Chapter 7
Karen was lying on the living-room floor, stripped down to her bra and panties. Vincent had on a long smoking jacket with nothing beneath it.
She'd thought at first that he was going to settle down for an evening of drinking and television. Bit by bit his attention had turned to her, and he'd gradually managed to undress her. Her clothing was scattered around the room, where he'd robbed her body a piece at a time.
The smoking jacket was open and his hairy groin was exposed. For all the playing around, Vincent had achieved but a partial hard-on. It was one of his more difficult days. Karen wondered what he would dream up this time to give him the needed excitement for a full- blown erection.
Vincent nursed the pitiful hard-on, then knelt beside Karen. He kissed her belly, rested his face in her pungent crotch, then finally began to remove her panties. The doorbell rang.
"Damn," he said, jumping to his feet. "Who did Denim let through tonight?"
Karen sat up and pulled her panties back against her navel. She'd been rescued just in the nick of time.
"Just stay right where you are," Vincent ordered. "Ill get rid of whoever it is, even if I have to order Torne to throw them out!"
"We almost never have visitors," Karen said.
"That's the way I want it." Vincent gawked as he opened the door to a frowning Agatha Sims.
"Business, Mr. Kingston," the spinster said sharply.
"She insisted upon seeing you, sir," said Denim, who was standing beside her. The half- smirk on Denim's face turned to a frown when he saw Karen lying almost naked on the carpet.
Karen's eyes met Denim's. She felt sick, having him see her this way.
"What the hell are you looking at, Denim?" Vincent barked.
"Nothing... sir."
"Then get back to your post and don't open the gates to anyone else tonight. Miss Sims will be on her way shortly."
Denim wanted to smash Vincent's face in, snatch Karen up, and flee as Jack had fled with the golden goose, but he said, "Yes, sir," and left.
"Well, Agatha," Vincent said, turning to his office manager. "Is it so important that it couldn't have waited until tomorrow?"
"I'm afraid so." Agatha brushed past her employer and smiled triumphantly when she spotted Karen lying on the floor. "Ah, Vincent!" she exclaimed. "I always wondered why you never wanted to discuss business at night, even if the terminal was burning to the ground."
Karen overcame her shame long enough to meet Agatha's accusing stare. The woman was a green-eyed, red-haired shrew. Her figure was rather plump, but Karen imagined that she had been quite voluptuous in her younger days.
Agatha's thin lips shouted at her. "Well, you little bitch. Don't just lie there. Say something."
"I... " Karen stammered.
"Oh, shut up." Agatha turned her wrath on Vincent. "Not a day over eighteen, I'd say."
"I like 'em young, you hormoneless old bitch!" Vincent shouted, forgetting himself.
Agatha stiffened. "We've had a wonderful relationship, Vincent."
"Yes, if one likes neat file cabinets and gets his rocks off at the sound of a clicking typewriter," Vincent snapped.
"Don't you dare talk that way to me, Vincent Kingston!" Agatha screamed, losing her composure. "I'm not another one of your girls. And I'm something more than a company fixture. Your father and I... "
"My father had a taste for shit!" Vincent retorted.
"Oh my God," Agatha breathed, shocked to her very toes. "I've heard the stories, but I've never believed them. Your poor father would turn over in his grave if he could see you now."
"He was only interested in dollars," Vincent said. "I've kept the company profitable."
"He built the company on honesty and respectability," Agatha said. "Not on the sins of the flesh."
"My personal life is my own," Vincent argued. "I can't live the chaste life my father lived.
It's no go, Agatha. When I start doing my fucking at the office, you can complain." His eyes narrowed.
"Something brought you here tonight. What?"
"Or who?" Agatha said. She flung open the door and Becky walked in out of the darkness.
"Proof of your wild lifestyle, Vincent," Agatha said. "A previous protegee of yours."
"Well, Vincent," Becky crowed. "This unwanted exposure should change your way of living."
"Why. Becky?" Vincent asked, and then he shrugged. "You don't have to answer. You had to have your revenge, didn't you?"
"You treated me like shit, Vincent," Becky said, her eyes flashing hate for her former lover.
"Expose me. Put it on the radio. I don't give a damn," Vincent said. "It won't change- anything. Do you hear me, Agatha?"
Agatha's green eyes were stern. "Your father wasn't exactly a foolish man, Vincent. He had his doubts about you. All those girls you had trouble with in college. And the pretty little thing you got pregnant in high school. It cost him a bundle."
"So grieve, Agatha," Vincent said.
"You'll be the one to grieve," Agatha told him. "The voting stock is split three ways. Forty- nine percent to you. Forty-nine percent to the board of directors. And, dear arrogant Vincent, two percent to his beloved and dedicated secretary, Agatha Sims. You can find yourself looking for another job."
"Shit," Vincent said.
"The directors are all staunch, upright citizens," Agatha warned. "No girl friends."
"And no balls," Vincent said. "Most of them are too old to fuck."
Agatha took the obscenity without flinching. "But not too old to vote," she said. "Their forty- nine percent and my two percent puts you out. When I tell them what I saw here tonight, when I take Becky as my witness... "
"Oh, shut the fuck up, Agatha!" Vincent paced the floor, then stopped abruptly. He smiled.
"Well, Agatha, you win."
Her eyebrows went up. "I win?"
"The war, but not the battle," he said, smirking.
"What battle?"
"The one about to take place, dear Agatha."
"Don't you dare put a hand on me!" Agatha sputtered, and backed away as Vincent advanced.
He grimly stripped away his smoking jacket. "I think you offer that extra bit of excitement that I was searching for tonight," he said.
Agatha stared at his huge hard-on, horrified at the sight of the naked male cock. "Don't be crude," she said weakly.
He grabbed her wrist. While she flailed helplessly at him, he tore away her clothing until only her underwear remained. "No, Vincent," she protested, but he ripped her expensive full-length slip to shreds.
"You asked for it," he said.
She folded her arms across her tit-mounds. "What... are you going to do, Vincent?"
"I am going to fuck you, Agatha," he said bluntly.
"No!"
He chuckled. "You always said you'd give your all for the company, Agatha. Well, you're about to be called upon."
"Let me go, Vincent," she said, beginning to whine as she realized it was not an empty threat. "I won't say anything to the board of directors!"
"It's too late, Agatha," Vincent said. "I'm too excited about adding you to my collection."
"Your collection?" She looked bewildered.
"My collection of virgins," Vincent said. "The greatest thing on earth, Agatha, is an unfucked female. I keep wondering how a virgin your age will respond when she finds herself impaled on a hard prick for the first time."
"Never!" Agatha cried. "Not you. Not any other man!" She swung at Vincent. He pinned her arm, then jerked the cups of her bra away from her buxom tits with a jarring movement that made the heavy globes bounce on her chest. She fought like a wildcat as he flung her to the floor.
"Spread your legs, Agatha!" he cried.
The frightened woman lay on her back, panting, trying to cover her huge tits with her hands, but the task was impossible. They bulged from beneath her pressing palms and the flushed nipples showed beneath her clutching fingers.
"Promising." Vincent studied her from the waist down. She wore only very sheer flesh- colored pantyhose. Nothing over and nothing beneath. He could see the thick red cunt bush and the fat lips of her mature cunt. Whimpering, she freed one breast and pushed the hand between her legs.
"You... you're lusting over my body," she protested.
"Ah," Vincent chided, "I thought your underwear would be more conservative, Agatha. You do have some degree of sexuality, some girlish dream. It shocks me to discover that you wear practically nothing between your legs, Agatha. Is it a common practice with you?"
"I forgot my panties... my girdle," she whined.
"You're lying, Agatha. You've walked around half your life without panties, hoping that some man would drag you into a dark alley and rape you. Well, your dream is about to come true. But not on hard concrete. You shall have the pleasure of coming for the first time on my carpet."
"No... "
Vincent stared at his victim, whetting his desire for her. Naked, she was not as plump as she appeared when fully dressed. In fact, he found her very appealing. She resembled one of the voluptuous reclining nudes in his paintings, with very fleshy hips and ass-flesh, and fine strong thighs that could crush a man's ribs in a moment of passion.
"God, but you are tasty-looking," he breathed, crouching over her. He found the pantyhose too strong to tear away. Agatha fought viciously as he attempted to remove them. She ended up whimpering as he peeled them over her trembling buttocks and below her furry cunt-mound. The rest was easy, but she still kicked at Vincent as the hose left her feet.
"Beast," she gasped, bringing her legs together. It was a tug-of-war, but the woman's thighs were less muscular than they appeared. Suddenly, the strength was gone from them and they broke apart.
Vincent rolled between them. "And now, Agatha, the ultimate ecstasy. The thing you've been waiting for all your life." His stiff prick inched toward her cunt.
She felt the heat of his glans near her cunt-lips. "Vincent," she cried. "I beg you not to do this thing to me. Keep your young girls. Just let me go."
"Oh, I'll keep my young girls," Vincent assured her, "and I'll let you go. But first I must taste the heady wine between your pale, virginal thighs. Wine that has aged and mellowed in a delicate keg for years. It should be delicious."
Agatha sucked in her breath. His cock-knob touched her pussy-lips. The lips began to separate. He was entering her. She screamed. "Aaaaaaaiiii!"
"Hell," he said. "I haven't done anything yet."
Vincent felt hands tugging at him. The penetration had barely begun, yet he was being] torn away from the tight warm pussy-slit. He looked around. Both Karen and Becky were trying to prevent his attack upon Agatha.
"Damnit," he growled. "Let go."
"Don't, Vincent," Karen-said.. "She doesn't want you."
"She just thinks she doesn't," Vincent said, struggling forward, trying to bring his glans back into contact with her cunt.
"You dirty bastard," Becky hissed in his ear. "You always take what you want, don't you?"
Vincent flung his arms out and brushed the girls aside. They came back at him. The second interruption was enough to allow Agatha to scoot from beneath him. She crawled away on her knees. Vincent stared hungrily at her broad ass and exposed rift. "Torne!" he yelled.
The big black appeared from nowhere.
"Hold the girls," Vincent ordered. "But keep them here. I want them to watch. I want them to see that sniveling, nosy bitch get what she deserves."
Agatha was already on her feet, staggering away, but Vincent easily recaptured her and flung the bewildered woman to the floor for a second time. He yanked her legs apart and rammed his cock-head at her weaving, jerking crotch. Three inches of his thick cock-shaft sank abruptly into her pussy-hole. A startled, unbelieving expression crossed Agatha's face. "Uhihhh?" Vincent slammed his prick into her until his balls were crushed against her voluptuous ass. Agatha's eyes bulged at the enormity of his prick. "Uhhhhhhhh!"
Karen and Becky struggled with Torne, but their efforts were meaningless. His big arms were like a vise around their bodies. One huge paw was threatening to crush Karen's right breast.
"My tit, Torne!" she cried. He relaxed the pressure. She bounced her buttocks at him and felt the tremendous bulge of his cock. Her struggles and those of Becky were bringing him into intimate contact with their bodies. He was rapidly becoming horny. Karen gave up.
She could only stand by and watch poor Agatha being raped.
Agatha had ceased to resist. She lay, unmoving, beneath Vincent, impaled on his thick cock. "No... no... no... " she whimpered.
Vincent burst into laughter. "You lying slut," he said to his victim. "You're no virgin."
"Yes, oh yes!" Agatha cried. "I am. I am."
"Who?"
"Who?" She wouldn't look at him.
Vincent gurgled with amusement. "Who stuck his dirty old prick up your hallowed hole and pushed your cherry clear up to your tits?" he asked.
Agatha was digging her fingers into her tit-mounds, trying to punish herself for letting her long-kept secret be discovered. She wished that she had stayed at the office instead of prying into Vincent's private affairs. In exposing him, she had also exposed herself. "Oh, I hate you," she said.
Vincent kept his prick-meat buried in her heaving belly, but he made no attempt to continue fucking her. Her pussy nibbled at his glans, keeping his cock stiff. It was growing in both girth and length, virtually swimming in the surprising fluids her cunt-channel offered.
He was elated and excited. He had unearthed her secret life and he was compelled to learn all the unknown. "Who was it, Agatha?" he insisted.
"Oh, I can't tell you," she said, rolling her eyes. "I was horseback riding one day and I lost my hymen."
"Fucked on a horse?" he chided.
"No, I mean... " She looked miserable and she bounced her big ass at him in an attempt to dislodge his hurting cock.
He jammed his prick-knob against her cervix. She winced. "Who deflowered you, Agatha?
One of the office help?"
"N... No!" she gasped, beginning to appreciate the big throbbing cock-pole in her belly.
He took several quick fuck-strokes into her hole, then stopped the action. Her thighs quivered against his hips. "One of the drivers who caught you in a weak moment?" he asked.
"No, no," she said. "Oh, Vincent. Just get it over with. Don't humiliate me this way.
Everybody is watching... listening." She began to whimper softly as he renewed his thrusting. "I... oh... I... ahhhhh!"
In spite of the expression of aversion on her face, Agatha was beginning to respond more vigorously. Vincent could feel her cunt crawling along his prick-shaft, spasmodically gripping it with a clinging wetness.
"For a weathered old bitch, you're pretty good, Agatha," he said.
"You're cruel, cruel, cruel," Agatha sobbed, then began to work her ass at him, caressing his balls with the furred mass between her legs. "Oh, I shouldn't!" She caught herself, looked ashamed, then tried to make it appear to the girls that she was struggling against her attacker. However, she could not keep her cunt from making quick, minute hunches at the pleasing rod that filled it.
"I'm waiting for an answer." Vincent stopped fucking her and withdrew most of his prick from her cunt-hole. He left only the engorged cock-head inside her.
"Oh!" Agatha cried out in dismay. "Oh, put it back, Vincent. All of it. It... it's been so long since I've had a big one in me!"
He teased her with short, ineffective fuck-thrusts. "How long, Agatha?"
"Not since your father died," she cried, trying to get more of his shaft into her hungry cunthole. Then, a stunned expression crossed her features as she realized that she had revealed the utmost secret. "Oh, Vincent, that's not true! I... oh, God!" She began to blubber incoherently.
Vincent fell away from her, laughing. He rolled on the carpet, hugging his sides. "The deceitful old goat," he guffawed. "All these years the picture of dignity. And all the while he was sticking the rod to his stone-faced hard-assed secretary. Wouldn't Mother have been shocked?"
"It wasn't my fault, Vincent," Agatha whispered, dragging herself toward him. "He seduced me the first week I went to work for him. We were in a trailer, checking freight. I didn't think he was that kind of man. I was trustful. He brushed against me, and then he patted my behind. I almost screamed when he put his hand up my dress. It was the first time a man had ever touched me there. I was too frozen with fear to do anything. I let him take off my panties. He pushed me across a crate and... Oh, Vincent, I'm not bad like you think.
Your dear father was the only man who could ever lay claim to my body."
She made a desperate grab at Vincent's bobbing cock. "Oh, Vincent. You've exposed my awful sin. You might as well go on with it." She clutched his prick and showered the engorged glans with kisses.
Vincent did a flip and ended up between her thighs. This time Agatha parted them widely for him. "Ah... eeeeeee!" she squealed with delight, as he thrust all of his prick-meat into her hole.
Vincent fucked her with long deep strokes. Agatha whimpered softly as he came. His pleasure was over, but he kept balling her, wanting to punish her for the invasion of his privacy. Agatha didn't seem to mind. She'd experienced two orgasms and was patiently trying for another. Her delightfully broad ass was wet with love-fluids and so was the carpet beneath her. "You're even better than your dear father," Agatha gasped.
Vincent thought briefly about ramming his prick down her throat, but decided that she'd probably enjoy that also, having previously kissed his glans in a fit of passion. He sensed that she was near the sought-after climax, and he jerked his prick free, then just knelt between her legs.
"Oh, don't stop now!" Agatha cried, reaching for him. "Fuck me some more!"
"Anything to please you, dear Agatha." Vincent grinned and jammed his cock-knob directly against her asshole.
Agatha looked surprised. "Vincent... you... " Her eyes went to Torne and the two girls, asking their approval or condemnation.
"Yes, Agatha?" Vincent kept up the pressure, dead center on her asshole.
"You're putting it in my... in my... " Agatha said over and over. She looked toward the spectators again.
Torne was stone-faced. Becky registered no surprise. She had been through the mill with Vincent. But Karen was gawking in utter surprise at the proceedings. "Don't, Vincent," she cried. "You're hurting her."
"Oh, yes," Agatha sobbed. "You're hurting me! Your dear father never... never... never .
.."
Agatha tried to scoot away from the probing prick-shaft, but Vincent was much too agile for her. He kept his stiff prick firmly entrenched between her plump buttocks. Finally, Agatha simply slumped beneath him, hugging her heavily perspiring breasts.
Vincent took a firm grip on her hips and dug his toes into the carpet. Using the leverage, he felt that he was capable of penetrating anything, willing or not.
Agatha resumed her mouthing. "Vincent, you're putting it in... in... "
Vincent gnashed his teeth and plowed forward between the quivering hills. The tight never-before-penetrated asshole was beginning to give way.
"Putting it in my... in my... " Agatha whined deliriously.
Vincent gave a mighty thrust.
"Asssssss!" Agatha sobbed as his cock-head burst into her.
She realized that Vincent had accomplished something that his father had never even thought about. She not only felt uncomfortable, but she was also terribly self-conscious, knowing that the action was being watched by Torne and the two girls.
She wiggled a little. It didn't really hurt so badly. "Oh, Vincent," she cried, shedding a few crocodile tears. "You're ruining me. This is unforgivable. May God have mercy on you...
uh... uhhhhh!"
Vincent was grinding deeper into the tight reluctant membrane. Agatha wasn't accustomed to thinking in such vulgar terms, but she could hardly wrench her thoughts from her very private parts at this moment of sheer agony... or ecstasy? She felt like one huge split between her legs. Her cunt was her asshole and her asshole was her cunt. She didn't know which. Only that Vincent's big prick kept plowing inward, fucking her somewhere.
"My ass... my pussy... my ass," she whimpered, her eyes so hot that they dried the tears.
Vincent had about half of his prick buried inside her when he began making fucking motions.
"Ohhhhh!" Agatha's buttocks and legs were straining and writhing and her tits were rising and falling like huge white balloons. "Fuck my ass... my ass... my ass," she droned.
In her sweet misery, Agatha didn't care who was watching. She wished that the gallery would shout, urging her attacker to greater deeds. She hoped that he would bury all of that pleasing rod deep inside her. She felt wonderful. Like one huge, throbbing cunt. She was a young hot-blooded, red-cunted nymph in the woods, and some stone-balled Adonis had stepped down from his pedestal and was drilling her with a marble prick.
She was unbelievably lifting her buttocks upward, arching her hairy cunt-mound so that her .fat labia gaped open. Her clit sprang out of the steamy cunt-folds, its ruby-red head shimmering with pearly fluids.
Karen breathed uneasily. She could see the thick shaft buried in Agatha's asshole, and she could not believe that the woman was not suffering unbearable pain. And yet Agatha's quivering ass tottered in mid-air, and she burst into a wild uncontrollable sobbing as she came. The hot fluids jetted from her twitching slit as if Vincent's probing cock had struck a small well of cum somewhere inside her.
"I came... I came... I came," Agatha whimpered as her prick-hugging ass sank back to the carpet.
Vincent ejaculated, then gingerly removed his battered cock-stem from the exhausted victim. Agatha rolled over on her belly, trying to hide her shame by burying her face in the carpet. Her buttocks jerked spasmodically, quivered gently, then relaxed.
Vincent put his smoking jacket on and approached Torne and the girls. "You, Karen, I will deal with later," he said. "Vincent, I never... "
"You tried to help Agatha," he said sharply. "You'll have to be properly punished." He turned to Becky. "And you, Becky. You've tried to gather my enemies against me, and you've failed for the last time."
"Vincent," Becky said through trembling, bloodless lips. "I'm sorry. Don't hurt me. Just let me go and I'll never bother you again."
"I'm sure you won't," Vincent said. "Bringing Agatha here was a mistake. And I intend to impress the mistake upon your mind so that you won't make it again. If reasoning doesn't do the job, fear will."
"Not the pink room!" Becky said. "Ill go mad if you put me down there again!"
"Definitely not the pink room," Vincent said. Becky looked relieved.
"You have little cause for being happy," Vincent said grimly.
"Agatha?" Becky said, beginning to writhe in Torne's arms. "What you did to Agatha... "
Vincent smiled coldly. "You'd like that, wouldn't you, Becky? For you it would be the easy way out. No, I'm afraid that would be old hat to you. We must be devious. We must think of something that will really blow your mind."
Karen tried to intercede for the frightened girl. "Let her go, Vincent. She's done you no real harm."
"Stay out of this, Karen," Vincent snapped. "Be thankful that you are not Becky. Else it would be you that I would be turning over to Torne."
"Torne?" Becky looked sick.
"Yes, Torne."
"Oh God, no," Becky cried. "Anything else, Vincent. But don't give me to Torne!" Her struggles increased as she became even more frightened. All the while the big black had held her captive, she'd felt his huge prick-meat pressing against the curve of her buttocks.
Even now it was stiffening, becoming more thick and elongated. She could feel the gigantic knob burning into the crevice of her ass, searing through her skirt and panties.
"Do you want her, Torne?" Vincent asked.
Torne did not answer, but he smiled broadly and placed his big hands across Becky's heaving tits.
"So be it," Vincent said. "Forget that she is white, Torne. Forget that she was ever my mistress."
"Vincent!" Becky screamed as he turned away.
Vincent ignored her cries and took Karen by the hand. He led her to the sofa. "You'll stay here and watch, my sweet," he said. "I want you to see what is in store for you if you ever go against me again."
"You'd throw me to Torne, like a piece of meat to a dog?" Karen asked.
"If you deserved it," Vincent said. "Now be quiet. I want to watch this. It should be quite an orgy."
Karen did not want to watch the unwilling Becky being ravished, but she was curious about Torne. Torne did not undress but simply unzipped his pants and took out his cock.
Karen shuddered. It surpassed what she had imagined it would be like. The long thick shaft was inhuman.