Chapter 8

At the bewitching hour of midnight the casino was invariably at full swing. Tonight being Saturday, it was even better, Silk Weaver thought, looking about him at the multitudes of elite who had come to be swindled... expected to be swindled. The gaming tables were jammed, and the din of the slot machines in long rows lining the walls, coupled with the human roar and the even louder pitched voices of the stickmen chanting their litany in response to the fascinating dance of the red celluloid cubes, all blended in a wild conglomeration of fantastic action.

He moved among them, smiling tightly to him self. Tonight was his night, as the luscious Lily Vance was going to find out. He'd already given his orders to Pete, the bartender who poured drinks for the girls. Lily was getting constant doses of Quebrachine in her Cokes, a tasteless version of the aphrodisiac that Max liked to use occasionally.

Wafts of music coming from the stage behind the bar in the open adjacent lounge across the room drifted his way, interspersed with the clicking roulette wheel and the croupier's voice announcing: "Eighteen on the red," his distant tone obliterated by the nearest stickman droning:

"Six! Six a number. Let's have odds the hard way. Get'em down... come and field bets. Here we go. Shooter coming out. Four! Four... six the number. You're looking for a six, sir. Six'll do it. Let'em roll... seven! Seven the loser! Next shooter. All bets down. The dice are coming out..."

Silk continued to smile to himself. The lounge was packed and the voluptuous, red-headed, naked doll that was perspiring beneath the spots in a frenzy of measured writhing, undulating movements to the loud, rocking, recording music, had just picked up her prop from the nearby little table... an eight-inch facsimile of a hardened prick made of flesh-like plastic. She was Rose O'Fara, a real colleen, one hell of a fuck, and before she was finished her male audience would be doing everything but actually laying their broads on top of the tables.

Her jutting, full breasts swayed heavily from side to side as she moved with the powerful rhythm of the music. She held the dildo in one hand while the other slowly, languorously, moved lovingly over her hot flesh until it reached one breast and held it out, nipple jutting toward the near-mesmerized audience. Then, slowly she turned, rotating on her toes, allowing herself to be seen in profile... a lovely S-shape, Silk thought momentarily, with the beauty of her breast lifting before her and the voluptuousness of her buttocks hollowing out behind... then, her back was to them, the whole of her luscious naked ass, wobbling and tensing at the audience, a full, bursting smoothness of flesh that moved and wiggled as if it searched for something, some beautiful invasion that could make it squirm in a complete, cooperative delight.

Silk watched her as she gradually bent her slim back forward, leaning away from audience that was gaping at her almost breathlessly, until the breadth of her lush buttocks was jutting toward them and rotating gently as if in obscene invitation. Her strong, shapely thighs were spread slightly and as she leaned down her copperish, hair-lined vaginal lips were presented head-on to the spectators, the thin, pink, dividing slit yet unopened to them. She lay the dildo on the floor in front of her, then reached back with her white, slender arms and gently pulled apart her buttocks with her fingers, disclosing in an even more lewd gesture her tiny pink wrinkled anus between, as if she were welcoming a sodomizing attack.

Around her little, revealed rectum, a few silken, almost golden hairs fringed to taunt the onlookers even more-so while her bottom rotated as if on its own axis in time to the stimulating music. Then she moved her hands away from her anus and back over her satin-smooth buttocks down her thighs to the floor where she slowly retrieved the stimulated prick from where it lay.

Silk ran his tongue over dry lips, his cock jerking inside his shorts as he watched Rose O'Fara straighten and gradually face the audience again. It was almost as if there was an atmosphere of slight relief in the room, but he knew that wouldn't last long. Her specialty was coming next. She was good, but she couldn't set the crowd off like Lily with her naked cunt and her double-dildo routine... Then Rose was opening her legs wide, spreading her feet firmly on the floor and lowering herself backward in a lithe, double-jointed posture, until her hands reached the floor behind her head, the long plastic prick clasped firmly in one, and once more her vaginal lips were presented head-on to the spectators. With a gymnastic dexterity, she moved her head forward between her legs until she was practically looking the crowd in the face, concentrated... and finally, her cunt lips opened and her vagina was wide and moistly smiling at an audience of bulging, transfixed eyes. It was then that she performed the impossible... slowly raising her right hand containing the thick, long phallus; she eased the smooth round head between the damp, pink open lips of her cunt, and while the crowd stared with feverish, salacious eyes, she slowly, tantalizingly, pressed the heavy white shaft into the small, elasticized mouth of her vagina, the coral-hued ring expanding across the lounge, the massive cudgel continued to disappear inside her swallowing moist pink hole almost to its entirety.

Silk felt his own organ swollen to a near-aching hardness as he watched Rose O'Fara's licentious performance before the hot, flushed faces of her half drunk, lust-aroused audience that seemed to be shifting nervously with overwhelming itches and urges. Shit, he'd had about all he could take, too; his entire pelvic area had begun to throb in his mounting need. But Lily had one more show to do before Lou Freed was to bring her up to his small apartment, next to Max's on the top floor. Hell, he wasn't sure if he was going to be able to wait that long.

He swung around and weaved his way across the casino toward the elevator, trying to estimate the night's take and get his mind off his throbbing prick. He'd developed the habit of mentally computing Max's ill-gotten flow of income, little ideas of his own formulating more strongly in his conniving brain with every passing day. He hardly thought of it as greed... his wanting what the big-man had. It was natural enough, he'd long ago decided; and wasn't that the way Max had gotten up there... by taking from someone else? That was the law of this godamned jungle, wasn't it?

Silk Weaver didn't intend to be on the stooge-end of the stick too much longer, he was thinking as he stepped into the elevator and pressed the top button, thankfully leaving the din of the casino behind him. He had his plans... Max Bovino had built the perfect little empire for him. Max had Parksburg right in the palm of his hand, in fact, the whole damned county, all the way to the state capital. How else could he get away with running a crooked gambling casino on a wide-open basis, say nothing of the godamned filthy sex-shows he put on before the public eye without bringing an enraged society of do-gooders down on his head? It was that godamned filing cabinet of information he kept locked up in his study, that was how; volumes of compiled, scandalous data on every important figure in the city and county... closet-skeletons the blind-man had patiently dug out while he planned his siege of the city, then used along with a little financial juice to set himself up as the invulnerable kingpin... and all of that was going to belong to him, Silk Weaver... when the right time came.

Inside his own neat little quarters, Silk made himself a drink. He couldn't keep his mind off Lily. He owed that bitch and he intended to pay her in full that very night. Snake, was he... well, that was just going to make it all the easier for him, once he got at that luscious, soft white body of hers. He walked nervously around the room, his cock pulsating with lust-incited anticipation, so much so, that he unzipped his fly and let it burst out of his pants like a long, heavy lance, its purple head glistening as he reached down and stroked the heavy foreskin back and forth over the rubbery knob.

Shit, he couldn't wait any longer! He went to the house-phone and called down to Lou Freed.

"Bring Lily up here," he ordered, unloosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.

"She ain't come on with her last performance yet, Silk," the other replied.

"To hell with her performance. She's coming up here to put on her last show," Silk said, his throat tight with desire. "Tell Rose to take over for her, and don't waste any time. I want that little cunt up her now!"

"Okay, Silk... whatever you say," Lou Freed replied and hung up, while the pitted, hawk-faced man stripped the clothes from his thin body as he walked to his bedroom and slipped on a cheaper version of Max Bovino's dressing gown.

Lily couldn't imagine what had come over her. She sat alone in the dressing-room only her sheer peignoir around her, endeavoring to fathom the source of the tiny sensations tingling through her body... erotic little titillating prickles that were filling her belly and loins with an indistinct excitement. She hadn't had a thing to drink all evening, except the Cokes, of course, but at the moment she found herself wishing that she was going-on instead of Charmine, so that she could enjoy the release her dildos would bring her... but she had at least another thirty-minutes; Rose was just finishing up.

God, what was happening to her, anyway? If-if only Max would send for her. Her brain swam giddily and that, neither, could she understand. It was almost as if she'd shot a light dose of smack, she was thinking vaguely, yet knowing that it couldn't be so. She'd never touch the stuff again, nor any other drug...

Lily barely heard the knocking, but was not surprised when the door opened and Lou Freed stuck his head inside.

"You're wanted upstairs, Baby," he said. "Right now, come on."

"B-But I've got another show."

"Forget it. Upstairs, and on the double."

Max wanted her, Lily thought delightedly. God, her little wish had come true. She didn't try to contain her smile as she got to her feet and unhesitantly followed the heavy-set, lumpy faced, ex- pug along the narrow corridor to the staff elevator.

As they ascended silently, she couldn't help but feel Lou Freed's eyes raking her thinly covered nakedness with desire-filled eyes and the temptation to provoke him sensuously with maybe just a touch of her hand on his prick, or... but they were there then, and the door automatically folded open.

"This way," Lou said, taking her arm and leading her in the opposite direction from Max's entrance.

Something wasn't right, Lily reasoned in her glazed mind and she hesitated, reluctant to accompany him. She looked up into his red-rimmed eyes, shaking her head negatively. "Wh-Where are you taking me...

"Come on, come on?" he snapped, yanking her roughly, his big hand gripping her slender wrist firmly as he dragged her to Silk Weaver's door.

Too late, Lily realized what was happening. There was no time to struggle, even to scream; quickly he opened the door and shoved her inside, following close behind. She started to scream out then, even knowing the futileness of it. This whole floor was sound- proof, every room a sound-sealed chamber of its own; no one could hear her if she shrieked her lungs out... Then... then, she saw Silk Weaver, in his dressing gown, enter the room from his bedroom doorway, a drink in his hand, and the tented, pole-like protrusion below his belt line indicating his already erect penis.

The horror of her situation struck her immediately. At the very least, he was going to rape her... and whatever else, she could only surmise in growing terror.

"M- Max will kill you for this!" she rasped, struggling to free her wrist from Lou Freed's powerful hand.

Silk's thin face twisted into a fiendishly evil mask of raw salacious lust. "Sorry, cunt... but this time you're wrong," he hissed. "Max gave you to me for my pleasure... and that's just what I intend to have with you... pleasure... only my kind of pleasure, eh?"

Lily could bare]y breathe; she was that frightened. It was as if all the air in her lungs had suddenly lumped into her throat. She gasped, then managed: "Y-You... you lie! Max loves me! I know he..."

Silk sniggered and drained his glass, setting it on a small casual-table where several slender, hand-carved ebony figures were displayed. Thoughtfully, he picked up one, a bizarre replica of a nude young African native girl, obviously in advanced pregnancy; he studied it. It was perhaps a foot long and some two- inches in diameter at its widest point... the girl's belly. Then, he looked up at the beautiful blonde, fear-stricken girl. He said: "Max wouldn't piss on you now, Baby. He's got his new Su Lyn. You... you belong to me... as you're damn sure going to find out in a very few minutes." Then, to Lou Freed, he added: "Take her in the bedroom and tie her face down spread eagle."

Lily screamed then, again and again, neither man trying to stop her, and as she saw Silk turning away to make himself another drink, the powerful Lou Freed dragged her into the bed room, stripped her peignoir away with two vicious ripping motions and threw her face down onto the bed, climbing on top of her back to pin her securely while he tied both of her hands to the bedposts, and then her feet.

Lying as she was with her face pressed into the silken coverlet, her legs apart, feeling more naked and shamed than she had ever felt, even before a lust-filled audience, Lily didn't try to stop the tears rolling down her face. Her heart was pounding with a mixture of feelings. Her armpits and loins were hot and moist... and then, she felt Lou Freed's big hand smoothing over her buttocks and down through the crevice toward the hairless, open flesh of her shaved vagina.

"That's enough!" Silk barked. "Get out!"

The big man grunted, muttered something under his breath and left. Silk followed him to the door, then closed and locked it. He finished his drink, picked up the ebony statue once more and re- entered the bedroom. He walked to the bed where the voluptuous blonde lay securely trussed in her obscene position, completely at his mercy, then, he took off his robe and looked at himself in the mirror, his scrawny, wiry frame with his long, heavy-veined, rigid shaft. He massaged it gently, and looked back toward the bed. Lily was staring at him and now there was unquestionable fear on her lovely face.

He grinned down at her sadistically. "You called me a snake, Lily... remember?" he said with hardly a movement of his lips.

She didn't speak and suddenly he leaped on top of her, straddling her thighs as he began to slap her lush, full white buttocks again and again, then her ribs and back, again and again and again, bringing out hot, red marks on her soft, satiny flesh. He could hear her crying into the coverlet and he hunched down, his hands wedging beneath her on either side to clutch at her breasts... to squeeze and twist them cruelly, finally pinching the elongated hard nipples with demented viciousness and she wailed loudly from the pain.

"Oh God, no... please no!" she begged, but her words only served to incite him more.

He jumped off her and grabbed up the ebony statue from the bedside stand where he'd left it, then threw himself back onto her. He planted himself between her full white thighs, resting on his knees, the delicious slit of her pink, naked cunt open to him, and he stretched her soft buttocks apart so that he could see her rosy anus. Then, all of a sudden, he began to wield the long sleek statue down her buttocks with fury, letting it sink in, raising thick ugly welts across the soft white flesh of her ass.