Chapter 8

Ralph Taylor stood leering down at the hunched, naked, horror- stricken form of his star salesman's lovely young wife. His huge, thickly veined prick jutted towards her in its erection like an accusing finger. Behind him, still beating his own throbbing penis with one hand, his face a flushed, sweating red, stood the thinly built postal clerk, his leer almost as salacious as the Auto Circus manager's.

Cindy finally realized the exact dimensions of her position, and scrambled away from the black-haired girl's opened thighs, leaning back against the far end of the couch and putting her fisted hand up to her mouth. She bit her knuckles until they bled, her filmed eyes bulging wide.

Ralph laughed softly, easily, off-handedly, as if he were in his office at Auto Circus instead of in the midst of all this carnal abuse. "I guess you're surprised to see me here, aren't you, Cindy?" he asked her, his eyes gleaming. "Damn right you are. Well, I arranged this whole affair, as a matter of fact. I've been planning it ever since Norma told me about you and Samuels here, planning it so I could get you right where you are now and where you will be before long. What do you think of that, Cindy? How does the idea appeal to you?"

"W-Why?" Cindy managed to moan around the clenched fist. "Oh, G-God, why... ?

"Why do you think, baby? To get that hot little body of yours just the way I want it. You've been swinging it in front of me and every other man around ever since Howie married you, teasing us, telling us in effect that we can look but we can't touch. Well, I took it as long as I could and then I knew I had to have you, and on my terms. These are my terms, Cindy, right here and now. The other two times--up at my cabin, and the other night in the car--were just appetizers, previews of the real thing. Now you're going to fulfill all the promises of that body of yours, everything I've dreamed about and wanted; I'm going to fuck you and I'm going to do it good and proper. This is going to be a night neither one of us is ever going to forget, Cindy baby..."

The words droned on and on, but it was as if a switch had suddenly been pulled somewhere in the tortured young housewife's swirling brain, completely blotting out the rest of Ralph Taylor's words. The complete and utter shock of turning up from the moist, hot womanhood of Sally Reagan, her face sheened with the black-haired girl's excited cuntal secretions, and seeing the nude form of her husband's hated boss had pushed Cindy dangerously close to the fine line between sanity and insanity. Hearing his lewd words, his revelation that he had planned this entire evening, that he was mixed up with, was as bad, as evil as Steve Samuels, had almost sent her over the edge; if it had not been for the liquor and the marijuana and even the passion which still ebbed through her body, she would surely have gone insane in that moment as she crouched there by the couch, staring up at the two naked men with their huge erect penises. This was the final degradation for Cindy Jamison, the ultimate humiliation in a long string of recent inequities. Nothing which happened after this, nothing which she could learn--no other revelation could affect her in the slightest way...

And yet, words spun and tugged at her brain cells, trying to form rational sentences, but she was unable to grasp them through the haze which filled her conscious mind. Something Ralph had said... ? What was it... what... And then she knew.

"The other two times--up at my cabin, and the other night in the car..."

Up at Ralph Taylor's cabin!

But nothing had happened between her and Ralph there, nothing at all, she had only been with Howie...

"W-What did you mean?" she cried suddenly. "What did you mean?"

Taylor stopped talking, his hands on his hips. "About what, baby?"

"About... about your cabin. You... you said you and I, up at your cabin... what did you mean!"

His laugh was low and ugly. "That's right, you don't know about that, do you? Well, let me tell you then, Cindy. You see, Howie and I planned that whole business... showing you the pictures, getting you excited... Norma talked to you on my orders, putting you in the right frame of mind for your first try at sucking cock... the room was dark after you and Howie had finished fucking that first time and so we just traded places... remember when he got up and went to the bathroom, and then came back? That wasn't him, Cindy, that was me... he went down and Norma sucked him off... it was my cock you sucked that night, baby... my cock was the first one to slide in and out of that sweet, soft little mouth of yours, my cum the first to pour down that graceful virgin throat of yours, mine, Cindy, Ralph Taylor's cock and Ralph Taylor's cum, not Howie's, not your husband's..."

Each of his words were like lashing cuts of a whip to Cindy Jamison. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. She flung her hands up to her ears, pressing them hard there and rocking back and forth, back and forth. Miraculously, she did not take that final, fatal plunge across the line into madness, though she came within a hair's breadth of it. Tears welled out of her eyes, rolled down over her ashen cheeks, down over her high, quivering, ruby-capped breasts as she rocked there on the floor under the salacious gazes of the two unfeeling, uncaring men who stood over her.

There had been one more revelation, after all, and it had been the big one. Howie, her beloved Howie, the man she trusted and believed in above all others, had betrayed her, had plotted with Ralph Taylor to swap her for Norma. He had been unfaithful to her, having sex with Ralph's wife and at the same time abandoning her to the manager. He had taken her great gift, her acquiescence to oral love which she had made for him and only him, and flung it back in her face; he had allowed her unknown in her alcoholic state to lavish her attentions on the lust-incited penis of Ralph Taylor instead of on his own.

And what of Norma, the woman who had professed to be a friend and confidante? She, too, had been in on the plot from the beginning. She hadn't told Ralph about Samuels merely as a way of seeking further solace for Cindy; no, she had done it so that Ralph could somehow locate the evil postal clerk and join forces with him for more and greater depravity. Her words to Cindy about the young blonde wife's sexual enjoyment of the perversions at the hands of Steve Samuels, her words about forgetting what had happened and not telling Howie or anyone else, had not been in Cindy's best interests at all--but in Ralph's and hers.

Dear God above, her whole world had collapsed completely and irrevocably about her! The people she loved and trusted had sold her out... there was no one left to whom she could turn, no one who cared, no one who was unselfish. She was alone, completely alone, her helpless body a pawn, a toy, a thing to be used at will...

And suddenly, then, the tears stopped and the horror and fear and shock left her face to be replaced by a wooden expression showing nothing. Cindy Jamison stopped thinking altogether, and the liquor and the marijuana once more claimed full possession of her mind; it was as if her brain, realizing the danger it was in, the danger of snapping like a small twig under the tremendous pressure of all that Cindy had discovered and been subjected to on this day, had simply shut itself off so as to prevent the blowing of the circuits--the way computers are programmed to do. She was a lump of clay now, to be handled and molded at will.

And yet, the stirrings of passion still flowed through her loins...

"Listen, how much longer are we going to fuck around here?" Samuels's husking voice suddenly filled the room. "Young Mrs. Jamison looks like she's gonna pass out or something. Let's get on with it, for Christ's sake."

Ralph Taylor looked at the suddenly blank-eyed wife of Howard Jamison, then shifted his gaze to where Sally Reagan was still sprawled on the sofa, legs splayed, eyes squeezed tightly shut, fingernails digging blood from her thighs as she waited in her own private hell. "All right," he said finally. "Get that damned dog of yours in here. The camera's all ready to go."

Quickly, eagerly, Steve Samuels whistled high and shrill. A moment later, the huge furry form of the postal clerk's great dog, Ringo, bounded into the room, tail wagging. The animal went directly to the couch, sniffing the wide-splayed womanhood of Sally Reagan familiarly. The young black-haired wife gasped, seeming to snap out of her semi-catatonic state, and she turned her hands, palms outward, to the dog, as if to ward off some vicious attack. "No!" she moaned. "Oh, God, no, no, not again! I can't stand that dog again, please, ohhh please... !"

"Shut up, Mrs. Reagan," commanded Samuels. "You'll do what we tell you, or else. Now get down on the rug on your knees like the little bitch you are. Get down on all fours. Hurry it up!"

The black-haired girl obeyed, body trembling. Ralph Taylor instructed, "The same goes for you, Cindy. On all fours, facing Sally. Leave a little room between you."

Mesmerically, the hopeless blonde wife obeyed her husband's lascivious boss. She knelt facing Sally Reagan, both women beyond any help, beyond caring, not looking at one another now. Watching them, Ralph began to tremble with growing excitement. It coursed through his thick body, making his erect penis throb palpitatingly with anticipation. He looked sideways at Samuels. "Take some pictures while I start things off. You know how to work a Polaroid, don't you?"

"Sure, but why can't I get down there, too?" whined Samuels. "The camera has a timer..."

"Never mind the timer yet. Just take some pictures, a half dozen of them. And they'd better be good."

With that, he stepped forward and went to his knees before the crouched figure of Cindy Jamison. He held his hardened cock in his right hand, lifting it up close to her face, moving his knees forward so that the tip of the immense cudgel almost touched the moist red lips of the subjugated young wife. "Open your eyes, Cindy," he commanded. "Look at my cock, look at it, look at what you're going to take in your mouth for the second time!"

Her eyes fluttered open, and she saw through her fogged retinas the great girth of Ralph Taylor's weapon, saw every ridge and pore of it as he moved it back and forth in front of her head like a swaying cobra's hood. Her tongue came out involuntarily to moisten her lips as she stared at the unseeing eye dripping fluid in the huge hardened head.

"Put your hand on my cock now, Cindy," he told her in a panting voice, his legs widespread before her face, and she obeyed mechanically, wrapping her hand around his masculinity. A shiver passed through her at the touch, unwanted but there nonetheless, and Cindy began to work her hand roughly up and down, watching the foreskin pucker over the engorged head, then wrap itself over the shaft. With increasing rhythm, she stroked Ralph Taylor's cock, staring at it, warmth beginning to seep through her loins again.

The automobile executive could take no more of the excruciating pleasure of her moving fingers. "Put it in your mouth now, baby! Put my cock in your mouth. Suck me, Cindy, oh, Jesus, suck my cock!"

With a groan of sheer animal lust, Taylor moved forward, flexing his hips, pressing his hard rubbery masculinity against her soft, moist lips, feeling the heavy bloated head resting against them. Cindy tasted the familiar bittersweet flavor, and her mouth parted automatically to accept the offering of lust, guiding it inside her warm wet cavern with her still-stroking hand.

She began to suck him then, suck him as she had that first night at the mountain cabin, when she had thought he was her husband, Howard. It didn't matter now--her subjugation, her enslavement--nothing mattered now, nothing at all. Slowly, agonizingly, she ran her tongue wetly around and around the smooth slippery head, easing the tip of her hot probe into the open slit of the glans. Her head pumped abandonedly to and fro, slavishly licking every inch of the thick shaft, sucking harder and harder, her tongue twirling faster and faster, and Taylor's buttocks began to flex forward, adding his own movement to her bobbing head so that mouth and cock were fucking together, working together, like a well-tuned machine. Cindy could feel the seminally flowing shaft batter back against her larynx, but she was unable to halt the intense ramming pressure there, her lips ovaling maddeningly as she attempted to suck the hot white load of sperm from her husband's boss's testicles like an electric milking machine...

Focusing through the Polaroid, Steve Samuels snapped off another picture. Goddamn look at the way she's blowing him! he thought wild with passion and wanting desperately to join in this debauching of the young wives himself. She's giving it everything she's got! Oh, Christ, what a night this is going to be! But Mrs. Reagan, the bitch, isn't doing anything, just kneeling there like a sleeping pup... well, I know something she can do, something that'll make a great shot...

"Mrs. Reagan!" he called out, and her head jerked up, swiveling toward him. Her face was only inches from Ralph Taylor's heaving buttocks as he drove his cock deep and hard into the soft fleshy folds of Cindy Jamison's mouth. "Mrs. Reagan, lean forward and kiss his ass! You heard me, do it! Kiss his ass, Mrs. Reagan! Lick his asshole with your tongue!"

There was no protest, for Sally Reagan was as empty of feeling now as was Cindy Jamison; even this further inequity, this further depravity, failed to faze her. She craned her head forward, her moist lips parted, and began to plant hot fevered kisses on the jerking, hirsute flesh of Ralph Taylor's buttocks. Then her tongue was extending, moving over the fleshy surface, into the pronounced crevice between the heavy globes, down lower, lower, until it found what it sought: the tiny puckered ring of his anal opening. Round and round she licked the nether entrance, flicking over the rubbery flesh, darting inside wetly, licking up and down, up and down, with moist hot fervor...

Ralph felt the impossibly exciting contact of tongue and lips at his rectum, and sensations of acute desire caused him to heave and buck harder and harder into the ovaling lips, the now perspiring face, of his star salesman's wife. Her hot, wet tongue seemed wrapped around the thick underside of his cock, from the coronal ridges, sticky and protruding from its foreskin almost to the wire-haired base. It was like fucking into the softest velvet, like having your prick immersed in warm, soft, flowing honey...

Click! Click! Click! Steve Samuels took pictures feverishly, taking the Polaroid from the tripod now so that he could get better angles. Sweat poured off him like rainwater. Half-a-dozen, the big bastard named Ralph had said. All right, and maybe a couple more, too! Ones with him, using the timer... ones with Ringo...

Ringo! He had all but forgotten his huge German Shepherd in the excitement of the lust-provoking sight of Mrs. Jamison wildly sucking Ralph's prick while Mrs. Reagan slavered between his dancing, heaving buttocks. Ringo had to have his turn, Ringo had to join in... Ringo had to sample little Mrs. Cindy Jamison! Yes, that was it! The dog had never had her before, had never shoved its hot animal cock far up into that young bitch's twitching pussy... but now Ringo was going to have that opportunity!

Still clutching the Polaroid, Samuels rushed forward to where the well-trained German Shepherd sat on its haunches by the couch, long red tongue lolling out of the side of its mouth, watching the carnal activities with eyes that, on a human, would have been feverishly excited. The venereous government employee grasped the dog's collar, pulled it around to where the smooth rounded cheeks of Mrs. Cindy Jamison's buttocks beat rhythmically at the air as she sucked voraciously, mindlessly, the cock of her hung husband's boss.

"Get her, Ringo! Get her, boy!" he excitedly spat the lewd command. "Lick her cunt! Fuck her, fuck, fuck, fuck! Go, Ringo, fuck her with your big dog cock!"

Panting, the great animal moved forward, between the blond-haired young wife's widespread legs. It lowered its head to the helpless Cindy's soft, hair-covered crotch and began to sniff it. Its tail wagged and trembled as though it had found a bitch in heat. Cindy moaned in sudden terror and understanding as the cold nose made contact with her tiny, puckered anus, as the long tongue snaked out and licked wetly up and down the crevice around it, the tip burrowing slightly into the outer fleshy anal ring.

Her eyes jerked open again, and she tried to pull Ralph Taylor's penis from her mouth, tried to twist around so that she could confirm her fears, but the manager's hands were wrapped in her soft blond hair, holding her rigid where she was. She tried to squirm her buttocks away from the hot breath, the hot animal contact, but it was useless; a greedy lapping moved up and down the narrow pink slit between her thighs, tongue running wetly the full length of it, from the tight-closed little pucker, up over the fluted, pink edges of her cunt and over the tiny sensation bud buried in her pubic mound, spreading through the soft, hair-covered lips like a knife through soft butter.

Noo! her mind cried with brief rationality. No it's that dog, I can feel its cold nose, its huge head, its hot tongue... oh, God, oh, God, no, no, not that, not that animal inside me, noooo!