Chapter 4
The large array of clothing that Vincent provided was enough to drive Karen to new heights of elation, but she noted that very little of it was for partying or street wear. Mostly it consisted of pretty things to wear while lounging around the mansion and walking in the spacious garden. And much of it was frilly, colorful lingerie. Fuck-clothes.
She found Vincent more than bearable as the days progressed, although his lovemaking became more demanding after the first week. Not that she exactly understood what was perverse and what wasn't perverse when it came to fucking activities. It was just that some things didn't seem quite normal. Like Vincent wanting to tongue-fuck her all the time.
Karen admitted that she had grown fond of being tongue-fucked, but it was the other little things that disturbed her. Vincent was always rubbing his long stiff cock-meat all over her body, sometimes much too intimately. Not that she didn't think it was beautiful to look at, but... well, once he had put it between her tit-mounds and had drawn the globes around the thick cock.
She'd laughed at first, and then she'd just looked at him, not knowing what to do. Vincent had suddenly grunted and had shot off between her tits. She hadn't exactly appreciated having his cock-cream in such an odd place.
All in all, she supposed the one thing that bothered her most was that Vincent never brought any work home from the office. It did not take her long to realize that she was not truly an employee, but a fuck-mate for Vincent. As Billy Denim had said, she was dumb.
She thought about walking out, but she was helpless without money. Anyway, Vincent was good to her. He offered her a security she had never known before. And when he fucked her, she felt so good all over that she couldn't bear the thought of leaving him. It was difficult to admit to herself, but she knew that she was becoming as wild over sex as Vincent.
Another week passed, and Karen had not yet made a definite decision. She did know that immorality ran rampant in the mansion and that she was becoming more trapped by her own fuck-need with each passing day. How did one escape from something from which one did not really wish to escape? She could not answer her own question.
It was Monday, and she heard Torne talking to someone at the front door. His voice was stern, and he was obviously denying the visitor entrance.
Karen approached and she could see that Torne was talking to a young girl not much older than herself.
"You better get on your way, Miss Becky," Torne said. "Mr. Kingston won't like it if he comes home and finds you here. I reckon it's about time for him now."
"Don't you think I know all about Vincent's schedule, Torne?" Becky asked, smirking. "He won't be back until late this evening."
Torne continued to block her way. "You better leave anyway, Miss Becky."
"Are you going to throw me out, Torne?" She took a cautious step forward.
Torne stood his ground.
"Maybe if I'd be real good to you, Torne," she said.
"Good?"
"You know," she said huskily. "Let you put your hands on my tits and feel me up a little Would that satisfy you, Torne?"
Torne went silent.
Becky laughed. "Have you ever fucked a white girl, Torne?"
"You got no cause to say things like that," Torne protested. "I never once tried to put a hand on you while you was here."
"I know, Torne," she said softly. "But I saw the way you looked at me. Like you wanted to eat me alive. Like a girl-eating cannibal, hungry for white flesh."
"Just go, Miss Becky," Torne said coldly. He extended his huge palms. "These hands can do more than feel you up. They can crush the life outta you."
Karen intervened. "Let her come in, Torne," she said. "She means no harm."
"You don't know her, Miss Karen," Torne protested.
"Please, Torne."
"You better let well enough alone, Missy," Torne said to Karen. "You better not talk to her."
But he stepped aside and shuffled off.
"Shit," Becky breathed as she entered the living room. "He always gave me the creeps. I used to wonder what would happen to me if he really got cunt-hungry while Vincent was away. I used to wake up nights, expecting to find him hovering over my bed like a big vulture, grasping his enormous prick... "
Karen didn't care for the girl's all-too-vivid imagination. "You used to live here?" she asked abruptly.
"You might say that I warmed Vincent's bed until he decided he wanted a new girl," Becky said bitterly. "But don't mind me. Actually, I was curious to see what my replacement looked like." Her eyes swept up and down Karen's figure. "Well, you do have nice tits."
Karen flushed. "Thank... you."
"Vincent always was one for tits," Becky said. "Always acted as if his mother had never bothered to wean him."
"Just why did you come by?" Karen asked. "Not really to see me, I know."
"No, I couldn't care less what you look like." Becky grimaced. "I suppose that I wanted to warn you."
"Warn me?"
"About Vincent," Becky said. "Vincent treats you like shit when he's through with you. But the bad thing is--you can't get him out of your system. I guess every woman is a whore at heart, if the right man comes along to teach her. Do you know that I've fucked with every boy who asked me since I left here, hoping to find one that could make me feel the same way Vincent did?"
"How did Vincent make you feel?" Karen asked. She was beginning to wish she had allowed Torne to throw the girl out.
"Like I was the only girl in the whole universe and he was the only man," Becky said. "Just blending it all together in one big sex-crazed body. Doesn't he make you feel the same way?"
"I... I've never really given it much thought," Karen said, turning and walking away.
"Maybe he's not really got his claws into you yet," Becky said. "Well, if he hasn't, you'd better get out before the poison gets in."
"I'm not afraid of him," Karen said. "He's been very good to me."
"That's the point, you dumb bitch." Becky hissed. "He showers you with kindness, he wins you over bit by bit. All the while, he's creeping up on you, taking control of your body.
Before you know it, you're a damned zombie. Just a pretty body with no mind. You'll do whatever he says, no matter how distasteful it seems. And then you'll grow to love everything he does to you!"
Karen whirled to face her would-be benefactress. "Torne was right. You had better leave."
"Wait... "
"Get out!"
"All right!" Becky shouted. "I'll go. But when you find yourself gagging on his flesh, or wasting away in the pink room, don't say you weren't warned!"
She turned to go, then paused with a smile frozen on her lips. "And keep your eyes on that big buck, in case he gets a yen for your sweet ass. He's hung like Goliath."
Karen was left deeply disturbed by Becky's visit. She could not forget the blonde's washed-out face or the lines of bitterness around her once-pretty mouth. She did not know why the girl hated Vincent with such passion, and she searched the mansion, hoping to extract the secret from Torne, but he could not be found.
When Vincent arrived home that evening, he poured himself two fingers of Scotch and studied the strangely silent Karen. She had her nose buried in a rare handbound book of poems she'd found in the library.
"Quite valuable, that volume," he said. "Do you know that it was given to me by my old professor at the university? Left it to me in his will. Southern authors. All of them."
"Some of the poems make me want to cry," Karen said. "There's one about this girl who was cast out by her lover... "
Vincent took the hint. "Something's bothering you, Karen. What is it?"
"You never bring any work home for me to do," she said.
"It's more than that," Vincent said. "Out with it." His whisky was untouched.
"Do you know a girl named Becky?" she asked. Vincent flushed. "Who told you about Becky?"
"She came by today."
"You talked to the little bitch?" Vincent growled. "Yes."
"I suppose she told you some wild tale about me?"
He looked so angry that Karen wished that she had not mentioned the girl's visit. "She said she used to live here."
"A maid. Just a maid." Vincent downed the Scotch and grimaced. "What else did she tell you?"
"She told me I had better keep an eye on Torne."
Vincent laughed. He was obviously relieved that Becky had not completely exposed him. "Don't worry about Torne," he said. "He worships the ground I walk on. He'd cut his own balls out before he'd touch you."
Karen coughed and looked embarrassed.
"Anything else you want clarified about this Becky?" Vincent asked. "Let's get it all out in the open while we're talking about it."
"Did you fuck her, Vincent?"
"Hell, yes," he said. "I fucked her. Don't most rich men fuck their maids?"
Karen put the book aside and stood up. "Could I have a drink?"
He grinned and poured one for her. "Just a little," he said. "I hate making love to a drunk bitch."
"Are we going to make love now, Vincent?" Karen drank the whisky and it warmed her belly and eased her worry.
"Don't we always, as soon as I come home?" he asked. "Or don't you want to?"
"Yes, Vincent," she said softly. "I want to." She desperately needed reassurance, and only his body could give it to her.
"Then go upstairs and put on something pretty and sexy," he said. "Something I like.
Perhaps something blue?"
She smiled and went toward the stairs, then paused briefly on the first step. "Vincent?"
"Yes?"
"Where is the pink room?" Vincent shrugged. "Never heard of such a place."
"Becky mentioned it," she said. "So did Torne."
"Everybody has gone nuts around here," he said. "Have you seen a pink room in the house?"
"No."
"Then it must not exist." Vincent chuckled.
"Unless Billy Denim has painted the inside of the cottage pink."
The mention of Billy Denim ended the conversation. Karen hurried up the stairs.
She undressed in her own room. When she was naked, she ran her hands over her breasts, trying to create a desire that she didn't feel. The whisky had warmed her belly but the heat had proceeded no further. She felt tense between her legs. Her ass-cheeks were hard in silent resistance to what was coming. The specter of Becky hung over the room.
Karen stood before the full-length mirror. She was not vain about her body, but it had grown more voluptuous since she had come to the mansion. Vincent's lovemaking had done something for her, if only in her imagination. Her titties were fuller, the nipples a healthy glowing pink. Her stomach was a bit more rounded, the pussy-mound more developed, the thick dark curls more profuse. Vincent was not making her a zombie. He was turning her into a sensuous, full-bodied woman.
She was suddenly relaxed. The warmth was spreading now, into her genitals, buttocks and breasts. She went to the bureau and took out the thin blue negligee. Vincent especially liked it because it covered her body like an almost invisible veil. It was there and yet it wasn't. Everything showed through.
She tied it at the neck with a tiny bow. An inch of flesh showed through from the valley of her breasts to the beginning of her pussy-mound. She smiled to herself, then went down the hallway and climbed into the king-size bed in Vincent's room.
Vincent entered the room. She couldn't help staring. She didn't know where he had shed his clothing, but he was already naked. His prick was dangling against his balls, bloated and thick, but not at all hard. He sat on the edge of the bed and ran his finger from the bow at her neck down the narrow strip of pink flesh. He paused at her furry mound and tickled beneath the thick curls. She giggled.
Vincent looked down at his prick. "Sometimes," he drawled, "I feel a little dissipated."
"Maybe you're tired of me," Karen joked.
"Hardly," he said with a faint smile. "It's just that I have a need for variety. That little something extra to give me a jolt."
"Would it help if I touched your prick?" She cautiously reached across his thigh and caressed the hot, soft mass just behind the glans. His cock stiffened somewhat but not considerably. "I just don't know how, I guess," she said.
"You will in time," Vincent said. "There are ways and there are other ways." He leaned across her body and undid the bow. And then he pushed the negligee to either side of her breasts and hips.
Karen arched her breasts, thinking he was going to kiss them as he eased over her. She opened her legs to him, but he surprised her by pushing them flat against the bed between his knees.
He was sitting high on her thighs, his cock protruding just across her pussy-mound. The swollen glans burned against her lower belly. Vincent gripped the half-hard shaft and dragged his prick back and forth between her hips. All the while he was inching higher and soon she could feel his cock-knob caressing just above her navel.
Although she didn't like what he was doing, she didn't protest, but she was once again remembering what had happened the last time he had climbed high on her body. Just slowly creeping up on her until his thick stalk lay between her tits. It hadn't really been that horrible, she supposed, but it had been messy, him coming between her tits that way and getting his cock-juice all over her. And she hadn't gotten even the slightest thrill from the obscene act.
She encouraged him to do something else. "It's getting stiff, Vincent, try to put it in me now."
Vincent ignored her. He kept inching along her flesh. He had a weird look in his eyes-like he had been gripped by some new obsession she didn't know about. Actually, she couldn't think of anything that he hadn't already tried.
She squirmed a little. Vincent's big vermilion cock-knob had edged into the lower valley of her tit-flesh. He cupped the globes and pressed them against his cock-head. And then he began to make a small fucking motion into the warm crevice formed by her tits. Karen didn't exactly feel thrilled, but she saw that her nipples had become erect of their own accord. They were tingling and she wished that Vincent would take his prick away and kiss them.
Suddenly he let her breasts fall away from his thick cock-shaft. It throbbed and jumped between her tits. "It... it's hard now, Vincent," she whispered. "And... I want it. I'm getting all wet between my legs." She expected him to come at any moment, and when he did his cock-juice would shower all over her upper body, maybe even into her face. "My pussy's so hot, honey," she whispered, being more bold. "Oh, hurry and put it in me."
Vincent seemed determined to do otherwise. He lifted his buttocks and she felt his balls dragging across her breasts. And then his cock-head was touching her slender throat. She swallowed nervously, "Vincent, what are you trying to do?"
He gripped his cock-meat and drew the heated glans back and forth beneath her chin. His knob was, in fact, just an inch or so from her lower lip. Her lip trembled and she tried to pull her chin higher, but the hot red knob followed. "Vincent... "
"Don't be afraid," he said. "Stick your tongue out and tickle my cock."
"What?"
"Kiss it."
Her eyes questioned him.
"Kiss it," he said. "Kiss it like I kiss your nipples."
"You mean put my mouth on it?"
"Yes."
"I... can't, Vincent. I've never done anything like that before."
He looked displeased. "You can do anything if you set your mind to it, Karen."
She turned her face to one side, away from his threatening cock. "Please don't make me, Vincent."
"Nobody is going to make you do anything, Karen," he said, trying to soothe her. "Just try it a moment. If you don't find it enjoyable, we'll call the whole thing off." He rested on his left hip, pushing his cock-end at her mouth from another angle. She put her hands before her face, and he tore them away with a curse. "Damnit, Karen. Do it. Do it now!"
"You're hurting me, Vincent," she cried. "Stop squeezing my titties."
"Take it." His glans brushed hotly across her mouth.
"Mmmmfff!" She drew her lips against her teeth in protest.
"Do you want to go back to your father, Karen?" he snapped. "Once he discovers you've lost your virginity, you won't be able to keep him out of your cunt."
"I'm not going back!"
"Do you want to lose your job and all your pretty clothing?"
"I... " His prick was very large. Karen's eyes traveled down the long thick shaft to his hairy groin.
She was trying not to look at his glans. His cock came at her in a crimson blur and she felt it jam against her teeth. Her lips gave way. His prick was so hard that her lips were being bruised by the relentless display of force.
"N... mmmmm... glaaaah!" Karen was startled to find his cock-head inside her mouth.
For some crazy reason she remembered what Becky had said. When you find yourself choking on his flesh...
Karen shuddered. The unbelievable was true. It was happening to her. She tried to push her tongue under his cock-head and force it away. Vincent reacted by driving his rod deeper into her twitching throat. "Glaaaaah!" She almost strangled.
Vincent's eyes were brimming with mad lust. "Damnit. Suck it!"
"Mmmm... uhhhh... I can't," she gurgled around his mouth-filling prick.
"The first time I've asked you to do a little something for me and you refuse," Vincent groaned. "No... gratitude."
Her tongue wiggled against his glans as she spoke. "I... mmm... hate it."
"Uhhh," he said. "You little bitch. Ill make you love it!"
He reached behind him and began to caress her belly. And then he rubbed lovingly at her cunt-mound before pushing a finger between her cunt-lips and searching out her clit.
"Oh, baby!" she breathed.
She began to succumb. The practiced movement of his fingers was exquisite. Her thoughts were drawn from the prick that filled her mouth to the activity between her outstretched legs. She whimpered softly. Vincent's thumb was jammed against her love- flesh and he was threading the next finger into her cunt. He wiggled it about in her pussy- hole, frigging her clit simultaneously.
"Vincent... love," she whined. "Oh, God! Heaven! Uhhh!" Her mouth flew open in surprise as he jammed another finger against her asshole.
His prick fell away from her lips.
"Take it," Vincent gritted. "Take my cock back in your mouth!" Slowly, he ground the finger into her puckered asshole up to the second joint.
Karen squealed with delight. "God. God. God, Vincent! Frig me. Put all your fingers inside me!"
The triple sensations ran head-on with an erotic crash. She was eyeing his cock again.
Suddenly, his big fat cock-head looked delicious. She grasped his shaft, enveloped the throbbing knob with her lips and began a mad, uncontrollable sucking.
"That's it!" Vincent groaned. "Ah, my pretty little... uhhhh... Karen!"
Karen's thoughts were made hazy by lust. The girl, Becky, had simply tried to frighten her, wanting to get even with Vincent for throwing her out. What Vincent was doing to her at the moment was wonderful, and what she was doing to him was even more wonderful. His fingers were moving everywhere. Her clit, her pussy, her asshole. The sensations were so lovely as to be unbearable. She bordered on a new kind of ecstasy. One that was even better than just plain fucking.
"I... mmmmm!" Her lips tightened around his cock-shaft. Her fine white teeth gnawed tenderly on it. His cock-head surged against her tongue. She began to suck it like an experienced whore. She wanted to draw all of his big, sweet rod down her throat, even it she strangled on it. "Baby, baby, baby," she gurgled. "Ahhhhh. Oh, I'm coming!"
Karen felt as if she were coming from her cunt and her asshole. Her come-fluid gushed around Vincent's pussy-clutching fingers. She drooled wetly around his prick, and, driven by the supreme hunger, managed to draw another inch of it into her mouth.
The big knob jerked against her tongue. The hot, profuse jets of cum filled her mouth to overflowing, and yet she did not attempt to release his cock-shaft. Vincent sounded as if her were crying for joy. Karen sobbed happily as he forced the remainder of one finger into her asshole. "Uhhhhh." She came again, abruptly and thoroughly.
She was still quivering in the throes of her last orgasm when it came to her attention that her mouth was filled with his cock-juice. She pondered on what was the proper thing to do with it. She swallowed strongly. It was like warm honey going down her throat.