Chapter 6
Ramey wandered through the grounds of the mansion. He didn't see a soul around, not even near the swimming pool and idly wondered where everyone had gone. The gardens were beautifully trimmed and kept. Huge trees -lined secluded, flower-decked walks. The open doors of the greenhouse wafted the tropical scents of rare blooms over the area. There was even a very lovely little Japanese rock garden behind the greenhouse with its own little pond and Japanese good luck post. Moratta must have spent a fabulous amount of money on the grounds alone.
He returned to his room and lay down to plan his strategy on the problems confronting him. He wondered if he could do anything to really help little Phil Moratta. His one experi mental hypnotic session with the boy had shown a deep-rooted problem that was keeping him from normal development. The doctor in Ramey's make-up wondered if he should talk to Moratta about really letting him go further in treating the boy. Moratta was evidently very attached to the boy, but might still resent any suggestion that there was something wrong with Phil. And he might get violent at being told what he, himself, was the cause of Phil's warped mentality.
For the time being, he decided it would be better to concentrate on the job Mike had brought him out here to do: get information from Nina Lyman. The voluptuous, blonde wife of Steve Lyman apparently had a strong will of her own. He knew she was interested in him as a man as soon as they met, and the psychologist bit had whetted her appetite. He had no doubts about his ability to get her into the trance state under one pretext or another. Still, he might encounter mental blocks when he wanted her to spill vital information. There was a simple key to success in Nina's case. He had to get her going sexually under hypnosis and he was sure he'd get what he wanted. Both ways, he thought as he pictured her enticing tits, the generous curves of her hips and ass that oozed sex. Yes, it definitely would be a plasure to apply his special techniques to Nina Lyman....
He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep with this thought in mind and perhaps it had something to do with the dream he had.
He was on a plain, empty and void. A figure approached. He waited and saw a woman in filmy garments. As she approached, she began disrobing until, when she reached him, she was naked.
"I'm beautiful," she announced.
The woman was Lee, yet she did not look like Lee. She was tall and gorgeously proportioned. "I want a son," she said and she went to her knees and then down flat on the ground.
He was unable to communicate with her, but his thought was that he was impotent and could not give her a son.
"I'm waiting," she said.
She watched him. Her eyes questioned and she turned aside.
He kept telling himself that this was only a dream but he was unable to convince himself of this. The woman got up on her hands and knees and came close and wriggled her ass suggestively. This angered him and he was able to speak.
"You should be ashamed of yourself."
"Why? That's for children and for pleasure. We can have both."
"I will not have a son by a tramp."
"I will pay you ten thousand dollars for a son."
The woman wriggled her cunt and her tongue lolled out as she panted.
"You're shameless-shameless!" he shouted soundlessly.
"I'm in love! I'm in love! Pity me!"
A new figure approached, warily from behind the woman. He could not tell anything about the figure except that it was human and malevolent. There was a stick clutched in its hand and its eyes were on the woman's torso.
Ramey cried out, "Look out! Look out! There will be pain. You will suffer evil."
The woman looked around and smiled. She was not afraid. "It will be better than nothing."
"You're insane!"
Then there was a noise; a grating sound that turned to a snarl. Ramey came erect on the bed and it seemed he was still in a dream.
But he swiftly realized he had awakened suddenly.
He had slept quite a while because it was now late evening; dusk. But there was still enough light to see well as he got off the bed and turned to the window.
Two men were fighting down below.
There was a section of lawn at that point, an ideal site for what was transpiring.
Ramey watched, spellbound. The men were big and rugged and seemed about evenly matched. It was a savage, uncompromising battle, fought silently, no quarter asked or given.
But so grotesque was the whole situation, that Ramey could not convince himself that he had awakened. This could only be a disjointed extension of his dream. Two men fighting at a civilized country gathering of this sort was bizarre enough, but there were added factors.
One of the men, a hairy giant with fists like hams, wore bathing trunks.
The other had on only a T-shirt.
Incredible was hardly the word. Especially when no one made any effort to break up the fight.
There was a half dozen spectators, two of them, women. The remaining four, males, were all wearing swimming trunks. They were watching the battle as disinterested spectators rather than friends with any inclination to stop it.
As Ramey stared, the hairy man knocked the naked one down. Perhaps it was the first knockdown of the fight because the hairy man rushed forward with the intention of kicking his prone opponent. But he realized he was barefoot.
The fallen man, groggy from the blow, came to his hands and knees and the hairy one raised his fists and delivered a rabbit punch. It was like an anvil coming down on his target, the kneeling man's thick, bull neck.
The blow sprawled the man again, his arms and legs splaying out as his face drove into the sod. But the blow did not incapacitate him.
He roared like a wounded lion and rolled over on his back. The aggressor had stepped back and now he tried another vicious fighting trick. He took a long step and jumped, intent on landing with his whole weight on the prone man's unprotected middle.
But the latter's head was clear enough to telegraph his body and he rolled away.
One of the male spectators laughed. "You're too slow, Tino!"
The jibe, aimed at the hairy giant, brought answering laughs from the other watching men. The one called Tino grunted from the impact of his weight hitting the sod.
But he turned nimbly away in time to avoid the clutching hand that readied for his ankle.
The man wearing nothing but the T-shirt came to his feet. Tino backed away and they measured each other.
The two women stood close together near the French doors that gave into the house. They were both magnificent specimens of superb womanhood. One, a ravishing brunette, wore the skimpiest of bikinis. She could as well have been naked for all the protection the string-like garments gave. Her tits were truly magnificent. Her legs and ass were worthy of any night club line in the country.
And she was angry. Her fists were doubled and her lips were drawn back off her teeth as she glared at the fighters. "Kill him, Tino!" She snarled.
The other girl was of slighter build. Even at a glance, Ramey was impressed by both the beauty of her face and also the look of fear and apprehension on it.
The girl may have had clothes on but probably not, because she clutched a huge turkish towel around her body. She watched the progress of the fight with a frightened intensity and when Tino smashed a blow squarely into the nude man's mouth, she winced as though she had taken the impact of it herself.
"Kill the rotten louse!" the other girl demanded.
Ramey, held motionless by this incredible scene, watched as the naked man staggered backward and sprawled again on the grass in a sprawled position.
Mike Moratta arrived on the scene. He came striding through the French doors. But if Ramey expected an end to the fight, he was disappointed.
Moratta stopped just outside the doors and scowled at the contestants. He jerked his head in the direction of the other watchers. One of the men crossed over to stand beside him and whisper into his ear, evidently briefing him on the reason for the battle.
The explanation made, Moratta folded his arms and watched the fight with added hostility. The naked gladiator had scrambled to his feet. He was knocked down again and Moratta's scowl changed to a smile. It was obvious that he wanted the man beaten.
The hairy man, though no bigger than the one clad only in T-shirt, seemed to be winning. The naked man went down again. He came up slower this time, shaking his head groggily. Again he was on his hands and knees.
The one known as Tino moved up behind him as he delayed arising. Tino lifted his foot, planted it on the point of the other's ass and shoved viciously. The naked one essayed a swan dive and went on his face.
The first time, Tino changed his expression. He grinned. His fallen adversary seemed dazed-too much so to do anything but come up again, into the fatal position. Again Tino booted him forward.
But this time he was undercautious. The naked man, after the second grunting swan dive, rolled over and caught Tino by the ankle and brought him down.
It now became a butting, gouging, wrestling match. Tino squalled out a bellow of agony as the other's knee came up hard against his balls.
"Watch it, Tino," the brunette cried. "Hell cripple you. He's a dirty fighter!"
Tino rolled his foe over with an armlock and dropped his weight of his body on the exposed legs and middle and chest. He was holding his opponent's wrists again the ground and had him comparatively helpless.
The naked man began to buck and twist in order to work loose. He arched his spine in a steady rhythm, trying to throw Tino off.
A laugh came from the spectator group. One of the men called out, "Give it to him good, Tino. He's asking for it."
At that moment, the man underneath achieved his purpose. He threw Tino off. Then he staggered to his feet, but only to take a staggering punch full on the jaw.
He back-pedalled and went down and this time he stayed-flat on the grass, his chest heaving.
Tino waited. Almost exhausted himself, he did not move in on his helpless foe. He stood ready for a few moments, then turned and walked to the French doors. He stopped and turned and looked at the girl who was wrapped in the towel.
His face was cold and commanding. As he waited, the girl cringed. "No, Tino. Please-no!"
He said nothing. He waited. Finally the girl's shoulders drooped and she moved toward him.
The brunette now turned her anger on the girl who cringed in the towel. As the latter stopped and again whimpered, "Please Tino. I-I can't take it," the brunette sneered. "Go in and get your medicine, sweetie. You got it coming too."
Tino took the frightened girl by the arm and they disappeared into the house.
Now Ramey was treated to a new surprise; the brunette went to the fallen man-the one she'd wanted beaten-and knelt beside him. She used his T-shirt to wipe blood from his face. Then she helped him to his feet and they too entered the house.
The excitement was over, Ramey went back and sat down on the edge of the bed. The strange feeling of unreality persisted.
What manner of place had he gotten into? What manner of people had he come into contact with? Obviously, those he'd seen below his window were guests who'd arrived while he'd been asleep. That didn't answer anything, though.
The key lay in Mike Moratta. He was the host. He controlled the situation. And he'd stood by and let two men fight viciously in his back yard.
There was a knock on Ramey's door. He called out "Come in," and the door opened and Joe Toder entered.
Toder seemed weary and somewhat disgusted. "I figured you'd be awake," he said.
Ramey smiled ruefully. "That racket brought me to in a hurry. What was it all about?"
Joe Toder dropped his lank frame into a chair and lit a cigarette. 'The bosses' weekend company. They're running true to form. If it isn't an agrument over a crap game it's a fight over somebody's broad."
"That one seemed to be over a woman."
"The guy that got beat up was Bud Fallon. Tino Cavanne caught him in bed fucking with his broadless than an hour after they got here, too."
A scream ripped the silence. The scream of a woman from some other part of the house. There was a plea faintly heard. 'Tino! No! For God's sake-no!
"The broad's getting it right now," Joe Toder said.
"What's he doing to her?" Ramey said. He didn't try to hide his alarm.
Joe shrugged. "He won't mark her any place it shows. Not if she keeps her pants on."
Another shriek.
"She's taking it the hard way," Joe said casually. He forgot the girl and her troubles. "Dinner'll be ready in an hour. I looked in on you and you were really in the sack so I let you sleep." He snubbed out his cigarette. "I didn't think there was anybody you'd be in a sweat to meet."
"I don't understand any of this," Ramey said.
"Any of what?"
Joe was openly inviting Ramey's confidence so Ramey spoke directly. 'That fight for one thing. It was ridiculous. Thinks like that just don't happen in a normal-"
"Who said this place was normal?"
"I can't understand Moratta permitting such a thing. He has a son. An impressionable boy. Moratta must be out of his mind."
"I wouldn't go so far as to say that. But a big change came over him about three years ago."
"What happened?"
"I don't know. He had some trouble with his wife. He was really nuts about her." Joe Toder made a contemptuous gesture. "She wasn't like these cunt's that hang around here now. Moratta and his wife used to know a higher class crowd. But they all drifted away."
"I was talking to the boy. What happened to his mother had a traumatic effect on him."
"What's that?"
"Something shocked him."
"I've only been working for Mike a year and a half. I knew him before that, though. And he was a great guy."
"Now he seems to have surrounded himself with bums and tramps. I never imagined such people existed."
"Are you kidding? You can find all kinds. You ought to know that."
Ramey was surprised and gratified at the way Joe Toder had slipped easily and naturally into his confidence. It bolstered Ramey's ego and made him feel more sure of himself.
"You never met Moratta's wife?"
"Oh, sure. A couple of times. She was a sharp little number."
"Did he divorce her?"
"I don't know. I never asked him."
"Do you think the boy knows?"
"Maybe-maybe not." Joe Toder leaned forward and put his elbows on hos bony knees. "Look pal. I wouldn't nose too deep into Moratta's business. He's tough and he's hard and he's dangerous."
"I'm sure of that. I'm only curious because he's such an amazing person."
Joe hadn't asked Ramey what Moratta wanted of him, and he didn't know.
Ramey said. "Did the boy ever have a pet? A dog maybe?"
"Not since I been here."
They been silent while the girl screamed again from somewhere in the house. But the scream was different this time. It came from ecstasy rather than pain. It started as a moan and rose in pitch as though in ratio to a rising inner demand for greater release.
"Oh, God!"
Two frenzied words. Then the scream melted back into a moan and scaled down.
As it ended, Ramey got the impression of a woman thoroughly and expertly emptied of everything within her.
Joe Toder grinned mirthlessly. "Sounds like he really gave hell to her."
Ramey felt embarrassed, ill-at-ease. This annoyed him. His professional instincts should have given him an impersonal attitude toward emotional outbursts of whatever nature.
"Does the boy show any interest in the flowers-the garden or that sort of things?"
"Hell no. Why?"
"I was just wondering. How big a staff does Moratta keep here?"
"Six people. It's a job, running a place like this right."
"Why does he stay here? There are only himself and his son. I wouldn't think he'd like it here in the country. He seems like a city-type of man."
"He used to be. But, as I said, Mike changed."
Joe got to his feet. "I got to go. If you come down in half an hour or so, dinner'll be ready."
"Thanks. I'll be there."
Ramey went down immediately. Taking a cue from the people he'd seen in the garden, he put on a pair of trunks the thoughtful Joe Toder had provided, and a robe he found hanging in the closet.
At the foot of the stairs, he paused. Voices indicated that the new guests were gathered on the patio. He didn't want to meet them-at least not yet-so he went straight ahead, turned left, and moved through a pair of French doors into a side yard.
There, on a chaise lounge beside a table holding a half-empty martini glass, lazed Nine Lyman.
She smiled at Ramey. "You're dodging them too?"
"Not exactly. I'm not in the mood for light talk."
"Light! They're about as light as a pack of elephants. Did you see the fight?"
Ramey nodded. "From my window."
"I had a ringside seat myself. It was really something, wasn't it?"
She was trying to put disgust and contempt into her voice, but Ramey detected an undertone of sadistic relish.
"I thought it rather surprising."
"You're a master at understatement. Of all the slobs! When Tino knocked that character down, he actually bounced."
"I never saw anything so savage."
Nina Lyman laughed and the bright look on her face verified his first suspicion. She had enjoyed the vicious spectacle.
"When Tino kicked him I was afraid he's lose his foot." She laughed aloud. "That would have been funny. Tino with his foot-"
Ramey realized she was quite drunk. He cut in quickly with the first thought that struck him. "It's a beautiful evening."
Nina came to her feet. She did not sway, her drunkenness reflecting mainly in her eyes. "Let's go for a walk, handsome."
Her aura glowed. Her luscious figure, covered by a two-piece suit that was a little more decent than the bikinis Ramey had seen, reached out for his cock almost tangibly.
He thought of Lee, and he reacted strangely. He was suddenly proud of Lee. She was broad-minded. She knew her way around.
But she was no whore.
"It's about dinner-time," he said.
"Are you hungry?"
"Not particularly."
"That's too bad," she pouted archly. "I'd hoped you were."
Ramey's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'd like a walk," he said.
She stretched lazily, pushing her stomach out. "I thought you would."
She was so damned beautiful. They were all beautiful. This seemed ridiculous to Ramey. No one ever went on a weekend and found all the cunt completely desirable.
But then he realized, taking the men into consideration, the gorgeous pussy could have been carefully selected. The men had money and they used it to buy what they wanted and they wanted beauty.
Nevertheless, he thought, it would have been a welcome relief at that moment to see an ordinary looking female.
"Let's roam in that direction," Nina Lyman said. She pointed a graceful arm off toward a grove of trees beyond the circular drive. As Ramey hesitated, she smiled lazily. "If you're afraid of my husband, relax. He's upstairs-sound asleep."
She hooked her arm into his and he could feel her warmth against him. "Besides," she said. "You could beat his ears off."
"Lovely evenings," Ramey repeated.
She laughed. "I honestly think you're shy." Then before he could answer, she changed the tack of the conversation. "I've got a question, doctor."
"I'm at your service."
"Is there any connection between love and violence?"
"In what way?"
"Oh, I don't know. But watching that fight did things to me-funny things."
"Such as-?"
"It's hard to describe. But I wanted to see Tino kick the shit out of that naked rat! I wanted to see him sprawled out with his-"
She was drunk. If her question had been: Does alcohol break down inhibitions? He would have answered with an unqualified, yes.
"There is a tendency, under such circumstances," Ramey said, "to experience certain inner releases."
"I wonder if it wouldn't be fun to get raped?" she murmured dreamily.
Ramey had a sudden urge to try for Moratta's information. To go for broke here and now. She was pliable. She was off-guard. He might be able to put her into a trance and get what he wanted from her.
"Let's just sit here and watch the red go out of the sky," he said.
He'd indicated a smooth, grassy spot inside the grove. It was cut off on all sides by low bushes.
"Why not," she said. She threw him a sidelong glance. "My legs are getting weak from walking so close to you."
He sat down with his back against a tree and she threw herself down with her face against him.
"Mmmm," she sighed. "Your skin is so cool."
He felt the quick, wet touch of her tongue and he ran the tip of his finger along her naked back. She shivered.
Now? Or later?
He changed his mind at the last minute-switched it into another direction-when something slightly hostile, a puckish urge to mischief, caused him to remember a technique he'd learned years earlier. He recalled using the technique on Lee once and he could still hear her cursing him in a choked voice.
He ran his fingers down Nina Lyman spine again and drew a second shiver.
"That makes goose pimples," she said.
His fingers played lightly over her covered asscheeks. Her leg muscles flexed and she rolled over on her back. She looked up at him through narrowed lids.
His hand continued to play over skin. She closed her eyes and pulled her abdomen in, inviting him. At the right moment, she obediently lifted her ass off the ground. She sighed as she lowered them again. He laid her shorts aside.
They were silent for a time.
"Do you like that," he asked as he fingered her cuntlips and played with her clitoris.
Her eyes stayed closed but her red mouth opened. "Uh-huh. Feels wonderful."
He continued to finger her clitoris, watching her for results. Her tits began rising and falling faster. He saw her eyes roll upward under the lids. Her cunt tensed.
At the right moment, just as her body began reaching up toward his hand, he stopped.
She sank back with a sigh. As soon as her mouth closed, he went back to what he'd been doing.
Again she stiffened. This time, breath hissed from between her teeth.
He watched her knees. They moved away from each other. One hand spread itself flat on the grass and her red nails dug into the ground. Again, her eyes rolled back.
Her knees bent as she drew her feet up toward her asscheeks. She put her lower lip between her teeth and gripped tight.
"You rat!" she whispered, the words blurred.
He increased his tempo. She began twisting her hips.
He stopped.
This time she did not go limp. She stiffened her body and cursed him. "Don't stop! Don't stop! Oh, you cruel louse! Don't stop!"
But he did stop and a smile played around Ramey's lips as he wondered what she'd do about it. Nina, hips her hot cunt writhing, settled the question quickly. She turned and putting her arms around him, began to kiss him passionately. Her hot lips went down to his neck and left a warm train across his chest. Nina's tongue flicked lower and as she began to kiss his navel, he too began to burn with desire. Ramey was caressing her tits and rolled her jutting nipples that had become like hard, ruby gems between his thumb and forefingers.
Nina ducked lower and he suddenly felt his stiff prick enveloped in a delightfully moist, warm sensation. His hands went to her head as she began a tantalizing rhythm of cock-sucking. She knew what she was doing and Ramey liked her technique so much he wanted it to last forever. Bolts of blue-white lightning jolted through him as Nina sucked him off, furiously. He was still groaning and twitching with pleasure surges moments later as she swallowed the last of the hot scum he had shot down her throat. Lifting her head. Nina laughed as she said coolly, "I wouldn't have given you a blow-job like that if you weren't a professional man...."