There was something about Mrs. Keele deciding to use Ken as a chauffeur that hadn't set at all well with Jean Wilson, but there was little she or her young husband could do about it, she realized. Mr. Keele had brought the uniform down to the kitchen while Jean was preparing the beautiful superintendent's breakfast, ordering Ken, who sat at the table having his coffee, to get into it, that his wife intended to use him in that, as well as other capacities.
It was the way he had said it, in an almost lewd tone of voice, that had upset Jean, but she hadn't let on to Ken who was angry enough in his own right at what he insisted was the "undressing" way the Director of Correction had looked at her. Of course, she had noticed and felt the big man's flinty eyes raking over her, but for some reason the act hadn't bothered her too much. Most girls were used to the lecherous glances of older men, passing them off as harmless gestures of wishful thinking; besides, Max Keele had a position to maintain and she doubted that he was about to gamble with that but his severely striking wife, she was another story!
All the same, Jean knew there was nothing she could do about it and decided to keep her uneasy feelings to herself, secretly watching out the window to see her husband drive off in one of the limousines with Mrs. Keele and her dog, Kappy, sitting regally in the back seat.
A morbid feeling of aloneness crept over her at that moment and she turned from the window with tiny tears puddling into her wide green eyes. Lord, it seemed that all she'd done the past two days was cloud up and cry, but she just couldn't seem to help herself; it was all so miserably unfair. If they'd actually committed some criminal offense…!
Perhaps if she went to Chief Lannigan and pleaded with him… made him realize that they knew nothing about the marijuana Nick had on him…? The robust police official had seemed so kind and understanding, actually such a jovial man… and she'd been certain he intended to let them go before Mr. Keele arrived… Then, what had happened and why? Could it be that this was the way the Keeles acquired free domestic help to serve them and maintain this elaborate home? But that was ridiculous with all the girls they had in the detention home not five hundred yards away…
Oh, it was all too confusing… too terribly, terribly confusing, and her head was beginning to pound in frustration. She had to get a hold of herself and gear her mind to the grim idea that three months more of the same lay before them. Perhaps this was already going to be the test of their love and marriage… their frowned upon marriage that her parents had forbidden and she had willfully ignored. There was no turning back… no Daddy to call upon for help this time… only the handsome-homely boy whom she loved so much… and together they would work it out! Yes! They would; she felt confident of it, but she must do her part too… and at the moment, her end was the cleaning and straightening up of the house according to the list of printed instructions Mrs. Keele had given her.
Jean found a Kleenex in her tiny uniform apron pocket and used it, then raised her firm little chin courageously in determination. She would think no more of the gloomy or upsetting aspects of their situation… but only of the brighter side, such as the fact that at least she was with her lover-husband, and that they could be alone together at night to make beautiful love… and perhaps that very night to come it would happen… that moment of splendor she had almost reached not so many hours before…!
Max Keele was more than pleased with his new secretary, Carol Heath, not only in her capable efficiency, but the twenty-two-year-old strawberry blonde possessed a face and body worthy of constant admiration, her shapely, miniskirted thighs and calves doing much to brighten up his ancient somber office. Her husband, Jack, had been a needed addition to his staff, also, but not exactly for the same reasons. He'd needed another competent parole officer and the twenty-six-year-old man, like his luscious wife, had come to him with impressive credentials from their last positions in the state capital.
Of course, it was going to take a little feeling out before he made any suggestive passes at the luscious doll, Max thought, sitting behind his huge desk in the executive swivel chair and watching her through his opened doorway as she typed with skillful, rapid fingers. But for some reason that he hadn't totally fathomed yet, he'd formed the opinion that she was not only a delectable, curvaceous doll with breathtaking, bountiful tits, but that she was ambitious for both herself and her husband to get ahead, and would be willing to pay the going price to achieve those ends.
Characteristically, Max's lecherous grin crept over his big handsome face. He was thinking that he already knew the price, in fact, had discussed it and her good-looking husband that very morning in bed with Maggie, immediately piquing his enchantress wife's prurient interest. He chuckled to himself as he thought of that and how Maggie intended to drop by the office that morning to have a look-see. Actually, he'd been holding the Heath's back, both until he was more certain of his convictions, and until they'd had their fill of the tender morsels decorating their servants' quarters.
Christ, that little blonde Wilson bitch was an enticing creature, too, with a young face and body that could set him off just thinking about her. Memory flashes of the way she had wantonly fucked her stupid husband the night before in an effort to cum had flickered through his mind all morning, keeping his heavy cock in a constant state of semi-hardness that watching Carol Heath only added to. But he wasn't quite sure of the Heath broad as yet, and she would keep nicely while he scored with the Wilson doll, which he would be doing right at that moment if it weren't for the Parole Board meeting he was scheduled for shortly.
Anyway, he liked to let his anticipation build… his lust for a particular cunt ferment until it was gnawing at his groin, and Maggie was the same. They seemed to get almost as much out of the building conquest as they did the trigging seduction or rape itself. Damn, Maggie was his counterpart all right, a beautiful and sexually enchanting woman… but ruthlessly ambitious, too, which was why he put her in her place every so often, such as the night before with that teenaged little fireball.
Christ, she'd been something else again… the way she'd sucked his cock! He'd really intended to fuck her, but once she'd clamped that soft, sweet mouth on the end of his prick he'd known that was it all the way. And then, her wildness in accepting Kappy's raging animal-cock…
His intercom buzzed, interrupting his thoughts. "Yes?" he said, writhing in his chair to fit his hardened shaft of flesh into a more comfortable position.
"Judge McGraw is on the line, Mr. Keele… line one," Carol Heath informed in her throaty voice.
"All right, I'll take it," he said, watching her through the opened doorway as he spoke. "Hello, Judge. How are you?"
"A… A little strung out at the moment, Max… Can you help me?" the thin, aged voice half-whispered.
"Sure, of course, Judge. Be right over. You at the office?"
"Y-Yes. You… you won't be long, Max…?"
"Only a minute," the Director of Correction answered with a knowing grin. The poor old bastard, he thought, twenty years on the stuff…
"Oh… before I forget it, the meeting of the Spaxtons…?" the wheezy voice questioned.
"Tomorrow night, Frank… in my rumpus room as always, oh?"
"Sure… I just wanted to be right on the day, you know, my calendar is so filled…"
"I understand, Judge," Max replied, grinning to himself. The poor bastard was so burnt out on "H" that he hardly knew his own name, but he was still an essential fixture in his own organization and probably the easiest one he had to manipulate. Besides, the poor old has-been liked to eat pussy, and the younger the better…
"You'll be right over, then?"
"Right away, Frank… just hold tight…"
Carol Heath watched her ruggedly handsome boss leave the office, in fact, couldn't deny the little sensation of excitement that had rippled through her when he'd chucked her beneath the chin. God, he was an overwhelming man… but that wasn't quite the thing to tell her husband, Jack, she thought with a smile as she rolled new paper into her typewriter.
There was something devastating, over powering about him that left her a little bit weak… yes, maybe even desirous, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was all he appeared male-wise to be. God, Jack would throttle her if he ever even imagined what she was thinking, she realized, racing her hands over the keys of the electric machine… but then, Jack didn't… would never know, would he.
She forced her brain to concentrate on the issues at hand. There were forms she had to have ready for his afternoon meeting. Yet the word, Spaxtons re-echoed in her mind. She had been purposely slow on returning her phone to the cradle and heard the judge's words. This was the organization, the powerful circle that made the difference in one's standing locally… with Max Keele! Neither she nor Jack were oblivious to its existence, nor the ultimate ends that could be gained by being a member, even knowing, or having heard rumors, of its sexual costs. The fact was that they had left the capital for no other reason but to gain entrance into the underground social club… where lawyers became judges overnight, and men were chosen as gubernatorial nominees… and women-girls pleased sensually, members only to be fulfilled wholly, regardless of their weird male or feminine quirks…!