorrow."

"Even though I've got to admit that on you it's certainly sexy enough," the elegant blonde woman said in a coy whispering voice, her blue eyes dropping to carefully assess the generous expanse of rounded bare flesh swelling up above the low neckline of the red dress, "I guess we'll just have to wait to see if George approves or not."

A puzzled frown on her face, Nadalee watched Dolores suddenly straighten up and march breezily off toward the doorway that opened from the kitchen into the main ground floor corridor. The older woman turned at the last second to flash a quizzical grin back at her and then disappeared.

"By damn, one thing's for sure," John said a moment later in his squeaky voice, "Mrs. Blackwell's got something up her sleeve- something for you."

"What do you mean?" Nadalee worried.

"I mean, honey, that I've seen her act this way quite a few times," the skinny chef answered, "and something funny always happens when she does... But I just can't understand all the rest of it, though."

"All the rest of what?" the girl asked quickly, a feeling of irritating confusion coming over her.

"It's hard to explain," the thin-faced chef of nearly sixty said with a shrug. "Do you know that she came down here to tell me to take the afternoon off... She told me to take one of their new boats and go fishing out there on the lake."

"What's so strange about that?" Nadalee laughed.

"Nothing much, I guess," he admitted, "except that she knows damned well I don't even like to fish. And besides, I'm scared to death of deep water anyway."

Nadalee stood in the center of the huge master bedroom upstairs as she looked around the interior one last time before she left. Satisfied that she had missed nothing, she bent down to gather up the assortment of cleaning materials heaped in a pile at her feet. She froze with both hands halfway to the floor when she heard the unexpected sound coming through the partially open door from the adjoining bedroom to her right.

It was a husky male groan.

Good heavens, who could be in there at this time of day? she wondered. What was going on? Nadalee straightened up bravely and walked slowly toward the door. When she was a mere six or seven steps from her destination, she heard an even louder groan, a woman's this time!

My God, someone is hurt in there, the redhead thought, her first reaction naturally being to rush forward and throw open the door as fast as she possibly could. As she reached forward to grasp the handle on the door, the sound of a low menacing animal growl reached her ears and caused her to freeze again. She stood there for an endless moment, wondering what she could do as she listened for more sounds with every ounce of her concentration, her eyes glued to the floor. Gradually, she was able to make out other noises beyond the door even though her own heart was thumping so loudly that it was difficult at first. She could hear heavy rushed breathing punctuated by occasional grunts and moans of what almost sounded like passion. But that could not be, she reasoned, for everyone was supposed to be downstairs-and anyway, only the Blackwells would be together that way here in the house today. It seemed highly unlikely that her wealthy employers would dare do such a thing during the broad daylight, especially when Dolores Blackwell knew that their servant would be working in the next room at that time of the afternoon. And even if they had been so bold, surely they would have at least closed the door beforehand.

Her whole body tensed automatically as a nearby male groan suddenly erupted to join the other human sounds inside the room. This one came from only a few feet away from where she stood, petrified, her lovely white teeth chattering slightly from the fright and incapacitating confusion she felt. Her heart stopped and she hardly dared to breathe as the closest male groan resounded in her ears again. Finally, curiosity got the best of her and she slowly lifted her eyes from the floor to see if she could catch a glimpse of the source of the sound.

As her eyes adjusted to the brighter light that streamed into her face from the next room, she was able to make out a tall male form standing beyond the partly open door to her right. She blinked several times to clear her vision and sharpen into focus the hulking form which stood in towering profile only slightly over a yard from her own position.

The color in Nadalee's face ebbed suddenly as she sucked in her breath in horror!

She saw that it was Braun, the bald half-wit of thirty. He was standing there in front of her completely naked and holding his enormous rigid penis tightly with both hands. The long hard shaft of male flesh looked almost as thick as a young tree trunk and glistened all along its jutting length. It was incredible! It made Newton's penis seem small by comparison-though she knew that her young husband was extremely well-endowed since she had seen photographs of other naked men with erections in the illustrated marriage manual that she had bought back in Oklahoma without telling Newton. She had studied the text and pictures carefully again just before they had left to come here because she had begun to worry anxiously about the possibility that their sex life was a failure due to some short-coming on her part. Now, despite her crippling shock, she was able to remember the manual's statement that "... the average male sex organ ranges from five to seven inches when in a state of erection." Good Lord, she gasped, Braun was certainly not average! His huge protruding member was at least eight inches long, maybe more, and even his large hands could barely encircle its pulsing heavily-veined girth.

She saw that the bald moron's eyes were glazed as he stroked the long hard penis up and down in lewd rhythmic time to the now wet sucking noises she could hear coming from the bed on the other side of the room. Nadalee could not tell who was making the sounds as she was not standing far enough to one side of the open doorway to have a view of the wall against which the bed was placed. Braun was so close to her that she was afraid to even breathe for fear he might hear her. She stood there shaking from head to foot, her feet cemented to the carpeted floor, watching in horrified fascination as the servant's fingers skinned the thick foreskin of his uncircumcised penis rapidly up and down the full length of it, the huge bulbous head bursting evilly into view, like a giant monster crawling from a secret lair, with each hard downstroke that he made with his hands. She was close enough so that she could see that it was wet on the top from the white, sticky lubricating fluid beginning to ooze forth from it.

Braun's breath sounded thick and heavy now and she could see thin white flecks of spittle joining each other to grow heavy and run down from his lips as he stared like a man in a trance at the bed just out of her view. His penis frightened her so much it was almost as though she were seeing one for the first time. It was monstrous and she could not even imagine having something that big inside her... My Lord, such a massive thing would ruin her for life if she ever tried to take it between her legs!

Then, in her dazed state, the lovely girl thought she saw an almost imperceptible flick of the shiny-headed man's beady eyes toward the spot where she stood. What if he should turn a little and discover her watching him? How on earth could she possibly explain the fact that she had been caught spying on the idiot as he obscenely masturbated himself? No one would ever believe her when she tried to tell how she had been a victim of circumstances and had seen Braun only by accident.

Nadalee heaved a soundless sigh of relief when she saw him turn slightly away to gain a better view of whatever was happening over on the bed. As the tempo of the noises inside increased, she had to admit that her curiosity to know what was going on had been piqued to an almost maddeningly intense desire to chance a look in for herself. At last it became too much for her and she moved cautiously backward out of Braun's range of vision to lean against the wall a few inches from the stationary frame of the doorway. Then, leaning forward, the girl placed her fingertips against the door itself and gently eased it forward until the bed across the room came into view by degrees. Her whole body was shaking violently and the fear she felt made it almost impossible to draw air into her lungs without feeling nauseous. When she saw the two forms on the bed, it took her brain an extra moment to register what her eyes had already communicated to it an instant before.

A chilling shiver ran crazily up the length of her spine and lodged perilously in her throat, almost causing her to retch then and there. Right before her very eyes, clearly illuminated by the bright daylight pouring in through the open shutters in the other bedroom, she saw George and Dolores Blackwell coupled lewdly on the bed, their naked bodies thrashing wildly as their loins smacked wetly and wantonly together. Nadalee felt the blood draining from her head and she had to fight for a moment to remain on her feet as waves of blackness crossed over her consciousness from the sudden shock of catching the older man and woman in the act of love. It was what she had watched Braun gazing at so intently before she had stepped backward to her present vantage- point.