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From: TheEditor <grobert@idt.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} *NEW* Honeymoon Hotel
Date: Mon, 22 Jan 2001 18:10:02 -0500
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<1st attachment, "Honeymoon Hotel" begin>

WARNING:
     This story is fiction, and should be treated as such.
     The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and 
contains descriptions of explicit sex.  If you are not an adult, or 
reading sex stories upset you, do not read any further.
     I am NOT the author.  I don't have the talent to write these 
stories.  We can only be ... "TheEditor" and Associates.





                            Honeymoon Hotel


                          By Michael Jaeggers



                                Prologue

     Fog moved sinuously -- billowing, as it hugged the surface of the 
lake -- and from a distance the dark castle looked as if it were 
floating atop a cloud.  No light showed within those crenellated stone 
walls; it was as if the structure were some ghostly apparition -- a 
mirage of the past.
     A fish jumped; the splash of its return to the water was muffled by 
the fog.  Above the swirling vapours, one large, black night bird 
flapped its way across a starless sky.  Then, as if giving lie to its 
ghostly appearance, somewhere within the confines of the castle a clock 
struck midnight.
     A flashlight flickered briefly in one window on the third floor.  
It moved on to the next window and then, at the corner of the castle, 
the lights came on in a large room.
     "I say, Morgan, isn't it a bit chancey; I mean, lights and all 
that?" The question came from the older of two men as he gazed somewhat 
apprehensively down at a deeply sleeping girl.
     "You should know me better than that, Lord Medwell.  She won't 
awaken until I tell her to.  Watch."  He laid down the camera case he 
was carrying and lifted the covers from the reclining girl's body.
     Lord Medwell's breath whistled out of him in one lewd groan when he 
saw the full ripe contours of the girl's lush young body.  The blue 
nylon gown had crept up to mid thigh, and the left shoulder strap had 
slipped down revealing a luscious mound of flesh the size and shape of a 
ripe melon.  Tom Morgan simply reached forward and pulled the bodice 
down until it revealed the brown areola and nipple.  "Watch," he ordered 
again.  Taking the nipple between his thumb and forefinger, he cruelly 
tweaked it.  The girl did not stir, but the nipple -- like some slowly 
awakening thing -- came erect.
     "Watch," Morgan repeated, and lifted the hem of the gown to uncover 
the pouting mound of Venus between her legs and its luxuriant growth of 
sparse black pubic hair.  He parted the girl's legs and, using his right 
arm under her knees, raised them until the soft pink lips of her vagina 
came into view.  Morgan glanced over at Lord Medwell and laughed at the 
rapidly breathing older man.  Slowly, he placed the tip of his middle 
finger against his thumb and then flicked at the pouting clitoris.  The 
girl remained motionless, but a low moan of lust was wrenched from Lord 
Medwell's throat.
     Morgan dropped the girl's legs; they remained spread lewdly out 
with the vaginal lips slightly open ... the entrance to her secret-most 
regions was completely exposed, defenseless.
     "Satisfied?" he queried with a slight knowing smirk.
     Lord Medwell trembled in eagerness.  "Oh my, yes!" he said 
hurriedly.  "Such a beautiful young creature.  Such a fine tight little 
cunt.  I can hardly wait to pay a visit there." He placed his camera on 
the chair.
     Tom Morgan grinned at the older man and mentally laughed as he said 
to himself, "The old goat is really in heat tonight." And why not!  
Hadn't he carefully built Lord Medwell up to this point; hadn't he spent 
weeks and weeks in preparation for this moment.  Morgan knew Lord 
Medwell's proclivities -- as well he should, having catered to various 
wealthy and powerful men like him for over seven years.  As with most of 
Morgan's clients, Lord Medwell at sixty-six years of age, liked his 
women young, helpless, and tearfully innocent.  Most important, however, 
Morgan's operation was practically foolproof.  There had been no 
repercussions during the seven years; there was no reason why there 
should ever be any in the future.  In Lord Medwell's case, he liked 
young brides -- newly married, still with the dew freshness of their 
wedding ceremony clinging to them.  And what better place to get them 
than at a honeymoon resort, a romantic old castle where for over seven 
years brides had come to be deflowered by their adoring husbands.
     "These women," Lord Medwell had earlier explained unnecessarily, 
"present a great challenge to a man like me.  Young, arrogant, proud, 
and sure of their undying love for their new husbands, they have to be 
humbled -- almost broken in spirit -- before they can be taught to crawl 
to their real master's feet."
     Now as Lord Medwell watched the sleeping girl, he began to feel a 
familiar awesome power growing in his loins.  The sheer nylon gown, 
above the girl's waist, showed the smooth white plain of her belly and 
the mysterious crater of her navel.  Her pubic hair was like soft black 
down, and the thin fleece-lined vaginal alit was an open invitation to a 
warm and heavenly tunnel.  His eyes fastened on the contours of her 
buttocks and then moved up over the rising and falling of her breasts.  
He could see the little nipple still standing proudly erect.  Although 
his throat was dry, his mouth watered.  He was impatient to get his 
teeth and hands on those magnificent mounds of young, almost virginal 
flesh and to twist, tease, massage, and bite them until they became 
unbearably trembling volcanoes of passion struggling to erupt.
     "Hurry, Morgan," he snapped, not taking his eyes from the girl.  
"Let's start with the pictures!"
     "In a moment.  Wait until I get the camera on the tripod." A second 
later, Morgan grunted his satisfaction with the setup and said, "Okay."
     The thought of those young, almost untouched lips mewling and 
begging in passion, brought a rocklike hardness to Lord Medwell's penis.  
The blood pounded painfully throughout its throbbing length, and he 
could feel droplets of thick white seminal fluid already beginning to 
ooze from its urethral opening.
     "All right," Morgan directed.  "Stand close to her.  Start 
unzipping your pants."
     Lord Medwell opened the fly of his trousers.  His large prick, 
almost eight inches long and of astonishing circumference, leapt out as 
though it were some voracious tiger suddenly released from an 
insufferable cage.  The flash of light was brighter than a sun as Morgan 
snapped his first picture.  Hastily, Lord Medwell dropped his trousers 
and underdrawers.  Another flash, together with the sound of film being 
wound on the next exposure.
     "Go on," Morgan commanded.  "I'll shoot as you go along."
     Lord Medwell hesitated now for the first time; he glanced 
apprehensively toward Morgan.  "Are you positive she's under all the 
way?"
     Morgan sighed in exasperation and walked over to the bed.  He 
stared intently down at the girl.
     "Dorothy ... Dorothy, can you hear?" he asked in a flat tone of 
voice.
     "Yes." The word was a monosyllable without inflection.
     "Dorothy ... you are with your husband.  Open your eyes, Dorothy." 
He pulled Lord Medwell over alongside her.  "See, Dorothy.  This is your 
husband, Roger.  Say 'hello' to Roger."
     The girl blinked, then smiled and said in a loving voice, "Hello, 
Roger."
     "Dorothy, you will do anything your husband asks.  You'll do it 
because you love him, and you know it will give him great pleasure.  You 
will feel much pleasure from him when he makes love to you ... so very 
much pleasure."
     She was silent only a second, then she woodenly nodded her head and 
said, without blinking, "I will do anything my husband asks ... it will 
be pleasure."
     "Satisfied?" Morgan asked the older man.
     Lord Medwell eagerly nodded his head.  Morgan went back to his 
camera.
     Lord Medwell squeezed the thick foreskin back from his painfully 
throbbing prick and bared his teeth as he advanced toward the girl 
again.  The proud young bitch was totally at his mercy.  He had heard 
her giggling as she talked to her husband about him earlier that 
evening.  She had said, "That Lord Medwell is a dirty old man.  A nice 
rich dirty old man, but a dirty old man nonetheless.  Did you see the 
way he looked at me during dinner?" Well, the huge cudgel he held in his 
hand was a great equalizer between the generations.  He'd teach her.  
He'd see if she still called him a dirty old man when his prick was 
rammed deep between those white thighs of hers and its head buried far 
up inside her quivering little belly.
     He was only dimly aware of Morgan taking another photo.  The heat 
was on him and it was all he could do to keep from leaping like a 
starving wild animal upon his prey.  But common sense gained control of 
his body.  The pictures, the ones that would bring her crawling abjectly 
in helpless desperation to him and insure his and Morgan's future 
safety, still had to be taken.
     "Dorothy, dear," he intoned.  "Turn your head toward me."
     "Yes, Roger," she answered, and her head turned on the pillow.
     "Dorothy, it would give your husband great pleasure if you kissed 
and sucked on his penis ... as much pleasure as it gives you when he 
nibbles at your breast."
     A troubled expression crossed the girl's face.  She hesitated.
     Alarmed and wide-eyed, Lord Medwell turned toward the photographer.  
Morgan merely shook his head and put his finger to his mouth in a 
charade of silence.
     On the bed, the girl trembled and then, almost as if she were 
frightened of being bitten by it, reached out her hand toward Lord 
Medwell's cock.  The old man grinned in triumph and moved forward until 
the straining organ was almost touching her lips.  "Open your mouth, 
Dorothy."
     She did as she was instructed, and the smooth, throbbing tip 
slipped partially through her stretched lips and came to rest against 
her bared teeth.  The soft flesh of the ripe full puckered lips closed 
down about the head.  There was a flash of light as Morgan took the 
picture.
     Against his cock, Lord Medwell could feel the hot air exhaling from 
her nostrils, and could feel her innocent young tongue quivering in 
ignorance against the instrument in her mouth.
     "Delicious," he muttered, "simply delicious.  Suck a little and 
nibble a little, dear." He began moving his hips back and forth as 
Morgan came in with another camera for a closeup.  Several small 
droplets of cum had seeped from Lord Medwell's cock and had lubricated 
her mouth that was surrounding its head.  Looking down directly at her 
face, he could see a small stream of glistening saliva and cum running 
out of the corner of her mouth.  Again, for just a moment, the animal 
heat came upon him.  He wanted to shoot his full load into her sweet 
young gullet ... wanted to see her larynx jiggling up and down as she 
attempted to gulp it down; he could picture it-his cum would spurt out 
of her mouth, into her hair, and run like a white hot flow of lava 
across her breasts and down her belly.  The mental image goaded him into 
a sudden frantic motion and he was uncontrollably battering his cock 
down her choking throat, the girl was gasping for air and clawing at his 
buttocks when Morgan grinned nastily and said, "Easy, man.  We still 
have a few pictures to take, remember?"
     Lord Medwell reluctantly removed his cock from her mouth.  He had 
come so close ... so very close.  He stood there breathing deeply as he 
sought to regain his composure.  Finally he sighed and said, "That was 
beautiful, Dorothy.  Now your husband will repay pleasure for pleasure."
     He reached down and removed the remaining strap of her gown, and 
stared hungrily at the breast.  With a low moan of lust, his hot eager 
lips fastened like a leech to it.  There was another flash of light as 
he used his fingertips to tease the other nipple.
     Beneath his lips, he heard a low groan of pleasure from the girl.  
She placed both hands gently and possessively behind his head.  Lord 
Medwell glanced over and grinned in victory at Morgan.  His lips went 
back to work, and his other hand dropped until it found the moist hot 
cavern at the junction of her thighs.  He used his finger -- as though 
it were a violin bow -- to scrape across the length of her vaginal lips.  
"Oh ... oh," she purred.
     Dorothy began to breath more rapidly as the sensations mounted in 
her body.  Lord Medwell used his thumb and forefinger to tease her 
gently pulsating clitoris; this resulted in a low, almost animalistic 
moaning, "Ohhhh ... Roger ... that feels wonderful.  Bite me -- rub me 
harder!"
     Lord Medwell suddenly crawled onto the bed and crouched on all 
fours over the helpless young body.  "Dorothy, raise your legs and put 
them up over my shoulders," he commanded.  The girl paused, as if not 
understanding the instructions, but a moment later subserviently bent 
her legs at the knees and spreading her legs wide raised and placed her 
calves up over his shoulders.  Lord Medwell pushed her knees back 
against her chest; her upturned vagina, secreting its own lubricant, was 
in plain view -- unprotected and vulnerable to any attack.  His mouth 
watered in anticipation as he gazed rapturously down at the palpitating 
little pussy.  Spittle slid out of his open mouth as he lecherously 
ogled the open slit of her vagina running down from her smooth white 
belly and dark silken pubic hair to the full rounded spheres of her 
buttocks.  He could wait no longer to feast down between her thighs.  
His head lowered, his mouth opened, and his tongue -- like a wet red 
miniature little prick -- came into action.
     The girl gasped.  "Oh ... oh ... Roger!  You mustn't?  Oh ..." She 
jerked as his lips encompassed and began sucking at the soft hair-lined 
opening.  His tongue flickered like lightning against the clitoris, 
which was beating visibly.  "Ohhh ... daddy ..." Her hands came down and 
pressed against both sides of his head; it was as though she didn't know 
whether to force him away or force his tongue and face even deeper into 
the moist pit of her throbbing cunt.  Now his tongue had begun seeking 
entry into the vaginal passage itself.  It flicked in and out rapidly, 
little licks and little strokes of passion that penetrated almost two 
inches.  The girl's hands fell loosely from his head as she groaned and 
began to rotate her hips in an effort to get his tongue in deeper.
     Lord Medwell was an expert at this sort of thing -- had been ever 
since his early introduction and instruction in its finer arts by a 
fiery French governess while he was still only ten years of age.
     Suddenly, he withdrew the tongue and his mouth from her now 
responding vagina.  Dorothy groaned again, this time in disappointment, 
but only for a second, for his tongue had begun working again; its soft 
flicking tip made circles around the quivering erected clitoris, and his 
lips sucked, drawing the organ deeper into the hot saliva-filled cavern 
of his mouth.  Then he abruptly changed techniques again.  Like a 
thirsty dog lapping water, he used his tongue to lick the entire length 
of her wet, rotating cuntal slit.  Dorothy's loud moans of pleasure 
turned almost into a scream of delight when his tongue traced a pattern 
of fire past her vagina and kept going down, down until it made lewd, 
flicking entry into the tight, puckered little anal ring.
     Flashes from the camera -- like a summer electrical storm -- 
continued to brighten the room.
     Lord Medwell was oblivious to them now.  He had the snooty little 
bitch going; she squirmed and panted like a helpless puppet under his 
tongue.  She could be brought back to her senses now and she'd be so hot 
that she would beg him to continue.  She was completely at his mercy.  
Her mewls drove his tongue faster and faster as it licked its way up and 
down the now wildly clasping lips of her cunt.  She was almost there; he 
could tell by the contractions of her vaginal muscles.  His muffled 
laughter came as her hands desperately clawed at his head -- seeking to 
drive his tongue further and further into her.  The hot happy bitch, he 
thought; she doesn't realize that what she really wants right now is a 
hard cock.  She'll be begging for it within seconds.
     He pulled his face away, tormenting her.  Dorothy's face was wildly 
contorted in what appeared to be pain.  She cried, and it was a moaning 
plea, "No ... Roger.  Please, Roger ... keep going."
     Lord Medwell let her force him this time, and she did so, 
frantically, pressing his mouth against her hungrily quivering vagina.  
His lips rounded and covered the clasping viscous opening, and he thrust 
his tongue deep into it.  Her thighs closed convulsively around either 
side of his moving head.  On his inward strokes, he could feel her 
deeper vaginal muscles sucking and milking at his tongue as though they 
were seeking to rip it out by the roots and devour it.  Dorothy's legs 
had found leverage against his back and she pushed down until he could 
barely breathe.  With tongue deep in her vagina, he used the tip of his 
nose to titillate the tiny throbbing clitoris.  Every muscle in the 
girl's body seemed to be as taut as a steel cable.  The cords of her 
neck tendons stood out as she tried to raise her head to look down her 
naked body and see what he was doing.
     "Oh!  Ahhh?  Ahhhhaaa," she began, as if questioning exactly what 
was happening to her.  Then she screamed, "Aiieee ... Ah ... aiiieee, 
I'm cumming, darling!  I'm cumming!" Her body thrashed from side to 
side, her legs splayed open releasing his head, and her feet beat a 
tattoo of wild abandoned lust against the crumpled sheets.
     Lord Medwell didn't even glance over toward Morgan.  He could stand 
it no longer.  Even as the girl was thrashing and twitching 
involuntarily in the throes of her orgasm, he grabbed her flailing legs 
behind the knees again and shoved them roughly back against her 
shoulders.  His long rigid prick was placed against the visibly 
throbbing lips of her cunt.
     "I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk," he said through 
gritted teeth, and suddenly began pushing forward.  The elastic rimmed 
tightness resisted his huge circumference for only a moment, then 
rapidly gave way to his unrelenting pressure.  Down, down, down, the 
pulsating white rod drove.
     Dorothy tried to pull back from his attack.  "No, Roger," she 
whimpered, "darling, you're hurting me."
     Lord Medwell paused.  The contractions of her cunt continued to 
squeeze at the head of his cock; he hadn't realized the girl's pussy was 
so tight.  It fit his prick like a very tight leather glove, and he 
thought with some glee that the girl undoubtedly had been a virgin on 
her wedding night three days before.
     She obviously had never had a prick this deep into her before, he 
gloated to himself, as he watched her from above with a lust filled 
smirk on his face.  Her lips had curled back from her teeth.  Pleading, 
incoherent whimpers of pain came from deep within her throat.
     Abruptly, he could stand it no more.  He rammed forward giving her 
all he had in one great implacable thrust; his huge expanded cock sunk 
in all the way to his pubic hair, and his balls -- like weathered 
pendulums -- slapped hard against her uplifted buttocks.  Her legs 
jerked out wide on either side of his body as she kicked futilely into 
the air and screamed, "Oh, God!  You're killing me, Roger.  Please!"  It 
was a scream wrenched from the deepest depths of her tortured womb.
     As though he were demented, Lord Medwell screwed her brutally down 
into the squeaking mattress -- pounding into her with the uncontrollable 
fury of a typhoon.
     Morgan watched with some amusement as the old goat went about his 
business of ravishing the helpless girl.  He had already shot two rolls 
of film on his tripod camera and had expended another two rolls on 
closeups.  The girl's face was too distorted by pain to take any photos 
at the moment, but Morgan knew that her expression would change once her 
tight young pussy got used to the old man's cock.  You bad to hand it to 
him, he thought in admiration as he watched the white pistoning rod 
being driven relentlessly into the girl's tightly clenched vagina.  
Medwell's hung like a small stallion.
     Even as Morgan was thinking these thoughts, the girl's body seemed 
to be reacting slightly different.  Her groans of pain came less often 
now; they sounded different -- questioning, perhaps.  Once, when Lord 
Medwell had pulled his prick out about six inches and then driven it 
inward with one masterful stab, the girl had moaned and an unmistakable 
flicker of pleasure crossed her contorted face.
     A moment later, there was an almost imperceptible change in 
activity on the bed.  Morgan saw it first, simply a small motion on the 
part of the girl as she pushed up to meet a downward thrust.  The rest 
came rapidly; the young bride's eyes were beginning to glaze in 
pleasure, and her tongue had crept out of her mouth to rest quivering on 
her lower lip.  It presented a lustful picture; Morgan lost no time in 
capturing her lewd changing expression on film.
     Now the girl was moving, experimentally rotating her hips and 
putting her arms around Lord Medwell's midriff.  Not satisfied with 
this, she reached down and cupped his buttocks in the palms of her hands 
and began of her own volition forcing him deeper into her.
     Lord Medwell could hardly contain himself as he felt her abdomen 
begin moving up and down in time to the thrusts of his hardened cock.  
The contracting muscles inside her pussy were hungrily at work massaging 
and sucking at the inflated head.  With each withdrawal of his long 
white cock, the pink lips of the vagina pulled and milked at the 
instrument.  The girl was a natural born piece of ass, he thought in 
glee, as her quivering body pumped up and down on the rigid penis fusing 
the two bodies together.
     Morgan had begun to feel some excitement growing within himself as 
he watched the girl strain against the older man.  When she raised her 
ass from the mattress, he could see the little brown puckered anal 
entrance already covered with trickling cum.  And he thought happily, 
eagerly: You're next, little asshole, you're next!  I've got just the 
thing for you.  Morgan took photographs of it all, capturing on film the 
utter abandon of her labours and the half-crazed erotic smile of lust 
playing across her taut lips.  She was moving even faster than the old 
man now, and thrusts had become more violent as she desperately sought 
her second orgasm.  Above the tortured creaking of the bed and the 
almost obscene slap of flesh against flesh, Morgan could actually hear 
the wet sluicing sounds of her hungrily sucking pussy as it reluctantly 
relinquished its hold on the lustfully driving cock sunk deeply between 
her thighs.
     Suddenly the girl's back arched and she pushed upward with a 
frightening power that almost threw the old man out of the saddle.  
"Ooooh God ... I'm cumming, love me.  Fuck harder ... fuck fuck ... 
fuck, fucker, Roger ... Oh, God ... I'm cumming." With a deep throated 
groan: her body began convulsing in lewd untamed pleasure.  Hot wet cum 
spurted from the throbbing passage.  It's sticky warmth flowed down the 
crevice created by her buttocks; the viscous fluid inundated her anus -- 
bringing an impatient groan from Morgan.  She jerked about frantically, 
as though she were suffering seizure.  She clawed at the old man's back; 
her legs pumped against him as she sought to drive him in deeper.  Lord 
Medwell's face was taut as he sought his own release; he rammed his 
reaming cock forward with all his fading strength.  His body drooped 
down heavily on her, mashing her full ripe tits against his own hairy 
chest.  His long hard strokes moved violently in and out of the steaming 
passage that was now wet and slippery from the girl's continuing climax.  
Abruptly, he could feel the orgasm building up like explosive fumes 
inside his tortured balls as they beat against her unprotected ass.  The 
lustful pleasure arched across the nerves of his abdomen and his prick 
throbbed once, twice ... then began to spurt.
     "Oh, yes, darling.  Cum in me ... cum all the way inside of me, 
Roger." Dorothy chanted as her head rolled laxly from side to side and 
she frantically pumped her vagina up and down the long spurting rod of 
flesh in an effort to drain it of everything.
     Lord Medwell felt the hot slippery walls of her cunt sucking 
hungrily at his cock until there was nothing left in him, and his 
hardened organ began to deflate.
     The girl lay back full-length in bed, with his prick still buried 
inside her.  "That was wonderful, darling," she said, huskily.  Her eyes 
closed in weary pleasure.
     Lord Medwell slowly pulled his slippery penis from the girl.  She 
moaned as though reluctant to have it leave her body.
     Morgan, who had been becoming increasingly impatient, took a last 
closeup as the prick slowly slid out of her battered cunt.  He could see 
the girl's wet matted pubic hair -- like black moss hanging over a 
peaceful river bank -- glistening on both sides of her vagina.  The 
insides of her milky white thighs were smeared with the cum from both of 
their bodies.  The open crevice of her ass was completely wet from it, 
and Morgan knew he could stand the sight no longer.  If ever a woman was 
lubricated and ready for sodomizing this one was.  He already knew how 
it would feel -- hot, tight ... oh, so very tight!  ... and beautiful.
     "Hurry," he grunted to Lord Medwell, as be dropped his trousers.  
His own cock, like a lean telephone pole angled on the side of a hill, 
was stiffly ready.
     Lord Medwell wearily dried his wet penis on his underdrawers and 
put on his trousers.  A moment later he was standing behind the tripod 
camera.  "All right," he said.  "Ready any time you are."
     Morgan said to the girl, "Dorothy ... I am your husband, Roger.  
Say something to me."
     The girl scrunched herself deeper into the bed and mumbled 
hypnotically, Roger, darling, I love you."
     Morgan said, "Dorothy, darling, don't you want to repay your 
husband for the pleasure I just gave you.  It would be nice if you 
sucked on my penis."
     There was no hesitation this time.  Dorothy turned her head and 
opened her mouth.  There was a flash of light and Lord Medwell nodded.
     "Now, Dorothy, I'm going to make love to you in a new and 
excitingly different way.  Get on your hands and knees ... that's right, 
and spread your legs out wide."
     The girl did as she was told.  Lord Medwell moved in with the 
closeup camera.  Morgan used both thumbs to peel the smooth white cheeks 
of her tender young buttocks apart to reveal the quivering, puckered 
little brown circle no larger than a dime.  Really he thought in 
ecstasy, it looks like an oval of tiny pink lips.  He rubbed his prick 
in the crevice, lubricating it from Lord Medwell and the girl's cum.  
The girl winced when Morgan inserted his middle finger into the opening.  
He moved it in and out, and around and around.  The girl moaned in pain 
when a second finger joined the first.  Then Morgan could stand it no 
longer: Placing the tip of his hardened cock against the tight, puckered 
nether lips; he plunged forward ...
     The photograph was taken just as the head of Morgan's cock 
disappeared through the tight resisting ring of anal muscle.  Lord 
Medwell continued to shoot pictures as Morgan gleefully pounded his 
prick into her vaginal rectum and until her groans of pain became mewls 
of pleasure and surprise and finally of screaming release as her 
helplessly impaled body reacted orgasmically like a bitch dog in heat to 
the unnatural invasion of her bowels.

                             *     *     *

     Downstairs, the clock struck twice.  Lord Medwell helped Morgan 
change the badly stained and wet linens on the bed, as the girl stood 
blank-eyed and stiff near the closet.
     "Get back in bed, Dorothy," Morgan ordered.
     The girl walked like a zombie across the room and climbed into bed.
     Morgan pulled the covers up to her shoulders, the began intoning, 
"You are sleepy ... sleep.  When you awaken tomorrow morning at nine 
o'clock, you will not remember that we were here.  Anything you will 
recall will be simply a dream about your husband.  Do you understand?  
You have been dreaming about Roger fucking you.  Say it!"
      "I ... have ... been dreaming ... about Roger ... fucking ... me."
     "Yes, you have been dreaming.  You are sleepy.  Your eyes are so 
heavy that you cannot open them.  You are sleepy ... sleepy."
     The girl slumbered peacefully.
     Morgan glanced at his watch.  "Two fifteen.  It's almost time for 
'Roger dear' to wake up next to my wife.  Care to bring your camera 
along and take candid snapshots."
     "Wouldn't miss it for the world, old boy," Lord Medwell laughed 
lewdly.  "Wouldn't miss it for the world.  If his pecker reacts half as 
well as that hot little cunt of his wife's, it should be quite a show." 
He clapped his hands together in eagerness.  "I can hardly wait until 
tomorrow afternoon when we show that arrogant little bitch our 
photographs.  How overwhelming.  How simply delightful!  She'll come 
crawling to me then.  Oh, she'll do anything.  Anything!" he gleefully 
repeated.  "And she'll do it fully conscious!"
     The two men were still chuckling as they walked the darkened 
corridors of the castle.  When they reached the east wing, Morgan pulled 
down on the handle of a sword on a suit of knight's armour.  The hidden 
door swung silently open to reveal a well-lighted passageway.  Two 
minutes later, they were seated in comfortable armchairs and drinking 
whiskey and sodas, as they watched -- through the large pane of one-way 
glass -- a young man slowly beginning to awaken next to a voluptuous 
nude woman who looked up directly at them and winked conspiratorially.  
Then her face changed.  She looked as if she had been weeping, and when 
the boy's eyes opened, she sobbed, "You beast, you.  How could you ... 
after we had offered you the hospitality of the castle ... to cruelly 
rape me ... Oh, Roger!  And I was beginning to be so fond of you.  What 
will poor Dorothy think ..."

                             *     *     *

     The following afternoon, a bewildered and ashamed Dorothy "crawled" 
for her pictures, and then learned that she must continue to be nice for 
as long as Morgan and Lord Medwell and their assorted friends decreed.  
Only then would she receive the negatives.  Precisely thirty-two minutes 
later -- the seminal juices of two strangers in her mouth, vagina and 
anus -- she leapt like a wingless bird from the roof of the castle and 
splattered against the cobblestone courtyard 90 feet below ...



                               Chapter 1

     The young girl -- fourteen, freckled-faced, and with a surprisingly 
mature body for one her age -- was dressed in skin-tight white shorts 
and was braless beneath her powder blue blouse.  She lay 'crosswise on 
the bed, and stared up at an older girl who was standing before a mirror 
and running a comb through long blonde hair.
     "But aren't you excited?" Marylou asked, shivering in vicarious 
enjoyment.  "I mean ... I would be!  After all, your wedding is only two 
days away, and then you and Dick go to that groovy castle place in 
Ireland for your honeymoon.  Why, you must be excited."
     "Of course I am, silly." Sue's voice was patient with her cousin.  
"I'm happy and excited.  But I'm also calm." That last statement was a 
lie, but Marylou couldn't know it.  The younger girl couldn't see the 
turmoil Sue felt, the oppressive feeling of apprehension that bordered 
on fear.
     "It must be wonderful to be really in love and be old enough to get 
married ... and wake up in bed next to your husband." Marylou put a hand 
to her mouth and giggled.  "I mean my husband.  If I had a husband."
     "Marylou?" Sue's voice had just a bit of shock in it; she gazed in 
mock severity at the girl and began weaving a thick braid into her hair.
     Marylou's face was cupped in her hands; elbows were planted on the 
bedspread.  The girl obviously decided to throw all caution to the winds 
with her next remark.  "Well, isn't a bed better than a back seat?"
     "Marylou!" Sue threw down the comb and spun around to face the 
girl.  "What are you talking about?"
     "What else?  Sex?"
     Marylou had the bit in her teeth and was not to be denied.  She 
abruptly sat up and curled her bare legs beneath her -- sitting buddha-
like on the bed.  "If I tell you something, will you keep it a secret?"
     "I don't want to hear it," Sue said, emphatically.  She was pretty 
sure of the drift of the conversation; this was nothing to discuss with 
a girl only fourteen.  She hadn't even talked to her mother about it, 
even though the older woman had hinted broadly that they must have a 
conversation before the wedding.
     Marylou looked toward the closed door of the bedroom as if 
suspecting someone were lurking outside at the keyhole.  Then she 
lowered her voice and said, "I know you won't snitch." She grinned 
conspiratorially.  "I'm not a virgin, you know."
     The news momentarily shocked Sue, although if she were really 
honest with herself, the information did not come as a surprise.  
Marylou showed all the signs of becoming a swinger, and she already had 
the build of a 22-year-old bikini model.
     The girl continued almost proudly, "I haven't been one for almost a 
year.  It was Petey Barnard.  After the final football game last October 
... after he was appointed head cheerleader.  We had a bottle of beer 
and it made me dizzy, and then he ... began feeling me.  And, ah ... 
asked me to feel him.  Then he got in the backseat of his car and ... ah 
..."
     "I don't want to hear another word." Sue's voice brooked no 
disobedience.  "Not another word." She shook her head in dismay.  "I'm 
shocked at you, Marylou, really shocked.  You're either fibbing or you 
just blithely gave away your virginity.  Just like that," she snapped 
her fingers.  "Just like you were giving away old clothes or something.  
I think you'd have more respect for yourself."
     Marylou merely shrugged and her breasts jiggled with the motion.  
She replied, somewhat defiantly, "It was fun.  It felt good.  And I've 
let him do it five other times, too.  We're going steady.  We love each 
other.  And everyone in school does it.  Why not?"
     "Why not?  Well, I'll tell you why not.  What does a fourteen year 
old know about love?  What if your parents found out?  What if the 
police discovered you and Petey in the back seat when you were ... you 
were?  What if you get pregnant as a result of it?
     Marylou snorted.  "Oh, poo!  I won't get pregnant.  I'm not that 
dumb.  Why, I wouldn't have let him do it the first time if he hadn't 
been wearing a rubber."
     Sue held up both hands commandingly.  "I said before I don't want 
to hear anymore.  I mean it."
     The younger girl shrugged again.  "Okay.  Okay."  She critically 
inspected Sue, then cocked her head to one side and bit her lower lip in 
indecision.  "You're a cool chick ... real cool.  But I wouldn't be 
surprised if you're still a virgin, even though Dick looks to me like 
he's the impatient type.  He's probably snorting and pawing the stable 
floor." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively.
     Sue strode to the door and angrily opened it.  "Out," she 
commanded.
     Marylou insolently got up from the bed and stuck her feet into her 
sandals.  Smirking knowingly, she walked across the room and stopped in 
the archway of the door.  "I wouldn't have believed it -- a girl as 
beautiful, as well built as you, a girl who has been engaged for over a 
year -- still a virgin.  Like wow!"
     "Yes, damnit.  I am still a virgin ... and I am proud of it.  Not 
that it's any of your business."
     Marylou held out her hands beseechingly, "Okay ... okay.  Don't get 
mad.  I was just curious.  I never have seen a 20-year-old virgin 
before." She was grinning impudently as Sue closed the door in her face.
     Impertinent little snip, Sue thought; My God, what are these high 
school kids coming too!  She knew Marylou wasn't putting her on; the 
girl was telling the truth about Petey.  A moment later, though Sue's 
inherent common sense took over and she realized that only a strong will 
power had kept her, too, from losing her virginity.  Marylou had been 
right about Dick, he was the "impatient" type ... but he was also 
understanding.  He had proved that time and time again.
     She and Dick had gone steady for almost two years before their 
engagement; and they had been engaged for almost twelve months now.  
While they were going steady, they had necked -- some really passionate 
kissing had come about, but when Dick had begun fumbling for her 
breasts, she had managed to stop him each time.  Since their engagement 
was announced and she received her ring, there had been some petting -- 
at least on his part.  She had permitted him the possession of her 
breasts and, three or four times, he had been allowed to touch that 
sacred area which would be completely his only after the marriage 
ceremony.  Sue had been forced to put a stop to his eager odysseys down 
there because of an underlying fear that she, herself, would lose all 
control.  It did feel wonderful; that, at least, she could admit.  
Unfortunately, after these episodes, she would lie awake all night 
feeling the restless pounding of her heart being echoed deep within her 
womb.  One night -- for the first and only time -- the throbbing had 
become so painfully intense that she had touched herself there with one 
finger.  She moved it cautiously, and her lonely vagina cried out in 
ecstasy.  A second finger joined the first, the two of them gently 
rubbing back and forth on the now damp slit.  The motions had become 
less tender -- more rapid!  She had continued this for almost fifteen 
minutes, but aside from her vagina becoming too tender to touch, nothing 
happened.  She hadn't even come close to that elusive realm of physical 
release mentioned in various books.  She tossed and turned all night -- 
sleeping fitfully.  The next morning she awakened to a deep sense of 
shame -- a feeling that still came back with the full force of its 
guilty intensity each time she thought about it.
     But now all that is past, she thought, as she finished braiding her 
hair.  A moment later, she slipped on a blue cardigan sweater to match 
her muted blue-plaid mini-skirt, and started downstairs.  Marylou, 
bright-eyed and undaunted, met her at the landing.  "Like, wow!  You're 
really getting some groovy loot," she said.  "There must be a couple of 
tons of crap in there."
     Sue laughed in spite of herself, "Marylou, you are hopeless."
     "Come on, let's see the stuff that came this morning." Marylou 
eagerly led the way to the living room where the already opened wedding 
gifts were piled atop each table as though they were luxury items on 
display in a small department store.  Other gifts -- unopened -- were 
stacked on the floor.  Marylou picked up one and shook it.  "Try this 
one -- from the Wilsons."
     It was impossible not to laugh at the girl: she was as excited as a 
four year old under a Christmas tree.  Sue cautiously unwrapped the 
gift, taking care not to ruin the white satin ribbon, and saving the 
paper.
     "Holy Donovan!  A Waring blender.  Neat-o!" Marylou's exuberance 
was contagious.  She grinned and affectionately put her arms around her 
cousin.  "Come on," she said, "you can help me open them.  But keep the 
ribbon, and the paper ... and the boxes.  And don't get the cards mixed 
up.  Better write down what the gift is on each of the cards, so I can 
write thank you letters later."
     The two girls had been working almost an hour opening and recording 
the new gifts when the telephone rang.
     Sue, thinking it was Dick, answered it on the second ring.
     "Sue ... this is Peggy Martini.  Your gown's ready for final 
fitting.  When can you try it on?"
     "I'll come right over ... if that's convenient for you."
     "Come ahead, dear.  I think you're going to be very pleased with 
it."
     "Oh, I'm sure I will be," Sue said ecstatically; then, as the 
doorbell rang, she shouted over her shoulder, "Marylou, get that, will 
you?"
     "Be sure and bring the undergarments you're going to wear at the 
wedding," Mrs. Martini added.  "We want the gown to be just right."
     "I'll be there in about five minutes." Sue said, hanging up, and 
looking toward the door where the deliveryman from Holman's Department 
Store and Marylou were both carrying in additional gifts.  Three 
different trips were made between the front door and the truck.  Sue 
signed the delivery slips while Marylou was busy counting and shaking 
packages.
     "Golly, seventeen more gifts ... and this one weighs about thirty 
pounds," Marylou's excited voice reported.  "Shall we open them?"
     "I can't right now.  Mrs. Martini wants to do the final fitting." 
Sue saw the disappointed look on the girl's face.  "Hey, why not come 
along to Mrs. Martini's with me?"
     "Oh ... I'd like to, but Petey and I are going swimming.  He's 
picking me up here in about twenty minutes or so.  How long will you be?  
Will you be back before he comes?"
     "I doubt it.  The fitting probably will take at least an hour."
     Marylou looked down at the rug and traced an abstract pattern with 
her big toe.  "I don't suppose you'll change your mind about the hayride 
tonight?" she asked hopefully.  "Petey and I wouldn't bother anyone.  
Honest.  I promise!"
     "I'm sorry, chicken.  No.  There will be liquor and, besides, 
everyone there will be in their twenties.  We'll be just a bunch of old 
fogeys."
     "Okay ... of you don't want us."
     "Look," Sue said in an effort to make the girl feel better, "I'll 
save some packages for you to open tomorrow.  Okay?"
     "Ummm ... I suppose so." It was said listlessly.
     Sue picked up her purse.  "I've got to go.  Be sure and lock up 
before you leave."
     Five minutes later, Sue was in a dressing room at Mrs. Martini's.  
She quickly slipped on the blue lacy garter belt and her hose.  "Now, 
dear, lift your hands straight up," Mrs. Martini ordered.  "No quick 
moves; the gown is just tacked.  We don't want it falling apart." Sue 
felt the rich nylon garment slip down over her arms and bead.  She 
looked at herself in the mirror.  The gown clung to her like a second 
skin.  Mrs. Martini zipped up the long zipper in back then stood away to 
inspect her work.  "Beautiful.  Just beautiful!" Mrs. Martini's face 
grinned over Sue's shoulder in the mirror.  "You like?" she asked, 
fitting a veil over Sue's blonde hair.
     "Oh, yes!" the girl answered sincerely.  "It's ... it's just ..." 
She closed her eyes, unable to think of the appropriate phrase.  It is 
so beautiful, she thought; Dick will love me in it.
     The older woman smiled in understanding.  "Well, that's all then.  
We'll sew it up this afternoon; I'll deliver it on Sunday around one."
     "You mean ... that's all?  Nothing more for me to do?"
     "Nothing," she said airily.  "All you have to do is step into it 
Sunday at three, and then walk down the aisle."
     Mrs. Martini helped her out of the gown, and Sue dressed again in 
her blue sweater and plaid skirt.  She glanced at her watch and was 
surprised to see that only ten minutes had elapsed.  "Maybe Marylou will 
get to open some more packages after all," she said to herself.
     It was a pleasant day, Sue noted, as she walked the two blocks back 
to her home.  Sue felt like skipping, and she did ... for a second or 
two until she remembered to be ladylike.  She hoped the clear warm 
weather would hold until Sunday at least.  She hoped it would be nice 
weather in Ireland.  She hoped so many things, "But mainly I hope Dick 
and I will be happy together." She was humming a tune when she turned 
the corner and saw Petey's car in the driveway.  Her step faltered; she 
abruptly remembered Marylou's candid confession about being intimate 
with the cheerleader.  The boy was only fifteen, he might even be 
fourteen -- not yet handsome, but fairly good-looking, with a pleasing 
personality.  He had a certain poise; Marylou had undoubtedly helped to 
bring part of that about.  During the Spring semester, he played 
shortstop on the high school baseball team -- was too small of stature 
and build for football -- and had earned his letter.  Marylou and he 
made a rather attractive couple of teenagers, Sue thought.  Still, 
though, they were teenagers and should not have been physically 
intimate.
     Knowing what she did, Sue was sure that she would be unable to hide 
her mixed emotions if she faced the boy, so she walked around the side 
of the house and came quietly in the back way.  She had planned to stay 
in the kitchen until he and Marylou left to go swimming.  Obviously, 
they would have to be leaving in a minute or two.
     The house was quiet -- too quiet, she thought.  Surely the young 
couple had left.  For a moment, Sue deliberated calling Marylou's name, 
then decided she would just walk in unannounced.  After all, it was her 
home!  Sue left the kitchen and went through the alcove next to the 
living room.  She was about to slide the doors open when she heard what 
sounded like a low cry of pain.  Puzzled, she peered through the crack 
and then froze in shock and amazement.  There, stretched out full length 
on the couch, were Petey and Marylou.  The girl's white gym shorts had 
been unzipped and -- together with her white nylon panties -- were down 
about her knees.  Her blouse was open all the way, and Petey's mouth was 
glued to her right breast.  Even as Sue watched Marylou groaned again -- 
and Sue realized it was not a cry of pain, but of delight.  The boy's 
middle finger was sawing away in maniacal fury at the junction of 
Marylou's widely outspread legs.  Her young pelvis was moving up and 
down in an effort to capture and hold on to the elusive digit.  From her 
vantage point, Sue could even see the enlarged pink clitoris almost as 
large as an infant's penis.
     Sue knew she should go away -- go back to the kitchen -- and 
perhaps slam a door as if she had just entered.  Then she could call out 
Marylou's name; that would give the boy and girl a chance to get into 
their clothes.  But then she also knew that she wouldn't be able to face 
either one of them after what she was viewing now.  Her attention 
snapped back to the front room as Marylou arched her back up off the 
sofa and began to pant hoarsely.  "I'm cumming, Petey," she cried once, 
then fell back, her face twisted in a lewd expression of delight and her 
legs beating against the leather couch.
     After her movements had slowed, Petey took his finger away and 
lifted his mouth from her breast.  He slid one knee over her thigh, as 
he began fumbling with his zipper.  "Put it in for me, huh?" he 
requested.
     "No!  I told you no." Marylou said.  In spite of the fact that her 
eyes were closed in satiation, there was no mistaking her adamant tone 
of voice.
     "Please!" It was a frantic plea from the boy.
      Marylou sighed in exasperation and opened her eyes.  "I told you 
before you started messing around.  It's the dangerous time of the month 
for me, and even if it wasn't, you'd still have to have protection.  You 
know that!"
     "Oh, God.  I'm dying," the boy wailed.
     Marylou sat up on one box.  She had a very patient expression on 
her face.  "Lie on your back," she ordered, and turned on her side to 
give him more room.
     Petey did as he was told.  She suddenly realized that Marylou knew 
exactly what to do ... had probably done this many times before.  Even 
as she watched, Marylou expertly unfastened the boy's belt, undid the 
waistband hook, and then unzipped the trousers.  His jockey shorts were 
bulging.  Marylou's hand slipped in the opening and withdrew the penis.
     She was frozen; she couldn't have moved now even if the house had 
been hit by an earthquake.  She had never seen anything like this 
before, although she knew it must happen all the time between some boys 
and girls.  It had almost happened with her and Dick.  That didn't 
change the situation; it was still lewd, dangerous, and wicked.  
Marylou's hand encircled the virile instrument at a point just below the 
head of the organ.  She began moving her hand up and down, up and down.  
Petey lay back with a blissful look on his face, his eyelids fluttering, 
and his breath coming rapidly.
     "Let me know," Marylou said.
     "Yeh ... yeh ..." it was a hoarse grunt.
     Less than thirty seconds later, Petey raised his buttocks off the 
couch and his face twisted in a grimace, "Ahh ... ahhh," was all he 
said, but the communication was obviously effective for Marylou quickly 
used her other hand to pull up the jockey shorts just as the first white 
spurts of the boy's sperm came flooding through the subterranean 
channels of his penis.  Marylou continued to stroke him -- more gently 
now -- and on her face was an unfathomable look that might have been 
either pleasure or satisfaction.  Finally her hand motions stopped.  She 
grinned down at the boy.  "Feel better, sugar?" Sue asked softly.
     "Ummm.  God, yes," Petey sighed.  "It's not as good as the real 
thing -- like fucking inside of you ... but it's better than nothing."
     Marylou laughed, "And better than doing it yourself?"
     "Hey now.  I don't ..."
     "You do," and she hit him playfully, "doesn't everyone?"
     After a moment, Marylou brought her hand out from beneath his 
jockey shorts.  Sue could see the hand was all wet; it glistened in the 
reflected light.  Marylou calmly wiped her hand on the tail of his tee 
shirt.  Petey turned his head toward her; Marylou's breast was only 
three inches away from his mouth.  He parted his lips, his tongue came 
out and licked the erect brown nipple.
     With a look of rapture on her face, Marylou put her hand behind his 
head and pulled him closer to her.  His mouth opened all the way as he 
seemingly attempted to devour the entire breast.  "Ummm ... that's 
wonderful." Then, abruptly, she pulled away from him and was very 
businesslike.  "That's enough," she said in mock sternness.  "We'd 
better get going.  Sue will be back in a few minutes.  Come on ... get 
up, lazy." She prodded him with her knee.
     Reluctantly, Petey stood up and faced the alcove door behind which 
Sue was hiding.  His levis were down around his knees, and he stood 
straddle-legged to keep them from slipping down any further.  In an 
attempt to straighten out his sopping wet jockey shorts, he was forced 
to lower them to about mid-thigh.  Sue saw his cum-covered penis, 
flaccid now and only about two and a half inches long.  He used the 
lower part of his tee shirt to dry it, and the vigorous drying motions 
started the organ swelling and elongating again.  Marylou unconcernedly 
got off the couch, and Sue was able to see sparse young triangle of 
pubic hair before the white nylon panties and tight white gym shorts hid 
it from sight.  Casually, the girl buttoned up her blouse, all the while 
smiling affectionately at the boy.  A moment later, arm in arm and 
giggling, they left; this was followed by the sound of Petey's car 
starting up.
     Sue suddenly realized that she was debilitated -- so weak that her 
legs were almost unable to support her weight.  She felt shame at having 
acted as a "Peeping Tom", but more than that, she could feel a sense of 
forbidden excitement that raged like a wild fire in her own loins and 
brought a hot fevered dampness between her thighs.  For a moment, when 
the boy and girl had been petting, it seemed almost as if Sue herself 
were being fondled.  Woodenly, she slid the door open and walked to the 
couch.  She reached out one trembling hand and touched the leather.  No, 
it hadn't been a dream.  The leather was still warm from the heat of 
their bodies and, in one place where Marylou had lain with her bare 
buttocks pressed against the sofa.  She could feel dampness where the 
girl's love juices had flowed down between her legs to the couch itself.
     She sat down and thought about what she had seen.  The performance 
of the two teenagers was wrong.  Not only wrong, but sinful and 
dangerous.  Yet, on the other hand, it had seemed such a natural thing 
and so very enjoyable!  She had no doubt that the real act of sexual 
intercourse between Petey and Marylou would be just as natural -- 
accepted just as calmly.  And her thoughts moved on to her relationship 
with Dick.  When she permitted Dick to fondle her, she had known 
excitement ... at least for a few happy, beautiful moments.  Always, 
though, she had become frightened as she felt her senses drifting away 
leaving her body helpless to any onslaught.  And so, she had tightened 
up each time.  As for touching Dick's penis ... no matter how much Dick 
wanted her to caress him, she couldn't bring herself to do it.  His male 
organ frightened her.  Even though she had never seen it, she knew it 
was much, much larger than Petey's.
     Sue picked up a wedding gift.  "Everything will be much better 
after the wedding," she said aloud, and felt immediate depression 
because she was pretty sure it wouldn't be that much better.  She forced 
herself to grin and began ripping the paper off the package.  "I am just 
having prewedding jitters.  Every bride has them.  Don't they?" And she 
laughed humorlessly with the realization she was talking to herself.  
More than once during the next hour her eyes fastened on the couch, and 
she found herself wondering what it would be like if she and Dick ...
     Five hours later, when Dick came to pick her up for the traditional 
"final date" before marriage, the combination of perturbation and 
forbidden excitement still racked her body.  She met Dick at the door, 
threw her arms around his waist, and kissed him warmly.  As she pressed 
her body in close to him, she could sense his surprise at her 
uninhibited welcome.  Her mouth opened to receive his tongue and her own 
tongue quivered and played effusively with his.
     Dick, delighted with the greeting, drew back and asked, "What gives 
here?"
     "I can kiss my husband-to-be, can't I?" she said, grinning in what 
she hoped was a wicked manner.
     "Anytime, baby.  Anyway!" They clenched again, then drew quickly 
apart as Sue's mother banged a door at the top of the stairs and came 
down.
     "Good evening, Richard," she said, primly, not smiling.
     "Hello, Mrs. Ogden.  How are you this evening?"
     "Not very well, thank you.  I have a headache." Silence settled 
over the group.  Sue finally broke it by taking Dick's arm and saying, 
"Don't wait up, Mother.  It'll probably be after midnight before we get 
back from the hayride."
     Mrs. Ogden stared at Sue, then nodded.  "Have a good time," she 
said, and it was obvious the statement was made perfunctorily.
     Dick opened the door for Sue and led the way to his side of the 
convertible.  She slid in, showing more thigh than she usually showed, 
and didn't bother to pull down her skirt when Dick got behind the wheel.  
His mind was on something else, it seemed.  "Brrr," he said, shivering 
as though he were freezing.  "It was a bit cold in there tonight."
     Sue quickly put her hand over his.  "Mother means well."
     "Sure," he answered, starting the car and backing out of the 
driveway.  "Just like last week when I told her to cheer up; that she 
wasn't losing a, daughter, she was gaining a son.  She looked at me like 
I was something that had crawled out of the apple pie and said, 'I am 
losing a daughter.'"
     "Everything will be all right," Sue said, moving over until her hip 
was touching his.
     Dick looked down at her legs and breasts, grinned, and said, 
"Everything is perfect already."
     She dimpled and replied, "Thank you, kind sir," and felt the 
happiness well up in her.
     Dick drove quickly -- surely -- driving with one hand, with his 
other arm around her shoulders.  His tape deck was playing something 
soft -- something for people in love.  Neither of them spoke as they 
drove out of town, heading toward the farm where the haywagon ride was 
to originate.  They were the last to arrive.  Other couples were already 
in the wagon, and shouting impatiently for the evening to begin.  
Several bottles of hard liquor were in evidence, being passed around to 
be drunk straight.  Sue had a mouthful of straight bourbon and coughed 
as it burned its way down her throat to her empty stomach.
     Someone began singing as the two horses pulled the wagon across the 
countryside.  With the coming of darkness, the various couples began 
snuggling down into the sweet--smelling hay.  There were muffled giggles 
from the girls and occasional barks of laughter from the boys.  Sue knew 
all of the others on the ride -- most of them had been friends since 
kindergarten.  They were a nice bunch of kids, she thought.
     Dick pulled her down deeper into the hay, and she found herself 
almost buried in it, and lying full-length and pressed against him.  The 
image of Petey and Marylou came to her at once, but she forced it out of 
her mind by asking, "Happy?"
     "Uh-huh.  You?"
     In reply, she kissed him and found his mouth partially open: 
without volition, her tongue swam into his mouth.  He savagely returned 
the kiss, and the excitement Sue had felt earlier began creeping back 
again.  Now Dick's hands cautiously touched her breasts.  Even through 
the sweater and blouse and slip and brassiere, she had felt the 
electricity between them.
     The spell was momentarily broken when from the other side of the 
wagon, Sally Miller, the pert little redhead who was to serve as 
bridesmaid on Sunday, said very loudly, "Harvey Johnson.  You stop that.  
You just behave yourself.  You hear?" The remark was followed by ribald 
laughter from all the boys, including Dick.  Even the driver, a 70-year-
old coloured man, doubled up in laughter.
     A second later, Dick began kissing her again.  Their two tongues 
sparred, and she felt his hands becoming more sure of themselves when 
she did not protest.  Lying as they were, face to face, Sue was also 
becoming very aware of the hard bulge beneath his trousers, which 
confessed his desire.  She wanted to reach down there and caress him the 
way Marylou had caressed Petey; she was steeling herself to do it when 
his hands moved beneath her sweater and his knee moved between her 
thighs, separating them.
     She made no effort to halt his fumbling efforts to unfasten the bra 
clasp, trusting him and herself.  His movements, concealed by the straw 
and the night, were successful.  A delicious moment later, his bare hand 
was on her naked breast; his fingers played over the nipple and he 
lovingly squeezed the firm, full mound of flesh.  Never before had it 
felt so delightful to her.  His tongue had become imperative, his 
movements almost frantic.  His hips buffeted against her pelvis.  She 
found herself panting -- wanting him to stop, yet deep inside wanting 
him to go ahead forever.  She wanted him to kiss and bite her breasts 
the way Petey had with Marylou.  She was only vaguely aware of the 
clopping of the horses' hooves and the murmuring sounds of other couples 
who had also buried themselves in the anonymity of the hay.  No doubt 
everyone was necking furiously, she thought.  Suddenly, the breath went 
right out of her body.  With one unhesitating smooth motion, Dick's hand 
slid up her thigh, dug itself under the thin elastic leg band of her 
panties, and touched the hot, moist lips of her now fevered vagina.  Oh, 
God!  She had been dying for him to do this ... and now she didn't want 
him to.  Immediately she dropped her arm and tried to pull his hand 
away; she also attempted to move her mouth from his.  She was helpless, 
so weak.  She was almost beside herself as he began massaging the hot 
throbbing passage between her legs.  Once, his thumb and forefinger 
tweaked the sensuously tingling clitoris and a shower of ecstasy sparked 
through her groin.  He began using his other arm to force her hand down 
toward the awesome bulge in his pants.  She could feel reason leaving 
her; it was insane.  "No ... no!" she cried aloud and struggled upright.  
No one noticed her.
     Sue saw him looking at her, wild-eyed and trembling.  Finally he 
seemed to gain control of himself and nodded that it was safe to come 
back into his arms.  She did so, trembling like a person afflicted with 
epilepsy, and kissed him gently on the lips.  The bulge in his trousers 
felt even larger now, and she could feel it beating like a second heart 
against her bare thigh.
     She had almost decided she would do something about relieving him, 
when the driver shouted to someone, and Sue heard Sally Miller's voice, 
"Hey, everybody, we're here!" The wagon made a half circle and stopped 
at the bank of a river.  A huge bonfire was scattering sparks to the 
night.  The smell of broiling steaks came on the wind.  A keg of beer 
was tapped as one of the farm hands began playing a guitar.  Dinner was 
followed by a round of singing as the bonfire slowly died down.  One by 
one, the couples began drifting into the perimeter's darkness.
     Sue felt Dick's hand pulling her to her feet.  Arm in arm they 
walked down the dark beach.  They had almost reached the end of the sand 
bar when he suddenly stiffened and whispered, "Shhh.  There's someone 
out there." Sue could hear the muffled groans and something that sounded 
suspiciously like the sound of body slapping against body.  "What is 
it?" she whispered, half-frightened, not knowing what lay out there in 
the darkness.
     She saw Dick grin and he put his mouth against her ear.  "I think 
it's Sally Miller and Harvey Johnson.  Come on, let's see."
     Sue held back.  "That wouldn't be nice," she hissed.  "We 
shouldn't."
     "Come on," Dick insisted, and took her hand.  "Be quiet."
     They moved silently across the beach heading toward the little 
gully that separated the sand bar from the bank.  Dick pulled her low to 
the ground in order to cut down their silhouette.  They peered over the 
bank.
     Sue made an audible gasp, which was quickly shut off by Dick's hand 
over her mouth.  Her eyes were wide in amazement.  There, down below 
them, only about ten feet away, were two nude bodies.  Sally Miller's 
naked white thighs were spread wide and jerking frantically in the air 
as Harvey Johnson lay heavily between them.  She saw Harvey's buttocks 
raise, revealing a huge white rod of glistening flesh in the moonlight; 
the rod was sunk deep between Sally's open thighs!  Harvey thrust it 
forward and the girl's naked vagina rose to meet it in midair.  She 
squealed out in delight.  Faster, faster, the two bodies moved against 
each other.  Sally's breath was coming in loud, short, puppy-dog-like 
pants and her movements were frantic.  "Fuck me harder, harder ... oh, 
yes ..." Sally groaned then, with her face contorted in lascivious lust 
and passion, cried out, "I'm cumming, Harvey.  Ah!  Ahhh ... aieeeee.  
I'm cumming.  Fuck harder!" She made one maddened thrust upward and then 
fell back on the sand, her body spasming uncontrollably, her legs 
pounding the ground.  A moment later, Harvey rammed forward and groaned 
out his own release, and the couple lay still; the only sound was their 
hoarse exhausted breathing and the slap-slap-slap of water as the little 
silver river waves rolled peacefully up on the sandbar.
     Sue was only vaguely aware of Dick leading her away into the 
darkness.  Well, now she'd seen it.  She knew the word for it; Sally had 
been 'fucked', and Sally had used the word 'cum' as her body went insane 
with lust ... just as Marylou had screamed out she was 'cumming.' And 
Sally had enjoyed it, had obviously been deliriously happy during it ... 
and so had Marylou.
     The sight had almost maddened her with a strange unwanted desire.  
She could feel the hot dampness now of her own awakening loins.  Dick 
was pulling her firmly away from the bank toward the darker shadows by 
the bluff.  Once, when she opened her mouth to say something, he held up 
his hand and silenced her.  After they had gone about fifty yards, he 
stopped and pulled her body around toward him.  They kissed.  Sue wasn't 
attempting to tease him; she had a fire in her loins that cried out for 
extinguishment.  She didn't know how to put out the fire or how it could 
be put out; that would be Dick's job.  All she knew was that she was 
instinctively grinding her pelvis against that forbidden area where his 
trousers bulged.  Instinct told her that when these two junctions were 
finally joined, the fire would blaze up in an all-devouring 
conflagration, explode, and then slowly die like a beautiful sunset.
     Standing on tip-toe, abdomen wantonly pressed against him.  Sue 
suddenly felt Dick's sure hands sweep up under the short skirt and cup 
her thin panty-covered buttocks in his palms.  A second later, his 
thumbs hooked over the elastic waistband and with one delicious motion, 
her panties, were pulled down over her hips.  Dick fumbled with his 
zipper and then the long hard rod which had been held captive for so 
long was released.  It pressed hotly against her naked belly, throbbing 
hungrily with each beat of his heart.  Standing pelvis to pelvis, she 
felt his knees spread outward a bit to lower himself.  Then the fevered 
cock was between her thighs.
     "Dick," she moaned.  "Please ... no.  We can't." That was what her 
lips said, but her body was screaming, 'Oh, yes ... now, right now, my 
darling.  What difference does a day or two make now." And so, without 
conscious volition, she flexed and unflexed her thigh muscles against 
his throbbing penis knowing by his moan of pleasure that she was 
instinctively doing the right thing.
     Dick sawed his cock between her thighs; she could feel the hardness 
of it moving back and forth inside its sheath of hot thin skin.
     His finger had begun to seek out the now moistened entrance to her 
womb and after a second he found it.  He turned his hand palm up to cup 
the whole of her naked crotch in his hand and, at the same time, force 
her thighs apart.  She hated to lose that wonderful contact between her 
upper legs and his penis, but she permitted him to spread her anyway.  
His fingers were moving like those of a sensuous harp player across her 
vaginal lips.  She wanted to cry out in delight.  Never before had she 
ever felt anything so soul consuming.  Her neck arched and she moved her 
face from side to side, her lips contorted and panting out over and over 
again, "No ... no ... no," and obviously -- from her wanton actions -- 
meaning, "Yes ... yes ... yes."
     Dick was grinding his teeth and grunting softly as he moved his 
penis up and down the length of her thighs.  She could feel some 
moisture there; she wondered if he had 'cum'.  He still was hard, still 
was moving ... so obviously, she thought, he hadn't reached his climax.  
There was a moisture -- a hot, slippery moisture -- in her own vaginal 
split; the artesian springs of passion coming to life under his 
quivering rod.
     "Sue ... please!  I want you.  Let me." He continued to buffet her 
thighs with his prick.
     I can't let you, she thought, incapable of speaking through her own 
longing.  I can't stop you ... I won't stop you if you really try.  His 
huge rod now had slipped up to the top of her thighs and its head 
pressed and quivered against her hungrily throbbing cunt lips.  She 
cried silently, "Oh, how I want you to make love to me.  Do it now!"; 
nothing escaped her lips though except wild hoarse pantings of desire.  
For the first time in her life she felt as if something good was about 
to happen to her down there between her legs.  Her heart rejoiced.  
There was no fear this time, as there had been in the past.  No sudden 
withdrawal of her senses.  If anything, her senses stayed right there 
and intensified.  It was beautiful.  It was wonderful.  She wanted to 
cry out to him, "Take me ... take me now, darling." When her fiancee 
began pushing her gently down toward the sand, she went willingly.  
Panting, she lay on her back, legs slightly spread, looking up unseeing 
at the starry sky and watching as Dick unfastened his trousers and 
dropped them.  Then he was kneeling between her thighs, the heat of his 
bare hips and buttocks against her abdomen and legs.
     "Be gentle," she moaned, as she felt the huge head of his prick 
pressing at the lips of her unprotected vagina.  She lay there, the heat 
of the moment on her -- wanting it beyond all other things, and 
ecstatically happy that the fright had finally left her.
     Dick's tongue sought possession of her mouth, his weight descended 
upon her lower belly, and the first gentle probe of his cock slid 
lengthwise across her vaginal lips.  She gave herself to the sensation; 
she could feel all reason leaving her body -- replaced only by pure 
feeling.  Dick lifted his buttocks back a bit in preparation for this 
first entry.  The throbbing head of it touched her vaginal lips, pushed 
forward and separated the soft yielding pubic hair, and paused there 
beating, beating, beating.  Now he withdrew the head, now he replaced it 
and this time pressed just a trifle deeper.  Oh, God, she thought; it is 
so beautiful.  She could feel her vaginal lubricant oozing around the 
head of his cock.  Now she wanted it deeper.  Instinctively, she had 
reached down there to caress his balls when -- with a terrifying 
suddenness -- the breathless moment was shattered by the loud shrill 
tweet of a police whistle blown only a few yards away.  And the sound of 
it caused Sue's nerves to suddenly scream and react as though a stick of 
dynamite had exploded beneath her.  Simultaneous with the whistle, which 
was the signal from the wagon driver that the evening was at an end, 
there was the sound of a giggle right above them, together with a 
muttered, "Ooops!  Beg pardon." Sally and Harvey were laughing as they 
backed away after stumbling over them in the darkness.  "Didn't mean to 
break in," Harvey's voice said, followed by Sally's hissed "Shut up, 
Harvey."
     Sue put her hands against Dick's chest and pushed him away.  
Frantically, she tugged at her skirt, attempting to pull it down and 
cover her naked loins.  The beautiful moment had fled, and the way her 
nerves were screaming it was probable that it would not return for a 
long time ... if ever.  It was as though she were a child undergoing 
psychological conditioning: Reach out for a pretty vase and receive a 
powerful electrical shock upon contact.  Or an alcoholic reaching for a 
drink in an institution -- a type of don't touch conditioning ... 
brainwashing.
     Her nerve endings were all jangling like a hundred alarm systems 
being shorted out at once.  She wanted to scream.  Just as devastating 
was the embarrassment and humiliation that she felt.  God, how cheap and 
vulgar she must have looked there with her legs spread out like a wanton 
whore.  She covered her eyes and began sobbing quietly.
     Dick, though, was not about to give up that easily.  When he sought 
to pull her skirt up again, she jackknifed her knees beneath him and 
twisted on her side.  "Don't," she commanded, and it was an order not to 
be disobeyed.  "I'm so embarrassed."
     "God, we can't stop now," he groaned.  "It doesn't matter if they 
saw us."
     "It matters to me," and the sobs began coming more rapidly.
     Dick angrily rolled over.  "Oh, shit!" he said very loudly, and got 
to his feet, pulling up his trousers.
     "I'm sorry," she weeped.  "I can't help it."
     "Come on," he said, and it was almost a snarl of contempt, "Get 
up."
     Trembling, Sue stood and then feeling even more embarrassment, 
reached down and attempted to raise her panties; she heard them rip as 
her heel caught the elastic.  Dick had his back to her.  Why, oh why! 
did everything go wrong all of a sudden.  She had wanted him to make 
love to her -- she needed to be made love to.  He had even begun to make 
some penetration.  And then that ... that "damned" police whistle, 
together with Harvey's crude laughter and Sally's knowing eyes.  
Contritely, she completed her dressing, and then said quietly, "Dick."
     He refused to answer.
     She sniffed.  "Dick ... I'm so sorry."
     "Yeah, you acted like it," he mumbled.
     "Well ... I am."
     "Okay," he said, his voice cold and distant, and not giving an 
inch.  "You're sorry.  I'm sorry.  That doesn't make any difference to 
the condition I'm in right now -- the same god-damned condition I've 
been in ever since I met you.  Don't be surprised if you hear tomorrow 
morning that I was arrested for raping someone on the street."
     Sue flared, "It's just as bad for me."
     "I doubt it."
     "What do you mean by that?" she commanded.  "Forget it."
     "No, I won't forget it.  What did you mean?"
     He turned finally and looked down at her.  After a long moment, his 
shoulders slumped, and he sighed in exasperation.  "You can turn it off.  
It's easy.  Look at me, though.  Just look!" He cupped his bulging 
trousers in one hand and clenched his fist tight around it.  "What am I 
supposed to do with this?  Christ!  It hurts a man when he gets all set 
to make love and then nothing happens."
     Sue's retort was cut off by the sound of the police whistle again.  
Someone shouted their names, "Hey Dick ... Sue!  Come on.  Time to go!"
     "Come on," Dick said, roughly grabbing her arm and leading the way 
toward the wagon.  Sue followed him docilely; she was thinking of what 
he said -- about it hurting a man when nothing happens and he's ready.  
Marylou apparently knew the solution to that problem this afternoon with 
Petey.  And at that moment, Sue decided she would "relieve" Dick this 
way, if it would help him.  He would have to make the first move, 
though; she couldn't bring herself to be that bold.
     The ride back on the hay wagon was silent, and the atmosphere 
painfully strained between the two of them.  He made no effort to kiss 
or hold her.  When they got back to the ranch yard, he had assisted her 
down from the wagon and then opened the door to the right side of the 
car -- an obvious invitation to sit on her own side of the car.  Not one 
single word was spoken during the short journey home.  When he pulled 
into the doorway, he kept the motor running while he escorted her to the 
door.
     Sue's emotions were churning; she was torn between embarrassment, 
shame, and anger.
     "Good night," he said, simply nodding his head, and again making no 
effort to kiss her.
     All right, if that's the way you want to play it, to heck with you, 
Mister, Sue thought.  She forced herself to smile, though, and said, 
"Good night, Dick." She put her key into the lock, entered without 
looking at him, and closed the door behind her.  She stood there, heart 
pounding, with her back pressed tightly against the door, until she 
heard the roar of his engine and the screech of his tires as he angrily 
departed.
     "Sue, darling, is that you?" Mrs. Ogden's voice came from the 
living room.
     She sighed, that was all she needed to make the evening a complete 
-- an inquisition.  "It's me, Mother."
     "Come in here, please."
     Sue had no inclination to talk to anyone at the moment; all she 
wanted to do was go upstairs, take a hot shower, and go to bed with her 
own thoughts.
     "Sue?  Are you all right?" Her mother's voice was insistent.
     "Yes, Mother." Sue took off her sweater and put it on the hallway 
bench.  She glanced at her hair to make sure it was clean of hay and not 
too mussed, and checked her clothing for signs of disarray.  Then she 
went into the living room where the older woman stood before the 
fireplace.
     Mrs. Ogden's eyes flickered over her daughter as if she were 
evaluating a stranger's honesty or trustworthiness.  After a moment, she 
blinked and held a tightly wadded handkerchief up to her mouth.
     Puzzled and alarmed, Sue asked, "Mother?  What's happened?  What's 
wrong?"
     Mrs. Ogden seemed reluctant to speak.  Then with big tears looming 
up in her eyes, she reached out for Sue and said, "Oh, darling.  I 
should have told you before, but it was go embarrassing for me." She 
sighed deeply, wiped her eyes with a lace handkerchief, and sniffed.  "I 
just didn't want to embarrass you, too.  But I can't avoid it any 
longer."
     "What is it?"
     "Sit down, dear." She motioned to the couch, then sat down beside 
her daughter.  The older woman's face was flushing as she sought to put 
words to an obviously distasteful task.  "I've never spoken to you about 
... about your marriage duties and marriage night.  I must do so before 
you find out for yourself.  This is something a mother must pass on to 
her daughter.  It isn't something you will find in those horribly nasty 
dirty marriage manuals with their filthy pictures and diagrams ... or 
those Communistic sex education classes they tried to put on in the high 
school.  I'm so relieved that my woman's club was instrumental in 
getting rid of all that smut.  After all, this is something that should 
be taught and discussed in the home."
     She was appalled.  This was the last thing she ever expected to 
hear from her usually reserved mother.  The older woman was undergoing 
almost a Jekyll-Hyde transformation as she warmed to her subject.  
Earlier embarrassment had evaporated -- being replaced by something akin 
to hatred and anger.
     Mother said, "I think you know that men and women have different 
reproductive organs."
     Sue was amused in spite of herself, but she realized she must bite 
back her smile.  She wondered what mother would say if daughter was to 
tell her that the first time she had ever seen -- in living colour and 
stereophonic sound -- a full-grown male's erect "reproductive organ" had 
been that afternoon on the couch ... that Mother was sitting on the 
exact spot where Marylou's "reproductive organ" had damped the leather 
some 12 hours earlier ... that Sue's own "reproductive organ" had been 
rubbed by Dick's "reproductive organ" only an hour before.
     Mother continued her lecture.  "May I suggest that you use your ... 
ah ... reproductive organ as just that.  Get pregnant right away, as 
soon as you can, then you won't be bothered by Dick.  Sex, after all, is 
enjoyable only to men; it is something we women must bear with fortitude 
-- no matter how distasteful."
     Sue swallowed, confused.  "But, Mother " she protested, "Sex is 
supposed to be beautiful between a husband and wife."
     The older woman closed her eyes and shook her head.  "Sex is only 
beautiful in that it leads to procreation.  Remember the Bible: it says, 
'Woman submit to your husband.' That word 'submit' means just that.  Sex 
is a cross we women have to bear.  Nothing is fair or equal about it.  
For example, on your wedding night, you will give your virginity to 
Dick.  He will take it joyously.  And what does that gift cause you?  
Not joy!  Pain!  Your hymen will be brutally ripped, the pain will be 
excruciating ... and then you will begin to hemorrhage.  I have even 
heard stories of women bleeding to death on their marriage bed.  Once -- 
you remember? -- I broke my leg and the bone popped out of my skin?"
     She nodded, remembering the afternoon when she was only five years 
old; she'd had nightmares for weeks after seeing the blood, the white 
bone, and hearing the sounds of her mother's screams.
     "You remember how I finally passed out from the agony, and when 
they tried to move me I came to again, and how they had to give me 
morphine to ease the pain?"
     Wide-eyed and wondering, Sue said quietly, "Go on."
     "Well, the pain that afternoon was nothing compared to the agony I 
suffered when your father took my virginity ... even though he tried to 
be gentle.  That, of course, was before he became an insensitive 
alcoholic brute." The older woman's eyes narrowed in recollection.  "It 
was always painful.  It hurt every time he insisted on my performing 
what he called 'marital obligations." She held up her hand as Sue opened 
her mouth to speak.  "Wait, don't interrupt.  My mother suffered the 
same way, and her mother, and her mother's mother before her.  Your poor 
Aunt Margaret!  It is a fact of life you must learn to accept, and that 
is why I say to you, 'get pregnant as soon as you can'."
     Sue was slow putting her thoughts into words, but finally her 
feelings came tumbling out.  "But  ... but don't most women enjoy making 
love with their husbands?"
     "Whores!  And don't disgrace that beautiful word 'love' by using it 
in that filthy context.  'Making love', indeed!  'Making war' would be 
more like it, for the woman is always defeated, degraded, and brutally 
subjected to all types of indignities.  Can you image ... (No, of course 
you can't, and pray God that you'll never have to!) ... what it is like 
to have some foul breathed, wine-swilling, cigar stinking beast crawl 
like a spider over your naked body?" She shuddered from the thought of 
it; and Sue -- watching her mother's genuine horror -- couldn't help 
thinking about what had been said.
     Sue was fairly sure that her mother was telling the truth -- at 
least the truth as the older woman saw it.  Perhaps there was an 
inherited physiological trait that had been passed on through the female 
genes in her mother's family.  She had read and heard about such things.  
Perhaps it was painful!  Maybe there was some almost insignificant 
anatomical or neurological difference in the female line of her family.  
And, abruptly, as the horrifying thought came to her, Sue clutched the 
arm of the couch: Could the trait have been passed on to her?  Would she 
know agony ... instead of passionate enjoyment?  Would she have known 
excruciating pain if Dick had continued his penetration?
     Her mind was a maelstrom of confusion and fear.  There were so many 
questions she wanted to ask now ... and no one to answer them.  Sue 
wanted to ask if Mother had ever enjoyed a male's caresses and fondling, 
but such a question was embarrassing and at that moment almost 
senseless.
     Then, almost as if reading her mind, her mother said, "I think 
almost all women enjoy 'sparking' with a man -- the touch of his hand 
upon your arm," and the older woman blushed, "or a gentle kiss.  The 
body responds, of course.  But the act of sexual intercourse itself is 
degrading." A moment later she began speaking more rapidly -- almost 
irrationally.  "Remember what Saint Augustine wrote, 'Nothing is so much 
to be shunned as sex relations.' And remember what I said.  Sexual 
intercourse should be used only for procreating the race.  Birth is 
painful -- horribly so -- but the act of conception, of mindless 
copulation, is equally painful.  Get pregnant, my darling, as soon as 
you can."
     There was more of the same, but Sue's mind could not absorb any 
more.  Sue knew her mother was wrong -- terribly wrong.  That statement 
about only "whores enjoying sex" was almost pathetic.  Marylou certainly 
was no whore -- nor was Sally.  Then there was Cynthia and Donna, both 
of whom had been friends of Sue's for almost all of her 22 years; both 
had married earlier this summer.  They certainly weren't "whores", but 
they had made some ecstatic reports about what their husbands did to 
them in bed.
     Long after she had gone upstairs, Sue lay awake -- unable to sleep.  
She gradually became more and more certain that her mother was telling 
the truth as she saw it.  It was painful to Mother; it probably was 
agonizing ... to Mother, to Mother's mother, and Aunt Margaret.  If it 
was true, and Sue had absolutely no reason to doubt it, then most 
probably the same thing was inherently wrong with her.  It would be as 
agonizing for her as her ancestors once Dick made full penetration.
     It was a family curse, her confused mind decided; a curse handed 
down from one female to another on her mother's side.
     Down there -- deep within her womb -- she felt her vaginal muscles 
tighten.  It was a though a lock had been put in place ... a lock 
without a key ... a lock that would keep spring and summer out 
forevermore.



                               Chapter 2

     Dick knew he was acting like an immature teenager when he "burned 
rubber" pulling away from Sue's house.  He had popped the clutch without 
thinking, his mind too full of anger and unhappiness to care about noise 
or wear and tear on the new car.  His anger was directed against not 
only Sue, but himself as well.
     He realized Sue wanted to keep her virginity intact until the 
wedding; that, at least was understandable.  It was all right with him, 
too, as long as he could occasionally score with a college girl from out 
of town or one of the occasional hungry, but discreet older married 
women he met while working as sales manager in his father's imported 
automobile showrooms.  The really big problem was that Sue kept 
displaying these frustrating moments of willingness to go all the way 
... until she began getting up tight.  She wasn't a do prick teaser", it 
seemed more like she was really seared.
     He rubbed his cock through the material of his trousers.  His balls 
were hurting again -- the usual occurrence after a date with Sue.  
"Jeez, we came so close tonight, and she was almost letting me," he said 
aloud, and then added, "that god-damned police whistle scared hell out 
of me, too.  And Harvey making with the wise cracks ... that's all we 
needed ..." Sue had tightened up like quick concrete the second she 
heard the whistle; it was almost as if she had suffered instant rigor 
mortis.  Then something had seemed to have collapsed inside her when she 
realized there were witnesses.  That had been Harvey's idea of a 
practical joke -- butting in just at that moment.
     Dick stopped his car at a traffic signal; when the light turned 
green, he raced another car away from the light, burning rubber for 
almost half a block.  A black and white police car coming in the 
opposite direction blinked its headlights in warning at him, and Dick 
immediately slowed down.  He watched in his rear view mirror, but the 
police car continued its patrol and did not turn around in pursuit.
     When he turned off the Boulevard onto Main, he was surprised to see 
Harvey Johnson's sports car on the side of the road; its parking lights 
were blinking, and a cursing Harvey had his head under the hood.
     "What's wrong, pal?" Dick asked as he pulled alongside and stopped.
     Harvey looked up.  "Oh, this son of a bitching oil line blew on me 
again.  Third time this week.  Christ, for two bits I'd drive the god-
damned thing over the railing on the trestle and dance a jig all the 
time it was sinking into sixty feet of water."
     "You know where to come for a good new one."
     Harvey stuck out his tongue and made an obscene noise.
     Dick laughed.  "Anything I can do to help?"
     "Not unless you've got three feet of quarter inch copper tubing?"
     "'Fraid not.  Can I call a garage for you?"
     "Naw.  The cops came by a few minutes ago and radioed for the auto 
club; but the tow truck is out on the highway with a wreck right now.  
They can't be here for another half hour or so."
     "Okay ... see you later then," Dick said, and put the car in gear.
     "Hey, wait!" Harvey came over to the side of the car, a troubled 
look on his face.  "Say ... ah ... you could do me a favour."
     "Sure, anything."
     Harvey nodded toward the front seat of his car.  "Can you give her 
a lift home?  Her old man's going to be raising all sorts of hell even 
now; another thirty minutes, he'll probably be waiting on the front 
porch with a shotgun."
     For the first time, Dick saw Sally Miller peering at him from the 
dimness of the front seat.  "Hi there," she said, brightly.
     "Hello, Sally." Dick shrugged as he turned back to Harvey.  "Would 
you rather I stay with your car, and you take her home in mine?"
     "Naw.  I'm the only one who can sign the auto club slip.  Besides, 
with an Honest John citizen like you bringing her home, her old man will 
have to believe that I actually did have car trouble this time."
     "Right." Dick leaned across the seat and unlocked the door.  "Come 
on Sally ... got your bus transfer?"
     Sally slid out of the driver's side of Harvey's car, and her little 
mini-miniskirt crept up almost to her waist.  From the position of her 
legs, it was difficult to tell if she were wearing panties or not.  
Harvey paid no particular attention to her or her legs.  "I'll call you 
tomorrow," he said, patting her shoulder, and then looking over at Dick, 
"Thanks."
     "No sweat," Dick answered.  "Want me to come back after I've 
dropped her off ?"
     "Harvey shook his head.  "Not necessary.  I'll manage." A moment 
later, he was lost to sight as Dick turned the corner.
     Dick was all too aware of Sally's body next to him, even though she 
sat next to the opposite door.  She'd made no effort to pull down her 
skirt when she got into the car.  Her well-shaped thighs were really 
something to look at, he thought, and the proud upthrusting of her 
breasts beneath her sweater gave ample evidence that she had not 
bothered to put her bra back on after the beach episode ... if, indeed, 
she had ever worn one at all.  He'd be willing to bet that she wasn't 
wearing panties, either.  These thoughts and remembrance of the beach 
scene brought stirring life to Dick's penis again.  The vision of Sally 
being soundly fucked by Harvey came back all too vividly.  He knew he 
was tensing up, knew his prick was beginning to swell painfully again 
... knew also that Sally was aware of his tenseness.  God, that's all he 
needed now -- another hard on!  And with Sally, one of Sue's best 
friends.
     It was she who spoke first, saying "Look ... I'm sorry we ... 
Harvey and I ... ah ... interrupted -- intruded, tonight."
     He shrugged.  "It's okay.  You really didn't see anything anyway, 
because nothing happened."
     "I really didn't think so."
     "What do you mean?"
     Now she shrugged, and gave a knowing little smile.  "You're too up 
tight.  You'd be more relaxed ... if something had happened."
     "Is it that obvious?" Dick asked, mildly astonished at the girl's 
boldness.
     Sally grinned.  "You might say that it's obvious as hell." Without 
a warning, she reached over and touched the bulge in his trousers.  
"Like so." The contact created the same result in his loins as a match 
struck in a gasoline-vapoured chamber.  She left her hand, not teasing 
him, not caressing ... merely resting her fingers on the throbbing cloth 
lump created by his desire.  Sally's eyes were locked on his face; the 
intensity of her glance was something he could feel.  She seemed to be 
asking silent questions -- and receiving silent answers.  Dick was aware 
that he was driving very slowly now -- the vehicle was barely moving, as 
a matter of fact.  His breath caught with the next comment from the 
girl, "If we hadn't intruded, you wouldn't be uptight.  Would you?"
     Dick had to force the words out of his suddenly dry throat.  "I 
guess not." He kept his eyes on the road.
     "Then ... I'm responsible in a way." She looked over her shoulder 
out the rear view window, then glanced ahead of them.  "Keep driving," 
she ordered.  She had some plan, obviously; her actions were 
unmistakable.
     Through a haze of uncertainty and growing heat, Dick felt her hand 
leave his leg and begin fumbling with his belt.  "Take a deep breath," 
Sally said.  He did as instructed, and she quickly unfastened his waist 
band.  A second later his zipper scraped, and her knowledgeable hand and 
fingers released his hot throbbing cock from the imprisoning confines of 
his shorts.  He groaned deep in his throat as she stroked it a couple of 
times.  "My ... it's beautiful," she said, breathlessly.  "So big!  So 
hard!" She lovingly pumped it for a few seconds, then rolled it like a 
thick cigar between her fingers.  The reflected light from the dashboard 
instruments showed her hand moving up and down on his long white prick.  
God, how he had wanted a girl to do that!  It was almost more than he 
could stand.  Already, even though only thirty or forty seconds had 
elapsed, he could feel the gathering thunderheads in his balls.  The 
girl was an expert; she knew exactly what to do and how to do it.  He 
groaned, and his breath began coming faster.
     He was so caught up in the delicious sensation that Sally had to 
make the request twice.
     "What?" he muttered, not really sure he comprehended.
     "Move the seat back further," she repeated.
     Dick mentally knew what was coming next.  Eagerly, he reached down 
on his left for the seat release and pushed with his back.  The seat 
slid all the way back.  He was forced to drive with his arms almost 
straight out in front of him.
     Sally glanced out the rear view window again -- looked ahead at the 
vacant street -- and ordered, "Just keep driving.  Tell me if you see 
any cars coming from behind.  Call this my wedding present to you." She 
bent forward and her hot lips slipped wetly down over the head of his 
bulging cock.
     "Ahhhhhh," it was a moan of delight wrenched from his soul.  
Nothing had ever felt so beautiful before, or at least nothing recently.  
Her tongue flickered at the urethral opening and then ran maddening 
circles around the head.  She had pooched out her lips so that her mouth 
felt like a soft hot clamping vaginal ring, wonderfully moistened.  With 
her free hand, she reached down into his snorts and began gently 
squeezing his testicles in rhythm to her sucking movements.  Up and down 
her mouth moved, gently bobbing like an oil pump pulling precious liquid 
from the subterranean depths.  Dick was about to go out of his mind from 
the sensation.  The girl had said to keep driving, but it was almost 
impossible to do that because of what he felt.  He couldn't have been 
travelling more than three or four miles an hour when the girl, as if 
sensing his impending orgasm, began taking the cock deep into her 
throat.  Faster, faster, faster her head moved until Dick could stand it 
no longer.  He arched his back and raised his buttocks off the seat in 
an effort to jam it further down her throat.  She took it all, and as 
the head of his prick began swelling to enormous size, Sue started 
sucking voraciously, interspersing the vacuum with occasional little 
nibbles using her teeth against the trunk and head.  The dash lights 
showed her lips being pulled out grotesquely as they clung to his white 
driving rod.  He continued to push up to meet her, and she continued to 
take him.  His mouth was swollen shut and long hoarse pants of breath 
whistled through it.  His prick felt as though it weighed a ton -- a ton 
of hot molten lava restlessly surging below the surface of a volcano.  
He knew he was on the verge of cumming and felt he should prepare her 
but as her motions became more rapid and the suction increased, he 
suddenly knew it didn't matter.  She obviously had done this before; she 
was an expert.  The lava gathered, seethed and boiled.  The eruption was 
imminent.  Low guttural noises of delight came rumbling out of his 
throat.  He was cumming ... cumming ... almost there.  Almost.  Now ... 
Now!  Now!  The first hot spurts of sperm boiled out of his balls and 
screamed along the duct leading to the head of his cock.  "Ahhhh ... 
hahhhh." His cry was meant to give her some warning, but the sound 
merely increased her frenzy.  The hot cum roared out of his cock in 
great, smooth gushing quantities and she went on sucking furiously as he 
shot everything he had into her wonderfully warm, greedy mouth.  And 
still he came, as weeks of pent up frustration and abstinence manifested 
themselves in almost half a cup of the viscous elixir of love.
     She used her tongue to tease, her mouth and lips to suck, until his 
penis became less osseous and began to deflate.  It was as though she 
felt it necessary to suck every last drop of lust from him.  She 
continued to work until he was sure he was getting ready for another 
erection, then she suddenly stopped.
     Dick gave a mumbled sigh of happy release, and abruptly became 
aware that his car -- lights on, motor running -- was standing 
motionless right in the middle of the street.  Sally withdrew her 
dripping lips from his cock, then kissed its head which was inflamed 
from her nibbling and smeared with her lipstick.  She slithered up until 
she was enclosed in his arms.  Then she kissed him wetly; her tongue 
darted and licked around his mouth.  He could taste the alien taste -- 
the taste of his own sperm in her mouth.  Sally's face was slippery -- 
glistening from his seminal juices and streaked with her lipstick.  She 
scooted back over to her own side of the car, opened her purse, and 
carefully wiped her mouth with a kleenex as he began driving again.  He 
turned onto the street where she lived as she glanced over toward him, 
"Do I look presentable?"
     He inspected her face, and nodded.
     She smiled as he stopped in front of her house and started to get 
out of the car to open the door for her.  "Don't bother," she said 
quickly and slid out.  As her skirt flared up, he realized he had been 
right; she wasn't wearing panties, after all.  The crack of her smooth 
young buttocks was a dark inviting line at the top of her white thighs.
     Dick saw her father part the curtains and stare angrily out into 
the night.
     "He's seen you," Sally said.  "So now he'll believe the story about 
Harvey's car." She grinned impishly at him as she closed the car door 
and leaned through the window, "Did you like my wedding gift?"
     "The greatest."
     Her laughter came floating through the cool night air and, as she 
turned to go up the walkway, she tossed back over her shoulder, "Make 
sure Sue sends me a 'thank you' note." She was still laughing when the 
door closed behind her excessively wiggling little ass.
     Relaxed and sleepy, and feeling only a minor pang of remorse at 
having "betrayed" Sue with one of her best friends, Dick drove slowly 
homeward.  He puzzled over the opposite sexual reactions of the two 
girls; there was all the difference in the world between them.  Sue was 
loving.  She had moments of great warmth and tenderness that seemed to 
engulf him like a pleasant comforter on a cold night.  Yet, she had very 
obvious sexual hang-ups.  He knew -- from the way she reacted when he 
caressed her -- that she couldn't be frigid ... at least not in the 
technical sense.  She seemed almost "frightened".
     Sally was a different proposition.  She was "hot"; from the gossip 
among the fellows, Dick knew she fucked like a rabbit and had been doing 
so since her freshman year in high school.  She also had other talents 
in the sexual line, as she had just demonstrated!  There were a lot of 
girls in the world like Sally; he had known a few himself before he 
became engaged to Sue.  Some of them already at 14 or 15 -- were 
"tramps", and that, he knew, was the kindest word for them.  They 
pretended sexual excitement, they screwed, they bellowed, when they 
reached their pitiful little climaxes, but there was always something 
missing.  Sally really couldn't be called a "tramp".  She considered sex 
as merely another adjunct to friendship, and thus she enjoyed a good 
fuck.  When she got married, she would be the one who suggested "husband 
swapping".
     But Sue?  There was an untapped reservoir of passion in her; he 
could sense it.  There was more power, more heat in her loins than in 
Sally's.  But how to reach it that was another thing entirely.
     As he drove into his own driveway, he thought sleepily: Maybe Sue 
will change once she gets the wedding ring.  He was sure she would, 
otherwise the marriage would never go.  She wasn't at all like her 
mother -- dour and dried up and seemingly hating me.  At least ... he 
prayed she wasn't like her mother.
     As he got out of his car he felt the dampness of his shorts where 
the seminal juices had seeped after Sally had finished her 
ministrations.  For a moment, he visualized Sue doing that for him; such 
an act would be clear evidence that she had rid herself of some of the 
hang-ups.
     And, abruptly, he had an erection -- just as big and powerful ... 
and painful, as earlier.  The thought of Sue doing that stayed with him 
even after he hopped into the shower and until he soaped his penis -- 
running his slippery hands up and down its throbbing trunk.  Then ... 
feeling as foolish as a 15 year old ... he soaped until his huge rod 
spat out its load against the tile walls of the shower stall.  He 
watched the cum run down the tiles, and he thought: That's the last time 
I'll ever have to do that again ...



                               Chapter 3

     Saturday passed in a whirlwind of activity for Sally.  The wedding 
rehearsal was scheduled for four-thirty in the afternoon; it was to be 
followed by a dinner for the bridesmaids and ushers.  She felt awkward 
when she met Dick at the church that afternoon; she had planned to 
apologize to him, to hold him and have him hold her.  Yet, the second 
she saw him, an unwanted thought boiled up in her mind: He is going to 
hurt me tomorrow night ... I know it!
     Dick, however, surprised her by apologizing for his short behaviour 
the night before.  He seemed somehow different today -- more relaxed and 
at ease.  Abruptly, Sue felt all her doubts dissipating.  He was to be 
her husband; he would protect her.  He would never knowingly hurt her.
     And so the rehearsal passed, and Sue was in a glow of happiness as 
she sat holding hands with him during the prewedding dinner, listening 
to the idle gossip and chatter of the other couples.  When he kissed her 
goodnight at the front door, it was almost midnight.  She responded 
warmly to him.  "This will be the last time," Sue said softly, her voice 
full of love.
     "The last time what?"
     "The last time you'll have to say 'goodnight' like this." She knew 
her face was aflame as she said, boldly, "Tomorrow night you can whisper 
it before we go to sleep."
     Then she was inside the house.  The spell was broken immediately.  
Aunt Margaret, her mother's sister, was talking loudly in the front 
room.  Her strident voice cut through the hallways like a runaway robot 
harvester cutting down everything in front of it.  "I still say Sue 
should have had a surgeon inject a local anesthesia and then have the 
doctor cut her hymen.  And maybe he could prescribe some sort of 
suppository she could insert each time before, which would deaden the 
pain.  Why should she suffer needlessly?"
     Mrs. Ogden's whining voice came.  "Oh, I tried to talk to her -- to 
explain the disgusting thing that is going to happen ... but she just 
sat there with a look on her face that said, 'Maybe it'll be different 
with me, Mother.'  I just don't know what else to say to her; I don't 
want my only daughter to be hurt -- to be degraded by some ... some ..." 
Her emotions obviously were getting the better of her.
     There was a short pause before Aunt Margaret said, "Did you ever 
think ... that Sue might not be a virgin still?"
     "Margaret!  What a horrid thing to say!"
     "Well?"
     "Of course she is.  I'm positive she hasn't cheapened herself that 
way."
     There was another moment's silence, then Margaret said musingly, 
"Yes ... I suppose you're right.  She couldn't hide that from you.  She 
would have been in pain for days when it happened.  You would have 
known."
     She could listen to no more.  Why, oh why! did everyone have to 
conspire to ruin the most beautiful moment of her life, she thought.  
Why?  Her Mother and Aunt Margaret quibbling over her virginity -- 
discussing it as though Sue were some animal to be trained or doctored.  
Wasn't this something between her and Dick?  Was it anyone's business 
but hers?  She fought the impulse to run in and shout at them, fought 
another impulse to run up the stairs.  Instead, she forced herself to 
tip-toe quietly up to her bedroom.  There, hanging on the closet door 
like some ghostly figure mocking her, was her bridal gown and veil.  Sue 
reached out one trembling hand to the nylon mesh.  She shuddered at the 
feel of it.  Maybe, she thought in sudden dismay, I should call the 
whole thing off while there's still time.  But she knew that it was 
already too late.
     When she heard Aunt Margaret and her mother's querulous voice in 
the hall forty minutes later, she pretended as if she were asleep.  Her 
door opened and the two women whispered in the darkness.  Her mother 
said, "She must have come in while we were in the kitchen and not wanted 
to bother us."
     Sue felt someone standing next to the bed.  Then Aunt Margaret's 
soft voice said, "Look at her ... the poor child.  Sleeping so 
innocently.  For the last time."
     Her mother's sniffle was the only answer.
     That night was spent with Sue's body as rigid as a railroad tie.  
She tried to sleep, but it was an impossible task.  When she glanced at 
the luminous hand of her watch, it was three o'clock, and she thought: 
Only twelve hours more.
     When dawn finally came, Sue was slumped dejectedly in a chair in 
front of the window, and was thinking that she still had nine hours in 
which to extricate herself from the trap of marriage.  Sounds began in 
the kitchen a short time later as her mother and Aunt Margaret began the 
day's activities.
     Breakfast -- unwanted and tasteless -- followed a shower, then Mary 
Corona arrived to do Sue's hair.  Sue woodenly answered everyone's 
questions and made light conversation with the hairdresser.  And during 
it all, she was thinking: Still three hours to call it off.
     Then, with a flourish, Mrs. Martini arrived to assist with the 
wedding gown; she was followed moments later by the first two 
bridesmaids.
     And, abruptly, all of the sands had run out.  It was time!  Sue had 
absolutely no cognizance of being taken to the church; in many respects 
it was like a condemned man spending his last hours before taking that 
long last walk.
     She heard organ music.  She was walking -- because someone had told 
her to begin walking and had nudged her.  She saw a sea of smiling 
faces.  She saw Dick's face, strained and smiling at her from the altar.  
She saw the bridesmaids in front of her scatter out like brilliantly 
colored petals of flowers unfolding.
     A face: the minister?  "Do you accept this man ..."
     Her nod and voice from a million miles off, "I do ..."
     "Do you accept this woman ..."
     And Dick's voice -- hoarse -- answering ...
     "I now pronounce you ..." The strident roar of the organ, the 
brilliant blindness of the sunlight outside the chapel ... the flash of 
the photographer's camera.  The sting of thrown rice ... the shouted 
congratulations and, from a couple of the junior high school kids who 
had been invited, "You'll be sorr-eeee." The reception line -- a never-
ending line of faces and kisses and mouths uttering words she couldn't 
comprehend.  The cutting of the cake.  Everything all blur.  Then Mrs. 
Martini again -- removing her gown -- helping her dress in a new tweed 
suit for travelling.  A corsage being pinned to her coat.
     Then Dick again ... meeting her in the hallway of the second floor 
outside her bedrooms ... holding her.  A shout as the reception guests 
saw them.  A mad dash down the front stairs to Dick's car all painted 
with signs.  The car door slamming.  People shouting gleefully.  The 
sound of Dick's car starting, the screech of his tires as he attempted 
to elude the jokers who wanted to follow with horns blaring.
     And the last -- the very last -- view of her house.  Mother, and 
Aunt Margaret ... like two dark accusing angels of doom, standing there 
silently -- not waving ... merely watching as the car drove off ... an 
expression of grief on her mother's face ...
     She began weeping.
     Dick patted her hand.  "Okay?" he asked solicitously.
     "Yes," she lied, through a muffled handkerchief, "I'm just happy."
     "This time tomorrow, we'll be in Ireland.  And tomorrow night we'll 
be at the castle."
     So full of dread was Sue at the thought of this first night 
stretching in front of her that she didn't respond to his excitement.
     "Just think of it," he continued eagerly.  "Two weeks of doing 
nothing but lying in the sun and swimming all day and making loving all 
night."
     "Yes, darling.  It will be lots of fun," she said, not believing 
her own statement.  The fright was beginning to boil up in her again.
     Sue became more tense -- more silent -- with each passing mile as 
they drew closer to the international airport hotel where they would 
stay tonight prior to boarding the plane early tomorrow morning.  She 
tried to purge her mother's voice from her mind, but it came creeping 
back like a freezing bone--numbing fog.  "Dear God," she prayed 
silently, "don't let me be like mother and Aunt Margaret.  Don't make it 
repulsive or painful ..." The dread, however, continued to raise in her.  
She was close to tears when they checked into the motel.  The manager 
almost seemed to smirk at her when he led the way to their suite.  
Inside, there was a bottle of champagne on ice -- courtesy of the owner 
-- and inscribed, "To the honeymooners".
     Almost frantic now with fear and nervousness, Sue pressed the 
manager to stay for a "toast." She didn't want to be left alone with 
Dick.
     The manager merely smiled and said, "Oh, no!  The champagne is just 
for the two of you lovebirds.  Congratulations to you both.  Have a 
goodnight."
     The door clicked behind him, and the nightmare began.  Dick tried 
to take her in his arms, but She reflexively put both hands against his 
chest and pushed back.  "What's wrong?" he asked genuinely perplexed.
     "Nothing," she lied.  "Just a splitting headache ... I'll take an 
aspirin and be all right in a little while.  Maybe you should take a 
shower?"
     He looked concerned.  "Is there anything I can do?"
     "No.  It'll go away.  Take a shower."
     Dick grinned in mistaken understanding.  "Ah ... I bet I know.  You 
want to get rid of me while you change your clothes ... and get into 
something more ... ah ... comfortable." He wriggled his eyebrows.
     Sue anxiously seized the remark.  "Yes!  yes, darling!"
     "All right.  One shower coming up." Dick laughed and took off his 
coat.  He opened the suitcase and brought out a new pair of blue silk 
pajamas.  He held them up for her inspection.  "Pretty sexy, eh?  Just 
wait until you see them on me." He kissed her passionately, then 
disappeared into the bathroom.  A moment later, she heard the water 
being run and his voice raised in song.
     Quickly, she removed her clothes and slipped into the white 
peignoir purchased for the honeymoon.  She caught a glimpse of herself 
in the mirror, and she blushed in shame.  When she had tried the 
negligee on in the store she had been wearing panties under it.  Now, 
however, it clearly showed the small dark triangle of her pubic hair and 
the brown nipples of her breasts.  She opened the bed, climbed in, and 
pulled the covers up around her throat.  Two minutes later Dick, 
somewhat flustered, came out of the bathroom.  The reason for his 
chagrin was plainly evident; the front of his p.j. bottom bulged out as 
though he had a huge banana protruding from between his legs.
     "It must be something they put in the soap," he said, making a 
feeble joke.
     Sue did not laugh; she cringed deeper into the bed.  Although she 
had felt his penis through his trousers before and although he had 
touched her with it before, never -- not in her wildest imaginations -- 
had she conceived it was as big as it seemed to be.  Through the pajamas 
it appeared to be at least twice as large as Petey's had been.
     Now she knew what her mother had been trying to say; no woman's 
body could safely take that huge bulging staff.  It would split her 
apart like a Parker House roll.  She whimpered when Dick came alongside 
the bed.  That ... that thing was only inches away from her head as he 
turned out the light.  Then she felt the covers being pulled back and 
Dick's body and his huge male organ of destruction pressing against her 
side.  Without preliminaries, he kissed her -- possessively at first and 
then with rapidly increasing passion.  She responded only perfunctorily 
when he tried to shove his tongue down her throat.
     Dick drew back from her.  He leaned over on one elbow, "What's 
wrong, darling?" he asked.
     "Nothing," the word was said so softly it was almost inaudible as 
she lay there transfixed with fright.
     "Are you nervous?"
     She leapt at the remark as though it were a life ring.  Perhaps if 
she admitted to it, he would leave her alone tonight.  So she said, "Yes 
... terribly nervous."
     Dick laughed.  "Well, then.  We'll just have to take care of that 
nervousness.  I've got just the thing to remove nervous strain.  Leave 
everything to me." He kissed her neck and his hot wet tongue traced a 
design down to the top of her gown.  She felt his hands pull down the 
straps of her gown, then he began caressing her bare breasts.  She felt 
nothing except the fearing pounding within her heart.  He bent forward 
and glued his lips to the left breast, and his teeth playfully bit and 
teased the nipple.  Soon his hands moved like conquerors across her taut 
belly and sought the hem of her gown.  He pulled it up so her loins were 
naked and open to him.  Slowly, using his middle finger, he began moving 
it between her thighs and up and down across the length of her vaginal 
lips.  There was none of the excitement she had felt the night at the 
beach ... none of the beauty and none of the fire.  Only numbness -- a 
deadening absence of sensation.  Sue quivered in fright, and Dick took 
the motion to mean that she was shivering in excitement.  "Like that," 
he asked, not waiting for an answer.  He tweaked her clitoris.  She felt 
nothing, could feel nothing.  It was as though her body now was 
elsewhere.  Her husband was fondling a wax statue.
     Then Dick suddenly rose up in bed.  She felt him struggling with 
his pajamas.  He removed his top ... then kicked the bottoms out of bed 
where they lay in a heap on the floor.  When he stretched out full-
length beside her, she could feel the hair on his chest against her bare 
shoulder, his hairy legs against her smooth ones, and ... and that 
thing! which seemed hotter and larger than ever.
     She was absolutely cold with terror when Dick gently spread her 
legs apart.  Then he swung his legs over her thigh and put his knee 
between her legs.  A moment later he was hovering over her and kneeling 
between her legs.  Sue lay there, close to panic, trembling with a fear 
that Dick mistakenly accepted as desire.
     She felt him fumbling for a moment, then the head of his hardened 
penis was pressing against the still dry lips of her vagina.  When he 
touched her with it, it was as if someone had stuck a soldering iron 
against her bare unprotected skin.
     "Don't hurt me, Dick ... please.  Oh, God ... don't hurt me," she 
whimpered, trying to press herself into the mattress.
     Dick was breathing heavily and he did not answer.  He still reacted 
in a gentle fashion, however.  He slowly pushed forward, spreading the 
sparse young pubic hair and the head of his cock slipped into the 
virginal portals of her vagina.  She winced, "You're hurting me."
     He moved the head of his prick in and out between the red full lips 
of her vagina; he did not seek to penetrate, merely to lubricate it.  In 
spite of all her fear, Sue could feel a moistness beginning down there 
as her body responded automatically.  Perhaps, she thought, it will be 
all right, after all.
     Then, he began to really hurt her when he attempted to push it in 
even further between her thighs.  "No ... Dick ... Stop!" Dick stopped.  
And she repeated, "You're hurting me."
     It was then he said it.  She heard it and interpreted it as a 
confirmation of everything her mother had tried to warn her about.  He 
said, "It always hurts a little the first couple of times."
     "No, then.  I don't want to do it!" she whimpered.
     "Yes, you do," he insisted, and pressed his now heavily throbbing 
cock in a bit further.
     "No ... please." She felt as though he were already ripping her 
apart and he had only the head in -- what would happen when he tried to 
insert the other seven inches?
     Suddenly, Dick made one hard long thrusting motion.  "Gaaaaghhh," 
she screamed.  His hips fell heavily between her wide-spread thighs, and 
she was pinned like a helpless butterfly to the bed.
     "No ... God!  No," she cried aloud.  "Help me ..." The words simply 
goaded Dick on to almost a maniacal frenzy.  He shoved his pelvis hard 
into her squirming defenseless crotch ... seeking to reach that soft 
yielding belly that had been denied to him for over a year.  She was 
squealing like a stuck pig as his cock reached the hymen and ripped 
through it like tissue paper touched with a glowing red poker.  She 
splayed her legs out widely in the air in an effort to spread her cunt 
even wider -- seeking to ease the agony ... but it was hopeless.  The 
cruel impalement was killing her, and he still did not have it all the 
way in.  Down, down, down, ever deeper his rampaging cock ripped until 
she could feel the agonizing head of it finally coming to rest buried 
all the way to what seemed to be her navel.  His rigid fleshy column was 
there only a second; he didn't even give her a chance to adjust to it.  
His motions -- back and forth -- became a wild demented thing.  He 
pulled out, slammed it in -- seemingly attempting to drive it ever 
deeper into her tortured pain-filled belly.  Finally -- and it seemed an 
eternity, although it couldn't have been more than a minute or two 
later, she felt his prick begin to throb as the hot eager cum spurted 
from him and flooded her virginal womb.
     All in all, he came three more times before he finally pulled his 
penis from her vagina, before he stopped violating her body and went to 
sleep.  Each time he had grunted and groaned out his climax and she had 
felt it spurting inside her, it was more painful, more disgusting than 
the first.  Sue wept silently.  Her vagina was a throbbing nest of 
agony, and her silent desperate screams echoed through her mind and she 
saw her mother's tightly pressed lips saying, "See ... I tried to tell 
you."
     At dawn the phone rang.  Sue, who had not slept, wearily reached 
over to the bedside table and answered.  The hotel switchboard operator 
cheerfully sang, "Good morning.  It's five-thirty."
     "Thank you," Sue said, without feeling.
     Beside her, Dick stirred and groaned.  "Whasszit?" he mumbled.
     "Five-thirty," Sue answered.  "The airport limousine leaves at 
seven.  I'll take my shower first, if you like."
     Dick cocked one eye at her and made a sleepy effort to grin lewdly.  
"Why don't we both shower together?"
     "No ..." she shook her head.  "No."
     He shrugged.  "Okay, you take yours first."  He rolled over on his 
side and was asleep again before she could answer.
     Sue got out of bed, wincing at the painful tenderness in her 
abdomen.  Her belly actually felt as if someone had repeatedly kicked 
her there.  She felt as if she had been cut open in the crotch, as if a 
stripped corncob had been shoved in there.  When she looked down at the 
sheet, she saw it was matted over a large area with brown blood and 
dried semen.  Wide-eyed in horror, and with the room swirling around 
her, she gazed at her new peignoir.  There was blood and sperm all over 
it -- front, back, hemline and bodice.  She ran for the bathroom, put 
her head into the toilet bowl, and vomited.  When she took off her gown 
later, she had blood and semen all over her legs and in her pubic hair 
and on her stomach and buttocks.  It looked as though she had been 
wallowing in a slaughterhouse trough.
     She used almost an entire bar of soap cleaning herself, but it did 
no good.  She still felt dirty ... degraded.
     When she got out of the shower and began towelling herself, she 
noticed that the blood had begun, to seep again from her injured womb.



                               Chapter 4

     Dick wheeled the rental car around a curve on the side of a hill 
and saw the castle down below on the shores of a rather large, blue 
pear-shaped lake.  The sight looked like something seen on a travel 
poster.  He glanced over to see if Sue had awakened yet, but she slept 
on.  The poor kid, he thought; she had said she hadn't been able to 
sleep at all for the last three nights.  He put it down to bridal 
nerves, just as he put down her coldness and reluctance to participate 
in the sex act to nerves.  She had slept the sleep of the dead on the 
five-hour flight over -- not even waking for supper.
     Gently, he reached out and shook her awake.  "Sue, we're here."
     She came awake slowly, her mind swimming reluctantly to the surface 
of consciousness.  Then she remembered and abruptly sat upright.  Her 
muscles ached and her entire body felt as if she had been drugged.  Dick 
was smiling at her, and suddenly she felt a great wave of tenderness and 
love go out to him.  Now that she had had some rest, she was once more 
determined to make him a good wife.  She loved him.  That and the 
knowledge that he loved her would be enough for her.  She would permit 
him sex -- as much sex as he wanted -- and she hoped and prayed that he 
would never know how much pain he was bringing her each time he invaded 
her body.  When they returned home, she would quietly go to a doctor and 
get some suppositories to make her numb down there, something to deaden 
the nerves.
     Impulsively, she bent over and kissed his cheek.
     Dick nodded his head toward the window.  "The castle," he said.
     Sue took a deep breath when she saw the lake.  At the far end, a 
small sailboat was a dot of white against a blue and green canvas.  
Smooth, green rolling hills came down to the water's edge on the other 
side.  It was a land for long hikes, of walking hand in hand, and 
communing with nature.  Below her, the castle looked as if it had come 
out of another time period; which, of course, it had.  There was a small 
dock and a large white sandy beach.
     Oh, Dick, darling.  It's so beautiful."  This sight alone had made 
the journey worthwhile, she thought.
     Dick grinned at Sue's animation.  It was the first time since 
before the wedding that she had seemed her old self -- happy, vivacious, 
and affectionate.  Last night at the hotel, he had moments when he felt 
as if he were raping a stranger.  He simply didn't understand it.  Hell, 
after he had made love to her the fourth time, he had been able to sleep 
like a baby.  Yet, apparently, she hadn't slept at all.  And she hadn't 
cum, either, even thought he had prolonged his lovemaking in an effort 
to get her there.  When he thought about, she was the first woman -- out 
of the dozens he had had -- that he hadn't been able to build up to a 
rip-roaring climax.  But, of course, she was his first virgin ... and 
maybe virgins react differently, he thought.
     The car swept down the hill, across a small stone bridge, and 
reached the level.  Two large Irish wolfhounds met them at the wrought-
iron gate.  The dogs, barking furiously, ran alongside the car until 
they reached the front of the castle.
     Up close, the U-shaped structure looked larger than it had from a 
distance.  Counting the crenelated roof, behind which archers had once 
crouched , it had four stories.  The open part of the "U" faced the 
lake.
     The dogs stopped barking and sat on their haunches, gazing 
expectantly at Dick and Sue, staring at the couple almost as if asking, 
"Well, aren't you going to get out?"
     Dick stepped out of the car and was scratching one of the dogs 
behind the ear when he saw the woman coming toward them.  Tall, full-
breasted, black hair cut short, and wearing a long red and grey striped 
hostess gown that accentuated her splendid mature figure, she smiled and 
waved in greeting.  In one arm, she carried a large bouquet of long 
stemmed yellow roses.  A wide generous mouth, smouldering passionate 
black eyes with heavy black eyebrows, and the rich tan indicated more 
than a little Latin blood in her veins.  Dick thought with some delight 
and an instinctive tightening in his groin: My God, what a sexy woman!  
And Sue, with considerable envy, felt almost childlike opposite her.
     "Hallo," she said warmly.  "I'm Nora Morgan.  You must be Dick and 
Sue Bennett."  Her voice was melodic and deep, with just a hint of Irish 
in it.
     "We are," Sue answered, smiling timidly at her.
     "These are for you, Sue," Nora said, holding out the roses.  Then 
she held out her hand to Dick.  "Hello ... welcome to Castle Fleur," she 
said again, shaking hands with him.  Her grip was especially strong for 
a woman, and she had a disconcerting way of looking at a man ... gazing 
right at him with such intensity that Dick felt as if he were drowning 
in her eyes.  And, even though he was on his honeymoon, Dick knew with a 
sudden guilty feeling that he would like nothing better than to have 
those long legs wrapped around his buttocks, those breasts straining 
against his chest, and those full lips tightened back against her teeth 
in lust ... as he pounded his hardened cock into her steaming pussy.
     Nora's lower lip dropped almost imperceptibly as if she knew what 
be was thinking.  Then she turned to Sue.  "You must be weary after your 
long journey.  Come, I'll take you to your room so you can freshen up." 
When Dick started to grab the bags, she shook her head.  "No ... leave 
them," she ordered.  "I'll have one of the boys bring them up to you."
     Dick watched the two women walking in front of him; it was not a 
good comparison.  Nora obviously was all woman -- and very very sure of 
herself.  The long hostess gown covered her limbs, but if her legs were 
like the rest of her -- arms, breasts, hips -- then they would be 
perfect too.  Sue?  Well, Sue had every bit as good a figure -- not 
quite as tall, but offsetting this was her undeniable femininity, a sort 
of helplessness that made a male want to protect her.  Actually, aside 
from colouring and height, the main difference between the two women lay 
in their projected sensuality and poise.  Sue seemed almost adolescently 
self-conscious as she walked next to Nora, and if Dick had been able to 
read Sue's mind at that very moment he would have realized just how 
inferior his wife felt.
     Nora led them to a spacious, expensively decorated room on the 
third floor.  Large picture windows looked out over the lake and distant 
hills.  "This is your sitting room," Nora said.  "Wood for the fireplace 
is in the box there." She opened a connecting door.  "This is your 
bedroom.  I'm sure you'll find it comfortable." There was a big king-
sized bed under a blue and white striped canopy.  She indicated another 
door, "And the shower ..." The shower, Dick noted, was large enough for 
three people; it had an overhead nozzle and two fine spray nozzles which 
shot a stream of water midriff -- front and back.  Dick couldn't help 
thinking, "What a great play pen." Something must have shown on his 
face, because Nora dimpled and Sue blushed.
     "Dr. Morgan and I would like you to be our guests for cocktails 
before dinner this evening," Nora said.
     Sue glanced at Dick, who replied, "That's very kind of you, Mrs. 
Morgan."
     "You must call me Nora.  And Dr. Morgan shall insist that you call 
him Tom."
     "All right, Nora," Dick said.  "What time?"
     "Well ... let's see.  You're the only guests we have at the moment.  
Lord Medwell and Lady Margaret will be checking in tomorrow; then we 
have another young American couple due in on Thursday.  So we can be 
flexible about dinner time tonight.  An hour from now?"
     Sue felt grimy after the flight and car trip.  She said, "I would 
like to take a shower, and change into something else."
     Nora was immediately apologetic.  "Of course, my dear.  How 
thoughtless of me.  I'll have your bags brought up at once." She glanced 
at her watch.  "It's five thirty now.  Shall we say seven thirtish?"
     Neither Sue nor Dick were prepared for Dr. Morgan when they met him 
two hours later.  He had a stern military bearing about him which was 
deceptive, for he turned out to be just as warm and friendly as Nora.  
And, as his wife had said, he did insist on being called 'Tom'.  He was 
at least two inches taller than Dick's six feet, and weighed in the 
neighborhood of 220 pounds -- and it was a lean 220 pounds at that.  A 
grey mustache cut a thin line across his lips.  All in all, Sue thought 
as she stared at him in open admiration, he cuts a dashing figure ... 
like something out of a liquor ad or a suspense film about Scotland 
Yard.  He, like his wife, exuded an animallike sensuality.  Side by 
side, the Morgan couple definitely would be attention-getters, even in a 
crowd of sophisticates.
     Dick and Sue both felt at ease with them during cocktails in the 
huge library.  This was surprising in view of the fact that Nora was in 
her mid thirties and Tom probably in his middle or late forties.
     From the library, they went to the baronial hall-like dining room 
where the four of them were served by a dour and silent old Irish maid.  
It was not until the final course that Sue got around to asking, "What 
kind of a doctor are you, Tom?"
     "A retired one," he said, smiling mysteriously as he held up his 
wine glass to the candlelight and inspected its contents.
     Nora said, "Tom!  Don't tease." She turned to Sue and said, "He was 
a gynecologist -- a very successful and famous one, I might add."
     Tom snorted as though enjoying a private joke and a look of warning 
was flashed by his wife.  As brief as it was, it sufficed, for the man 
came back to his winning ways again.  "All sorts of rich ladies with all 
sorts of rich ladies problems." He shrugged and laughed.  "A very 
lucrative profession.  I made enough in ten years to refurbish the 
family castle.  And here I am."
     Nora commented, "Actually Tom is much too modest.  He has a great 
many other talents.  Right now he's doing some very important research 
on ESP."
     "ESP?" Sue asked.
     "Extra sensory perception," Nora explained.
     Tom, who was rolling a fork back and forth between his thumb and 
forefinger, looked up and said, "It's mainly a hobby -- something to 
keep me busy -- although the government is interested in the 
experiments.  I believe that ESP can be enhanced by putting a person in 
a light hypnotic state; then we place someone very close to this person 
in another room and attempt to establish communication between the two."
     Dick, whose eyes had widened, said unbelievingly, "You mean mental 
telepathy?"
     Tom nodded, and smiled.  "I can understand your doubt.  I'd be 
incredulous myself if I hadn't received proof that it seems to work ... 
at least with some people."
     Sue was sitting there engrossed, in rapt attention.  This was the 
most fascinating thing she had ever listened to in her life.
     Nora said casually, "Why not try the basic experiment tonight, 
using Dick and Sue?  Let them see for themselves."
     "Oh, could we?" Sue blurted out.
     Dick added quickly, "That would be one sure way of making a 
believer out of me.
     Morgan shook his head and frowned.  "No ... I don't think it's ..."
     Sue interrupted, pleading in a little girl's voice, "Please?"
     Nora laughed, "You've piqued their curiosity, Tom.  You won't be a 
good host unless you show them how it works."
     Morgan glanced from Dick to Sue and then over to Nora.  He pursed 
his lips and said, with considerable reluctance in his voice, "I 
generally need more time to get to know my subjects better." He looked 
thoughtful, then nodded, "All right.  Let's try it anyway.  It may not 
work, but ..." he held out his hands, palms up, and smiled, "we'll see."
     Sue was feeling slightly apprehensive when she followed the Morgans 
into the library.  She had never been hypnotized before; it would be a 
novel experience ... and a little frightening.  Dick, now that he had 
shot off his mouth, was suffering some qualms also.
     Morgan moved a large maroon leather chair out into the center of 
the room and then turned a rheostat in the wall until the lights dimmed.  
A switch was pushed and a thin beam shone down from a spotlight on the 
beamed ceiling.  "Sue, you sit here." Soft harp and flute music floated 
out of hidden stereo speakers.
     Shivering with suppressed excitement, Sue did as she was told.  
With considerable ceremony, Morgan took down a black leather box from 
the mantel.  He opened it and brought out into the light a green pear-
shaped amulet on a gold chain.  Then he removed a sealed white envelope 
and handed it to Dick.  "These are your test messages.  So you won't 
think it's some kind of a trick, I would like Sue to give you three 
numbers between one and twenty before you leave this room.  You will 
read and follow the directions opposite each of the numbers.  For 
example, if she said 'four, eighteen and twenty', you would read 
paragraph four -- where it says you are to concentrate on an image of a 
cow chewing grass.  Paragraphs eighteen and twenty are, of course, on 
different subjects.  Understand?"
     Dick nodded.  Nora took his arm and said, "Come on.  Our station is 
in the waiting room across the hall." Dick was all too aware of her hand 
on his arm; her presence up close was a tangible thing, and the musky 
scent of her perfume was as elusive as a night bird's call.
     "Wait!" Morgan ordered.  "You don't have your numbers." He turned 
to the girl, "All right, Sue."
     She pooched out her lips in thought, then blinked and smiled.  
"Three, seven and ... ah ... fourteen."
     As Nora lead him out of the room, Dick found his eyes fastened on 
the pendant dangling from Morgan's hand.  He would like to have remained 
and see Sue go under, but obviously that was not part of the experiment.
     When they got to the waiting room, Nora reached in front of him to 
open the massive door.  The bodice of her crepe dinner gown gaped open 
and Dick saw -- with an immediate feeling of hunger -- that she was not 
wearing a bra for those magnificent breasts.  Quickly, he forced his 
eyes away.  He thought Nora looked amused.  "Sit here," she said, 
motioning to the couch.  He sat, as ordered.  Nora seated herself beside 
him and handed over the envelope to be opened.  "Three, seven and 
fourteen," she said.
     Dick ripped the envelope open and withdrew several typewritten 
sheets of paper.
     "Do you mind if I read over your shoulder?" Nora asked, and the 
perfume of her breath was almost an aphrodisiac of its own.  She didn't 
wait for permission, but slid right over until their bodies were 
touching.  The heat of her thigh was like a blow torch there.  Dick 
swallowed; he could feel desire for this woman beginning to boil up in 
him.  He wondered, for about the twentieth time since their first 
meeting, how she would be in bed ... how it would feel to have his 
hardened cock buried deep inside those glorious loins.  Nora leaned 
forward in order to see the paper better, and once again her gown gaped.  
Seemingly without thinking, she put her hand on his knee.  Her lips were 
only inches away as she began to read aloud, "Number Three: You are to 
think of a train.  The cars will flash past you and you will concentrate 
on the windows and the faces of people inside the car.  A close relative 
of the subject being communicated with should be one of the faces you 
concentrate on ... a mother, father, sister, but not yourself." Nora 
remained in close after she had finished reading; Dick could feel her 
left breast against his upper arm.  "Christ," he said to himself, "how 
can I concentrate with those tits.  Nora had better watch it or I'm 
going to make a grab for her ... that'll really fuck up the honeymoon."
     His voice was hoarse and uncertain when he asked, "How long does it 
take to hypnotize her?"
     Nora drew back just a bit.  "Only seconds if she's susceptible.  
Many people can't be hypnotized, however.  In that case, Tom will 
probably want to hypnotize you instead of Sue."
     In the library, Morgan was just completing his incantation as he 
swung the glowing amulet in front of the girl's glazed and unseeing 
eyes.  "You are so drowsy ... so sleepy ... you cannot keep your eyes 
open.  Sleep ... sleep ... sleep." Sue's head fell to her chest.  Morgan 
dropped the pendant back into the box and then withdrew a needle, which 
he pricked against the girl's shapely right buttock.  She did not stir.  
Satisfied, he said, "Sue ... can you bear me?"
     "Yes ..."
     "Sue ... at two o'clock tomorrow morning, you will awaken to find 
your husband getting into bed with you.  It may look like me ... but it 
will be your husband.  Do you understand?"
     "It will be my husband."
     "Yes, it will be your husband.  Now, when I count to ten, you will 
begin to wake up.  You will not remember being hypnotized; hypnosis did 
not work with you.  You will recall nothing.  One, two, three ... seven, 
eight ..." He snapped his fingers, and Sue's eyes blinked open.
     Sue had felt that she couldn't be hypnotized, now as she sat in the 
chair waiting for Dr. Morgan to try, she was positive it would not work.  
Morgan pulled up a stool in front of her; he held up the pendant and 
began swaying it to and fro in front of her eyes.  "You are getting 
sleepy," he said.
     Sue giggled.  It was an involuntary thing, quickly suppressed.  
Morgan gave her a mock frown.  "You must be serious about this, young 
lady, or I won't be able to hypnotize you."
     She was immediately contrite.  "I'm sorry, Tom.  It's just that I 
don't think I'm going to be a good subject."
     "Well, we'll see," Morgan said professionally, and went back to his 
incantations.  Sue listened to him, she attempted to concentrate on what 
he said, but she didn't get sleepy at all.  Finally, even Tom admitted 
that she was a difficult subject.  He stood and sighed in dejection, 
"Maybe we should try Dick.  If I can put him under, you can serve as the 
communicator."
     Dick was reluctant to be a guinea pig; however, when he saw the 
disappointment on Sue's face and the mocking expression on Nora's, he 
decided to go along with the gag.  "I won't fight you," he told Tom, 
"but I don't really think you can do it."
     Morgan merely shrugged.  "It's possible I can't.  Your wife wasn't 
susceptible to hypnosis." He laughed.  "I almost put myself to sleep."
     Morgan adjusted the spotlight beam for Dick's added height and 
withdrew the pendant again, "Now watch the jewel as it swings ... back 
and forth ... back ... and forth ... in front of you.  Keep your eyes on 
it, Dick ... concentrate on it as it swings ... back and forth ... See 
how the light seems to glow from deep within ..."
     Two minutes later, Morgan stood with an evil smirk on his face.  
"You silly young blithering ass.  Can't hypnotize you ... hah!"  He 
jabbed the needle into Dick's calf; the boy did not move.  "All right, 
Dick.  At two o'clock tomorrow morning, you will get out of bed and walk 
down the hallway to the end, turn left and walk to the end of that 
hallway, then you are to go through the open door on the right.  You 
will get into bed with your wife; you will want to please her in 
whatever way you can.  You will do exactly what she asks -- everything 
she asks.  It will be your wife ... although it may look like Nora ... 
it will be your wife.  Do you understand?"
     "I will do anything my wife wants ... it will be my wife."
     "Yes, it will be your wife.  Now when I count to ten, you will 
begin to wake up.  You will not remember being hypnotized; hypnosis did 
not work with you.  One, two, three ..."
     Dick was having a difficult time keeping a straight face as he 
waited for Morgan to try to hypnotize him.  He was sure it wouldn't 
work, and he felt amusement -- even pity -- as Morgan picked up that 
cheap pendant and began swaying it in front of his eyes.  Really, he 
thought, it was just like something from the movies during the early 
thirties.  "Boy," he said to himself, "how cornball can you get?"
     Half an hour later, after the final brandy of the evening, Dick and 
Sue were still feeling somewhat guilty about the fact that Morgan had 
been unable to hypnotize either one of them.  Both secretively felt, 
however, that it was because they had such strong will power.
     "Goodnight ... goodnight, thank you for a lovely evening ... it was 
a pleasure ... goodnight ..."
     Dick and Sue climbed the three flights to their room.  When Dick 
kissed her and pulled her toward the big couch in front of the 
fireplace, Sue suddenly felt the earlier gaiety and happiness of the 
evening evaporate.  It was, she thought, time for sex.  Oh, how she 
hated that word ... disgusting, degrading ... pain-filled and terrible.  
She would have to let him do it to her once, and when or if he tried to 
do it twice, she would tell him that she was much too sore.  He would 
understand, she thought.
     Downstairs, a lewdly grinning Tom and Nora Morgan held up brandy 
snifters in a toast.  "Here's to a good double fuck," Morgan said.
     The catlike glow in Nora's eyes abruptly became an all-consuming 
flame.  "To a very good fuck," she said, "for us both!" She laughed 
shrilly.  "I can hardly wait." And she repeated a statement she had made 
earlier to him.  "My God!  Did you see the size of his cock when he 
stepped out of the shower!  Mammoth.  Beautiful!" She gritted her teeth 
as she visualized once again the two of them looking through the 
bathroom's one-way mirror at the boy as he unsuspectingly towelled 
himself dry.
     "I thought the girl had the finest little ass I've seen in years," 
Morgan said thoughtfully.
     "Yes, you bugger you," Nora said cattily, digging her elbow into 
his ribs, "you would notice that!  Well, everyone to their own tastes."
     "You are being a bit of a bitch," Tom said, but it was said with 
affection.
     Nora laughed gaily.  "To a good fuck," she said again, downing the 
rest of the brandy.



                               Chapter 5

     Sue abruptly came awake; it was as though a switch had been thrown 
in her body.  She was fully aware of everything ... the moonlight 
streaming in through the windows, the fading echoes of the clock 
downstairs striking two, the breathing of the man who stood beside the 
bed.
     Perhaps it was the moonlight that made everything seem as though it 
were happening in a dream, that her mind was elsewhere -- confined to 
limbo.
     "Sue?" Even Dick's voice seemed different, accented.
     She turned and looked up at him.  In the unreal light he seemed 
taller, older than Dick.  He looked like someone she knew ... but the 
vaporous quality of the moment refused to solidify.  "This man is your 
husband," a voice in her brain whispered.
     "Yes ... Dick."
     "Good, you're awake." The covers were pulled back and the figure 
slid into bed with her.  She felt his body move in next to hers; then 
that body was pressing nakedly and urgently against her side.  With a 
sudden tightening of her muscles and a feeling of despair, Sue realized 
Dick had an erection and was probably going to try to make love to her 
again.  Against her hip, his penis felt different -- considerably 
smaller, but hard!
     "Are you all right?" she asked, knowing full well what he wanted.
     Dick laughed; he sounded so very different, but her mind kept 
saying, "This is your husband."
     His voice said, "Well, darling.  I'm not really all right.  I have 
this problem which only you can take care of." He moved his penis 
suggestively up and down against her side.
     "Dick, I don't think I can do it again tonight.  I'm much too sore.  
It's so painful."
     "Then we shall simply have to do it another way, won't we, pet?" He 
had taken her chin in his hand and turned her face toward him.  His 
breath had a vaguely exciting hot brandy smell as his lips kissed her 
eyes closed.  His hot wet tongue sought out her ear; she stiffened as it 
shot into the cavity like a small darting fish seeking shelter.  The 
sensation, though strange, was definitely erotic.  Dick had never kissed 
her this way before!  Then his tongue was in her mouth, tracing wild 
abandoned designs against her teeth and inner folds of her lips.  This, 
too, was exciting in a way it had never been before.  She began 
responding eagerly; once, when her tongue hit his upper lip, she 
thought: How strange ... Dick has grown a mustache.
     "You wonderful creature," he said, just as his hands began moving 
all over her body.  He went first to the flushed bulbs of her breasts, 
and each individual pore of his fingers seemed to be minute vacuums 
tugging at her flesh.  He tongue-kissed her again, then his lips 
fastened -- gently sucking -- at a place where her gracefully sloping 
neck muscles joined the top of the shoulder.  A tingle of excitement 
arched along the muscles.  He moved her elbow out from the body and his 
mouth moved down until it was licking and kissing the sensitive flesh on 
the inner arm and armpit.  A moment later, slowly and tantalizingly, his 
lips kissed their way to the left breast.  She felt him there at her 
nipple, like a thirsty person sucking juice from luscious fruit.  Not 
once, in his gentleness, did he hurt her.
     As his teeth teased sensuously at her nipples and his knowing hands 
kneaded the flesh of her buttocks, Sue suddenly realized that her body 
was rea