Jean was openly frightened when she discovered that Max Keele had arrived home in her absence. He walked into the kitchen as she entered through the service entrance, a glowering look of suspicion clouding his big, handsome face. Like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, Jean gaped up at him, suddenly remembering the bag of groceries in her arms that she had bought, heeding Chief Lannigan's advice.
"Where've you been?" the director shot at her, his flinty eyes gleaming warily.
It was then that she noticed the glass and its contents in his huge hand. The smell of whiskey came to her. "Groc-Grocery shopping," she stammered, sensing her knees beginning to jell.
"And who told you to take that upon yourself?"
"W-Why… no one… b-but there were things we… we were out of M-Mr. Keele," Jean lied, the blood in her veins seeming to abruptly turn cold. "I-I thought…"
"Never mind what you thought, girl," he interrupted, his expression softening somewhat. "You're not to leave this house without my, or Mrs. Keele's permission… understand?"
"Y-Yes, sir."
He smiled then, his whole attitude appearing to change as he stood there. Finally, he said: "Put down the groceries and come with me, dear… I want to show you something."
Though she was still trembling from head to toe, Jean breathed an inner sigh of relief; he had accepted her lame excuse and walked to the swinging door leading into the rest of the house. She realized then that he was standing there waiting for her, holding the door inward for her to follow. Hesitantly, she set the bag of groceries on the table and walked past him through the opening, pausing there for his instructions.
"Upstairs, to the rumpus room," he said evenly. "I want to show you something. Go ahead."
A further hollowness crept into Jean's belly at the mention of the third-floor den, but she tried not to let him see it and obediently ascended the carpeted stairway before him, their trek carried out in verbal silence while she tried to reason what he could possibly want to show her up there…!
Max let his eyes feast lecherously on the shapely, arched roundness of her young hips and buttocks, the fullness of her exposed, nylon-covered thighs and luscious calves as she climbed the stairs in front of him, mentally praising Maggie for her choice brevity in mini-uniform selection. His enchantress wife knew well how to keep his libido stimulated… If only she weren't so Goddamned ambitious for power in her own right, she be the perfect mate, but sometimes he felt that he hardly dare turn his back on her… Hell, enough of those thoughts for the present; there were other more immediate things that required his attention…
He grinned lewdly to himself and drained his glass as he walked along the hallway behind her, following her into the great room and closing the door behind him… hearing the lock tumbler falling securely into place.
Jean, too, heard that decisive clicking sound and a new tightness constricted her belly. She stopped short in the room, turning quickly to face him. He smiled. "You were in here earlier," he said, walking past her toward the bar.
"Y-Yes… Mrs. Keele ordered me to clean the room," Jean replied nervously, her wide, green eyes following his broad back until he was behind the bar and facing her again. He was still half-grinning as he set about making himself a drink, "S-She said you were h-holding a party tomorrow night and wanted everything in proper order…"
"Did she tell you anything about not tampering with the TVs?" Max questioned in a soft, meaningful voice.
Once again, Jean sensed the icing of her bloodstream. My God, she had evidently forgotten to turn off the set… and he'd discovered it! Now, he knew that she was aware of the screen's lurid use! She couldn't speak… only stood there petrified gaping at him, while he continued to grin at her.
"Would you like a drink to brace your nerves, baby?" he invited calmly, leaning forward on the bar, his glass in his hand.
Numbly, Jean shook her head in the negative, struggling for the proper words that might help temper her situation. "I-I didn't mean to pry… didn't know…"
"But now you do, don't you, dear," Max said, suddenly moving around the bar toward her. "You've learned one of our little secrets, and are wondering the whys of it… so, I'll tell you that, too…"
Jean felt as if her legs were made of stone, immobile, and she stood there awe-stricken as his massiveness closed in on her, his empty hand reaching out to take her small, trembling one inside it possessively. He went on, his handsome face above her own, his lewdly suggestive eyes gleaming down at her: "We like the stimulation of playing voyeurs… watching the girls in their lesbian acts… even watching you and your punk-husband fuck! Nothing can do more for your sex drive, baby, than being an audience to a doll with a luscious body like yours squirming and writhing on the end of a hard fucking cock, trying to make it and being left high and dry when he blows his nuts in your hot screaming little pussy before you can cum…!"
"Oh! Oh my God…!" Jean gasped in horror at the shocking filth spewing from his half-grinning lips, not only his use of the lewd words, but the shameful, graphic meaning behind them! She had been right! They'd watched Ken and her making love in the suppose privacy of their room… had even noted her unfulfilled frustration…! Dear Lord! She had to get out of there… away from this terrible man and his evil house…!
Desperately, she tried to jerk her hand free as tears of shame and rage streamed down her cheeks, but his huge, powerful hand was like a vise clutching her own. She struggled with him, knocking the glass from his hand to shatter on the floor, even knowing it was useless as she remembered the locked door, but in her panic she could think of nothing else but being free of his bestial touch, and abruptly, she sank her sharp teeth into the hairy flesh of his imprisoning hand.
"You little bitch!" Max roared, jerking his hand away to brutally grasp her arm, then with the other open one he slapped her hard, knocking her backward and down onto a davenport. She started to get up again, but as he raised his hand once more, decided against it, slumping helplessly and burying her sobbing face in her hands. "Okay… that's better, baby," he said, breathing heavily as he examined the teeth marks she'd left in his flesh. He'd caught her just in time, before she could break the skin with those white little fangs of hers, but still it hurt like hell. The vicious little cunt! She'd pay for that. "Now, let's get back to the matter at hand, shall we? We can either be friends, which'll make it easier on you… or enemies, and I'll rape you! It's up to you, doll. Either way, I'm going to fuck you shitless right here this very afternoon…!"
Jean's head swam from the force of his stinging blow, but the terrifying repugnance his loathsome proposition sent nauseously sweeping through her was far more staggering than if he had beat her senseless! She could only gape up at him in sickened panic!
"M-My God… no… you wouldn't!" she heard herself groan feebly. "Please… oh God… please let me go…!"
"Don't be ridiculous, baby," Max replied with a leer. "It boils right down to this… if that punk-husband of yours can fuck my wife, then I can fuck his… and that's exactly what I intend to do… after you've taken a look at the video tape I'm going to show you." He walked to the large TV set and began to manipulate knobs, while she stared at him in further confused abhorrence at his nightmarish lie, her whirling brain searching frantically for any avenue of escape…! "I'm only sorry that there's no audio portion… but they say a picture's worth a thousand words… well, we'll see…"
And she did, her wide green eyes locking on the colored screen in traumatic fascination as Mrs. Keele's totally naked body, spread open lewdly on a bed, composed the picture, her salaciously exposed genitals and hips writhing obscenely, as if in licentious anticipation before the unrecognizable man who back Jean could only partially see! He held a drink in his hand as he obviously ogled the beautiful, sensual nakedness before him… and then, she saw the raven-haired woman's lips move as her sparkling dark eyes seemed to glaze, and the man began to pull at his own clothing…!
He came fully into the picture at that point, and with mind-shattering dismay, Jean saw that it actually was her husband, Ken!
"Oh no… no… noooooo!" she moaned weakly, watching him shed every stitch, until at last he stood as naked as the vixen on the bed, his hardened penis thrusting out from his lean, hairy loins lustfully, his terrible intentions obvious!
Max Keele watched the teenaged blonde doll he had quietly sat down beside with sadistic delight. He had already witnessed the replay once and preferred to focus his attentions on the shocked reactions of the wronged little wife, his lecherous desire beginning to rapidly mount as he let his eyes play over the delightful charms of her youth. Christ, what a ravishing fuck she was going to be once he stuffed his growing hard cock into that tight little blonde-haired cunt of hers…
She groaned out and covered her mouth with her hands suddenly, causing him to look toward the screen and see Maggie holding Wilson's cock in her hand, then licking its head before sucking damned near the full length of it into her educated mouth. He couldn't help but grin obscenely at both the lewd spectacle on the screen, and the expression of disbelieving horror on Jean Wilson's face, the latter sending evil sensations of sadistic lust charging through his groin…
A certain numbness of mind and body had crept over Jean, seeming to render her helpless as she stared in repugnance at the wicked, heart-breaking performance unfolding before her very eyes. Dear God, dear God… how could he do such a thing to her? Her brain repeated the unanswerable question time and again as she watched through tear-filled eyes her new husband's illicit lovemaking to the very wife of the man who sat next to her. She couldn't believe it when he cradled himself between her thighs and took his penis in his hand, finally thrusting it deep into the beautiful older woman's receptively open vagina, the painful, but stimulating sight instigating tiny erotic sensations in her own loins, almost as if he were pressing it into her… where it belonged…
"I'll have to admit, the kid does have a sizable cock there," Jean heard the big man comment luridly, suddenly aware that his huge arm was around her shoulders, his hand caressing her upper arm gently. "Frankly, I hate like hell to throw the book at the young bastard, but he's got to learn that he can't run around fucking other men's wives without paying the piper…"
Jean looked at him pleadingly. "Oh please… please don't do anymore to hurt us…?"
"Hurt you? Christ, baby, what are you talking about?" he questioned as if stunned by her remark. "I tried only to help you both from the beginning… kept Judge McGraw from sending you up to cool your heels, and this is the thanks I get… your husband fucks my wife and you bite me! Some thanks…"
Jean shook her head in utter confusion, trying to keep her eyes from the terrible spectacle taking place on the TV screen, while her mind worked desperately to function with intelligence. Somehow, she felt certain that Mrs. Keele had coerced Ken into the horrible act. How, she had no idea, but he would have an explanation, and she had to keep faith… they loved each other too much! Yet, simultaneously, she reasoned that she must keep this evil man from taking out his vengeance on her young husband… keep him pacified until Chief Lannigan could act… and dear God, the massive brute had already made it known what he expected! But no… no! She could never go through with that! There had to be another way…!
"Where do you think you're going?" he questioned, his hand gripped her upper arm as she started to rise from the couch.
"I-I was going to pick up those pieces of glass on the floor…"
"Never mind, they'll keep, baby… I won't," he said, his flinty eyes raking over her hungrily. "Now, you sit right here while I make us both a nice soothing drink, then we'll discuss the situation sensibly, eh?"
Jean leaned slowly back against the davenport, but rigidly so, the idea of something to brace her nerves not exactly repulsive to her.
Max grinned, patted her on the knee and arose, walking to the TV set. "You seen enough of this affair," he asked back over his broad shoulder.
"Yes… God, yes…!"
He chuckled and turned it off, while a nervous tremor rippled over Jean's nerve-wracked young body. Dear Lord, what was going to happen next? She couldn't afford to do anything foolish that might hurt their chances before Chief Lannigan cleaned up the whole sordid mess, but neither could she just wantonly give herself up to his horrible demands… and then he was coming back carrying two glasses of a milkish appearing concoction…
"Absinthe, Jean, baby… great for what ails you," he said, handing one to her and dropping down beside her once more. "So, cheers," he said in raised toast.
She nodded, half responding, then lifted the glass to her lips, tasting carefully and finding its licorice flavor pleasing, taking a second, deeper draught that immediately began to warm her stomach. She sensed his big arm moving up behind her on the rim of the couch once more and twisted on the cushion to face him.
"Y-You won't do anything to Ken… will you?"
The big, handsome man smiled. "Like I said much earlier. doll, that depends on you. I'm a great believer in an eye for an eye… and that husband of yours deserves to have both of his plucked out! But… if you cooperate, I'll show mercy…"
"A-And… and if I don't?" Jean ventured courageously.
"Then… you both lose all the way around," he replied, his eyes narrowing lecherously. "I'll fuck the shit out of you anyway… and Mr. Ken Wilson will go to the galleys! It's your choice, baby… like I also said before."
"Oh… oh please… and will you stop using those horrible, filthy four-letter words!" she whimpered, trembling once more. Dear God, she just couldn't… couldn't submit her body to him…! Suddenly, she tilted the glass to her lips and drained it, holding to the back of the sofa, then abruptly tried to gain her feet once more. His arm went over her, not touching her, but barring her way. Slowly, she lowered her trembling hand to the exposed nylon-encased flesh of her thigh and his larger one came down to cover it. Her heart bolted at his unabashed aggression, seeming to surge upward right into her throat. She gaped at him breathlessly, then squirmed backwards, working herself into the corner of the seat. He smiled, not unhandsomely, but those lecherous lights were dancing in his flinty eyes to frighten her.
"You're a very luscious and desirable little girl, Jean, baby," he spoke softly. "I'm just sorry I had to be the one to show you that tape, but you would've found out sooner or later, anyway. Those episodes always come to light… though, maybe you ought to thank me for letting you know what kind of an adulterous punk you're married to before it's too late," he went on, his hot hand caressing her own tenderly.
"No… no, Ken's not an adulterous punk!" she snapped in his defense, the full impact of the salacious sequence of scenes coming back to her. "I don't know how it came to happen, but I'm sure it wasn't my husband's fault. He loves me too much! I'm certain of that!"
"Well… I'll say you're loyal, anyway, little girl," Max said, his own drinks warming him into a mellow mood that made him momentarily feel as charming as he did lecherous. Nevertheless, the latter emotion, as always, predominated, and he smiled while the licentious gleam flamed brighter in his eyes.
"A helpless tremor rippled through Jean as she felt his hand move brazenly to the bowl of her tense belly, smoothing suggestively before slipping around her waist while he inched closer to her, until his big, handsome face was mere inches from her own. But what amazed her more was that the touch of his hand and its generating warmth through the material of her maid-uniform sent a strange, unwanted thrill spiraling upward along her spine. She fought it; she couldn't ignore the fact that she was definitely a married girl… and even though Ken, for whatever reasons, had violated their vows, she had no intentions of doing the same; but she still loved her darling husband and would stand beside him, regardless of anything he had done!
"Stop…! Please… oh please stop!" she insisted emphatically, writhing from his grasp and gaining her feet unsteadily. "No matter what has happened, I-I can't be a part of what you want! Please, I beg of you, let me go downstairs…?"
Max arose beside her, his features set in a determined expression. "You make it difficult, Jean, baby… but only for yourself and that gook you're married to! I told you how it was going to be… willingly, or unwillingly… but fuck all the way! It's going to happen, chick, but how is still your choice!"
Jean stiffened as if she'd been submerged in ice-water, the shocking fact that there was no escape finally reaching her! Her lovely little mouth fell loosely open and her striking eyes widened in utter disbelief, again his blatant use of the evil word knifing into her as she at last began to sense the measure of her helplessness against him. She sensed his hands slipping around her waist again and the strength of his powerful arms slowly but surely drawing her tight against him, those same hands moving blatantly down to encompass the round, full spheres of her buttocks. She felt the blood rushing to her face in the shame of his coarse hands moving intimately over her tensed, fear-cringing body.
"S-Stop! Oh God, stop it!" she pleaded desperately.
He hardly heard her as he ran his big hands over her lecherously, holding her within the imprisonment of his massive arms. "There's no escape, baby," he hissed down into her face. "I'm going to claim this proud little ass of yours… but I promise you one thing… you'll cum like a Roman fountain!"
She could only gape across the inches upward into his face as his teasing hands massaged and stroked her soft, sensuous young buttocks, pressing her tighter against the terrible rising bulge at his loins, while his words and promise taunted her brain in unavoidable desire.
Feebly, she struggled in his arms, as if to satisfy her own conscience, but in actuality she was helpless against his great strength, and slowly he lowered his head until his lips completely engulfed her soft, moist mouth, his hot tongue worming wetly beyond her teeth into the vainly resisting cavern beyond. He held her close, his large, hotly massaging hands ever-moving as they pressed into the round cheeks of her lush young buttocks to force her pelvis tighter against him, his height placing the throbbing bulge of his penis hard against the soft giving flesh of her belly, and an ungovernable tremor rippled over her.
God! Something unfathomable was happening inside her! She was actually experimenting little tremulous sensations of unwanted excitement to counteract those of shame and repulsion at his forced assault on her body, and although she offered limited spasmodic resistance, her mouth opened willingly to the pillage of his lewdly working tongue, and she relaxed against him as he drew her back down onto the couch, his large right hand completely engulfing her full, erectly throbbing breast, sending further electric-like tingle soaring licentiously through her!
"Oohhh… ooahhh!" she groaned, flustered, and he smiled arrogantly above her.
"Can't help yourself can you, baby?" he taunted lewdly, his hands roving over her exploringly. "It's the absinthe… it turns you on, little girl! The real McCoy made from wormwood… and I promise you, doll, you're going to love this!" he advised, leaning above her and teasing at her beautiful young face, using his tongue while she half-whimpered beneath him.
His words ricocheted against the walls of her stupefied brain as she tried to decipher their meaning. She was beset with overwhelming, unknown sensations. His hand, his tongue, his whole massive body was setting her aflame in a manner of desire she had never remotely dreamed of! Never… never before, not even with Ken, had she ever felt so overcome with raw, lustful craving! My God, she had to get some hold on herself! Was she losing her mentality entirely? That she could come to enjoy the lascivious caresses of this horrible and wicked man was beyond comprehension! Oh… oh Ken…! Please help me… please…?
And then, his huge hot hand was on her leg… her thigh… the soft, tingling inner flesh of her thigh… and she wanted it there! Oh Ken, darling… darling… forgive me… but it's so warm and big and gentle… moving upward… always upward… toward it…!
"You delicious little bitch, you!" Max Keele hissed down at her where she sat, receptive at last beside him, while his hungry, always working hand smoothed up and down the satiny flesh of her quivering leg, enjoying the feel of the nylon-encased flesh just before it ceded to the hot smooth nakedness of her velvety and vibrant thighs. He let it brush several times to the very peak, knowing it would instigate the sensation of contact as it pressed against the white, nylon strip of her panties, hiding her soft, sensitive young cunt… and it did, he was certain by her quivering reaction.
Jean groaned and responded spasmodically to each pressured touch against her now tingling vagina, her mind desperately fighting to seize control from her rapidly overpowering physical senses. Oooooh God! She had to put an end to this horrible degradation she was allowing herself to be subject to!
"No… no, Mr. Keele… oh please… please stop…?" she whimpered pathetically, her breaths quickened as she felt his fingers teasing at the snug elastic leg band of her panties. Yet, insane as it was, as she spoke her absinthe inspired passion won over and her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs opened to him uncontrollably, while her tongue trailed of its own volition across his triumphantly grinning lips, tiny mewls of helpless submission gurgling in her throat.
It happened then! She sensed his middle finger, insinuated under the crotch band of her panties now, tracing the thin, pink split of her naked young pussy and she squirmed her helplessly held buttocks beneath it! Her hands moved to his powerful shoulders, their long nails digging into the hard flesh through his clothes, and a minute sensation of repulsion swept through her even as prurient spasms of involuntary desire rippled through her loins and belly… while tauntingly, she could feel him part the sparse, silken pubic curls and worm his middle finger up between her traitorously opening little vaginal lips…!
"Oh God! Oh… oohhh Goddd!" Jean gasped in a helpless choking whisper. "Please don't make me do it, Mr. Keele… please don't…!