Chapter 3
As Brenda paced briskly down the corridor toward the Crest Room, the man with the crooked teeth fell into step behind her. Between them and the Crest Room an elevator door stood open. As they neared the elevator, the man behind Brenda narrowed the distance between them. He gripped her elbow with callused fingers one step from the elevator and before Brenda could turn her head to see who had touched her, she was swung effortlessly through the open doors. The momentum carried her stumbling all the way to the back wall where she managed to keep from falling only by grabbing the handrail circling the walls. Her breath caught in her throat and she turned around, her heart racing madly in her breast, and tried to scream, but her attacker was too fast for her. His stale, nicotine-stained fingers covered her mouth and pressed her twisting head against the back wall.
In her panicked state, Brenda saw a huge black man, dressed in a dark tuxedo and a lace shirt, step out of the elevator. Her voice was muffled by the skinny man's hand. "Help! Help me!" She saw the large Negro turn around, his frame nearly filling the entrance. He placed his fists on his hips in a posture very similar to the way she had seen Charles stand. The black man's lips curled back in a cruel smile that showed even teeth shining evilly at her. Then the elevator doors closed cutting him from sight. The floor jerked and they began to move upward. The skinny man let go of her and stepped back. "Take it easy," he said, wiping his hand on his tie. "Nothing is going to happen to you."
Brenda clutched her purse and slid as far away from him into the corner as she could. She tried to slow her breathing. "What do you want with me," she cried, trying to control her voice and maintain as much of her lost dignity as possible, but her words came out shaky and childlike, giving away her fear.
"The boss wants to see you," he said simply. A lustful grin spread across his ugly face. "He always gets the good ones." He took a step closer to her, his foul breath reeking in her face. "But sometimes he gives me seconds." He laughed uproariously at his own joke, cackling and coughing spittle from his mouth.
She cowered herself even more tightly into the corner. My God! What was happening to her. What was he going to do with her, and who was the boss?
When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, Brenda eagerly slipped around the leering man and stepped through the doors. She had intended to run down the corridor as soon as she was out of the elevator, but instead of being in a corridor, she found herself standing in the middle of a closed vestibule with no place to run. The vestibule was plushly decorated with potted palms and flowers lighted from the ceiling. In an extravagant display of luxury, a miniature cupid poured water from a small jug resting on her shoulder into a pool containing tropical fish.
Brenda froze, her hands covering her cheeks, even more surprised at her environment than she had been at being thrown bodily into the elevator. The elevator doors closed cutting off any hope of escape. From behind, the skinny man nudged her toward the door and then pressed a buzzer with his finger. Immediately a voice that she didn't recognize came out of an intercom located above the door.
"It's me," the skinny man said.
"Is the girl with you," the voice asked.
"Ripe and ready," he answered.
A different voice barked from the intercom this time and Brenda thought she recognized the voice. "Cut the crap, Rifter, and show her in," the voice said angrily. The intercom was cut and replaced by the buzz that unlatched the door. Rifter pushed it open and stepped back for her to enter first..
Brenda didn't see that she had any choice. Besides, she wasn't as afraid now as she had been before recognizing the voice of Charles Stern. And she was letting her temper build up to give him a good piece of her mind. But again, as she stepped into the interior of the hotel suite, her breath was taken away by the richness of the surroundings.
Rich, white shag carpeting covered the largest living room she had ever seen. Ornately designed furniture added an Oriental touch to the suite's decor. There were four people already in the room. They all ignored her except a beautiful, ebony-colored girl who lounged on one of the many couches with a drink in her hand and stared at her out of eyes glazed either by alcohol or by drugs.
Rifter walked away from her and joined another man who was watching Charles Stern and an Oriental circling each other on a mat, judo-fashion. Since only the girl watched her, Brenda began backing slowly toward the door, her eyes watching the men closely, ready to stop if they did anything. She reached the door, her hands found the knob behind her back. Still, no one other than the girl paid any attention. Quickly, she spun around and twisted the knob and jerked frantically at the door, but it was locked. The dark girl laughed idiotically behind her.
When Brenda turned around everyone stared at her, including Charles and the man he was sparring with. Charles stepped off the mat and walked toward her. "All right, everyone," he said, "let's break it up."
As the others began leaving, Charles planted himself in front of her, hands on hips, legs spread as he had when she had seen him getting out of the elevator. And as before, the same conditioned reaction began taking place in her body. Oh, dear God! Not again, she thought as the tension built within her, causing her heart to race in her breast and her blood to pump hotly through her veins. Already she felt the juices flowing between her legs.
Oh, Ross, forgive me for what I'm thinking! I won't give in, I promise.
"Thanks for coming," Charles said.
He was wearing some kind of a judo outfit and despite her resolve, she found herself attracted to him. "Why did you force me up here?" she demanded, suppressing her feelings and keeping her voice sharp.
Charles smiled. "To have dinner, of course." There was no trace of irony in his voice and his face remained friendly, but she knew he had to have other things in mind.
"I'm not hungry."
Charles ignored her comment and turned his back to her and marched quickly away from her. "Come on," he said.
She looked around. The others had already gone and Charles disappeared out of sight through a doorway in the far side of the room. She hesitated, unable to make up her mind whether to follow him or turn back to the front door and try that again. Before she could make up her mind, the lights dimmed in the room, except for a faint glow coming from a large aquarium to her right. The darkness made up her mind for her and turned back in a panic and tried the door again, but the results were the same as before. The door was locked.
She took a deep breath and angrily traced Charles' path across the room. He waited for her in a dimly lit, Oriental dining area with pillows surrounding a low, wooden table already set for two. When she entered the room, he sat down cross-legged on the floor and motioned for her to join him. "I'm not staying for dinner," she stated flatly, refusing to sit where he had indicated that she should.
"Then have some tea," he said, pouring from an elaborately designed teapot into matching cups.
"I'm not thirsty."
He looked up and his ice-blue eyes locked momentarily with hers. "You are thirsty." Immediately Brenda realized he was right. Suddenly her mouth tasted like dry carpet. She couldn't remember ever having been so thirsty before. Feeling angry and foolish with herself at the same time, she sat on one of the pillows, awkwardly trying to keep her skirt down. "That's better," he said, handing her one of the cups of tea.
She grabbed at it with both hands and thirstily began sipping it into her mouth. "Easy," he said. "You're not that thirsty."
The dryness in her mouth eased. She set the cup on the table and folded her hands self-consciously in her lap. She felt like a college freshman again. He was so poised and confident that she felt childish by comparison. "I know why you had that evil little man bring me here," she said, keeping her back stiff.
Charles sipped from his cup. "Oh? Why?"
"For the same reason you took me out before, but it's not going to happen again."
"What's not?"
"We're not going to make love. I'm engaged to a wonderful man and I'm only here for the Real Estate Convention. Nothing more."
"Of course," he said, sliding closer to her. "We won't make love unless you want to. We'll just talk," he said. "Catch up on the past." He slid closer to her and reached out with his left hand, letting it trail gently down from her right shoulder and rest on her hand. Brenda cringed as his fingers enflamed passions deep within her. Already she felt her will to resist melting away. Desperately she tried to rally her defenses.
"You're a beast! Sending that horrid man after me. He literally threw me in the elevator. I could have been hurt."
"Rifter gets carried away sometimes," Charles laughed, leaning closer to her ... so close she felt his breath on her hair. "He does odd jobs for me occasionally. Rifter operates in a dream world. He thinks he's working for the underworld."
"Don'-t touch me," Brenda said. "If you do, I'll scream."
He touched her. He lifted his left hand and trailed his fingers back up her arm and over her shoulder to her neck. He spread his fingers and buried them in her long, blonde hair. She didn't scream then, nor did she scream when he closed his fingers into a fist, knotting her hair at the nape of her neck like a rope, and turned her frightened face up to be kissed. At the last minute, Brenda tried to turn away, but he held her too tightly. His lips pressed against hers and he worked his tongue between her teeth, exploring deeply into her mouth.
Brenda tasted his probing tongue and felt his breath hotly on her neck. A spark came to life inside of her, growing hotter with each movement of his tongue stabbing into her oral cavity. The spark became a burning hunger, a promise of forbidden fruit, a promise of deep, ecstatic orgasm beyond anything she had ever experienced before. Her body yielded to his urgent prodding, relaxing slowly and melting into his arms as though her body knew better than she that this was where she belonged. She felt the same way she had felt in his arms so many years before. She wanted only to please him, to give him the same thrill of desire that she herself now felt. "I want you," she whispered softly, pulling her lips from his. "But not here. Not like this. I'm not free." She looked down at her hands twisting nervously in her lap. "There's Ross to think of. I'm engaged to him." She shook her head as though trying to clear away the cobwebs of passion blinding her to her responsibility. "I can't do this behind his back."
Charles still held her hair with his left hand; with his right hand he reached up and began undoing the buttons on the front of her blouse. "If he was here, he could watch for all I care about him," he said, the last button coming free. He pulled her blouse apart with both hands, exposing her large breasts rising and falling with her heavy breathing.
Her attempt to resist was half-hearted. She tried to pull her blouse back together, but his hands came up to her wrists and pulled her arms apart. Even his strength and dominance flamed the coals of passion consuming her young body. And while he remained cool and controlled, Brenda churned in a sea of rippling cross-currents, wanting to give her very soul to the man who was now burying his face in the succulent valley between her breasts and wanting to hold herself back, to clear the confusion in her mind. Was this right? Or was she only telling herself it was right? Or worse yet ... oh, my God ... was he the one making the decisions for her? Was she tinder his control completely?
Whatever the answer, when Charles unhooked the straps on her bra and pulled it down over her shoulders, her hands came up and caressed the back of his neck as he snuggled his face into her bare breasts. The passion moistening the crotch of her panties allowed the final, clinging bonds of resistance to slide away unnoticed. A great shudder overtook her body, her breasts quivered vibrandy, and an animal cry screamed from her throat. "Take me! Ooooohhhh ... take me!"
Charles wasted no time stripping the remainder of her clothes from her body. Although she eagerly cooperated with him, he lifted and pulled and pushed her this way and that like an adult undressing a child. Only, he didn't do things gently nor did he do them necessarily in the proper order or concern for the garment. With his left hand, he grasped the neck of her unbuttoned blouse and pulled it back away from her shoulders and down her arms. As her arms pulled free behind her back, he grabbed her under her right armpit and lifted her into the air until she was left dangling half on the floor and half in the air like a stuffed doll. He threw her blouse away from her and, taking hold of the hem of her skirt, jerked it up over her head. The waist of the blouse jammed up under her breasts, mashing them painfully under her chin, the tight band of the waist cinching her like a roped animal.
Letting her drop to the carpet, Charles gathered the hem of her skirt together in his right fist, pushed down on the top of her head and jerked up hard on the skirt. The skirt didn't pull free. Brenda's arms and breasts were bound inside her skirt with only her hands visible above her head. The pain in her breasts seared through them as though they were filled with burning coals, but even the pain stimulated her need for him. His hand pressed her face into the skin-stretched, shiny pinkness of her own nipples. As he jerked at her skirt, her nipples slapped again and again into her lips and nose. She couldn't resist the temptation and, as her breasts touched her lips, she slipped her tonguetip from between her lips and tasted the honey of her nipples.
With a mighty heave that snapped Brenda from the floor, Charles jerked the skirt free from her body as the fabric gave way under the pressure. Brenda landed with a painful thump on the carpet, but her squeal of protest went unheeded as Charles gripped her with one hand under her right knee and lifted her again into the air, with her head dangling down to the floor, and with his other hand ripped her panties from her hips with a single yank of his arm. Brenda was left in a dazed heap on her back, her legs spread open, her feet twisted back almost under her buttocks, her elbows supporting her back in a half-sitting position. Her hair was strewn about her face, giving her a wild, petulant look. She tried to catch her breath, too stunned and battered to move from the obscene position he had dumped her in.
His eyes devoured her body. And when he spoke, his voice growled out his uncontrollable need. "I'm going to fuck you harder than you've ever been fucked before," he pledged, standing up and tearing his own clothes from his athletic body.
"Yes! Yes! Fuck me. I want you now!" she cried, her heart racing her blood hotly, her pussy hot and steaming, begging for his cock to be thrust deep inside her, jammed in like a giant pole until she found her relief that only his body could give her. "I can't wait ... please ... now! Fuck me! Put it in me!"
She looked up, her eyes delirious with need and wanting. She watched him cast the last of his clothing to the floor. The sight of him completely nude took her breath away. If anyone deserved to be likened to a Greek god, Charles did. His body rippled with perfectly proportioned, smooth-flowing muscles. She couldn't get enough of him. She held her arms out to him, but he ignored her plea to take her hastily. A chuckle of triumph burst from his lips. "You want it, all right," he said. "You know my cock is the only thing that can satisfy you, but you're going to have to beg for it. You've got to earn the right to be fucked by me, baby."
His words stung her like a whip, but they didn't slow the terrible aching for him. If that's what he wanted from her, she would do anything ... anything ... if he would just put his beautiful, swollen cock inside her. "I'm begging," she cried. "Take me, lover."
She heard his cruel laugh of triumph again. "Not yet," he said, bending over and grasping her left ankle between his viselike fingers. "First you have to show me how much you want it."
With her slender ankle locked tightly in his fist, Charles dragged her physically from the dining room, down the entire length of a long corridor and into a very large master bedroom. He treated her like a slave, like a piece of property that he owned and could do anything he wished with it. Once in the bedroom, he swung her completely into the air and tossed her into an unceremonious tangle on a massive, circular water bed. "Welcome to my lair," he growled. "And now let's see if you're worthy."
Her head spinning and her skin burning from the carpet, Brenda tried to push herself to a sitting position with her palms, but he squatted over her on his knees, his erect penis throbbing inches from her face, and pushed her backward until she lay flat on the floating spread covering the bed. His left hand pinned her neck to the bed as though his next move might make her squirm away. His right hand went to her crotch. She trust her pelvis upward, trying to get him to bring her the relief she so desperately needed.
Charles held back, toying with her, tantalizing her by running his fingers over the hair-lined lips of her pussy, stroking the damp triangle of hair covering the vee of her crotch, but avoiding the button of passion that would send her over the brink of no return. His index finger slipped between her buttocks and traced through the tight, hot valley of her ass until, he reached the dark puckered entrance. His fingertip circled the center of her back entrance, massaging and probing, but it didn't enter until his thumb-tip had separated her tender inner lips and located the vaginal opening. And then, with a cruel thrust, he stabbed his finger and thumb deeply into her body, penetrating both her ass and cunt at the same time.
Brenda screamed as pain and pleasure mingled sadistically through her loins. She squirmed as his fingers skewered into both of her openings like hot knives cutting her passions free of any restraint, and fanning her into flames of desire. His fingers dove in and out until she thought surely that her insides would be literally ripped from her body. Letting go of her neck, Charles pulled her by asshole and cunt until her head was even with his knees. Then he rolled over on top of her and dangled his stiff penis and balls over her face as he maintained the rhythm of his finger. "Suck it," he ordered. "Lick my balls."
More than willing to comply, Brenda strained her face up between his legs and stuck her tongue out, laving the underside of his massive phallus and burying her nose in his scrotum. His huge balls pressed into her eyelids as she nuzzled her face into his crotch, feasting on his sex. She lifted her legs, wrapped her knees around his head, and pulled his face downward. Her efforts were rewarded by his replacing his thumb in her cunt with his mouth and tongue, although he kept his finger in her rear, still stabbing in and out, setting her back entrance on fire.
When he began nibbling the lips of her pussy, Brenda's eyes rolled back in her head and her whole body arched upward, bucking wildly, struggling to unleash the fury within her. His tongue darted inside her quivering vagina, lapping up her juices, bathing her flaming pussy with his mouth. She knew that in any second she would explode. Her hips churned into his face frantically.
One more second! Now ... now ... almost ... ooooohhhh! But just as she reached the place of fulfillment, he drew his head back and flipped her easily onto her stomach, with her head still entrenched between his legs, her need screaming in frustrated protest. "Finish me," she begged.
Charles only laughed and pressed her head to his cock with his hands. The position gave Brenda more freedom of movement and she lowered her head to his blood-engorged cock, eagerly sucking it between her lips and into her mouth. She ran her tongue over the shaft of his manhood like she was licking an ice cream cone. Its rich, fragrant taste delighted her and she tried to force it all the way into her cavernous mouth, but the lust-maddened purple head filled her mouth so fully that she couldn't swallow it all the way into her throat.
And then just as she felt she would be able to get his delicious organ farther into her mouth, it was jerked from her hungry lips and, dripping with her saliva, rammed deeply into her cunt with all the force of Charles' large, athletic body. He made absolutely no attempt to spare her pain. Charles rammed his iron-stiff rod into her unsuspecting pussy with the same deadly earnest he would stab a spear into an attacking tiger. And from Brenda he achieved the same result he would have from the tiger. An ear-shattering scream that started from the innermost depths of her soul, quivering faintly at first, and then with true realization of the pain, a quick intake of breath, followed by unbelievable volume and endurance. His cock reached home with deadly accuracy. His stallion-size organ ground to the center of her stomach, stretching the delicate walls of her vagina almost to the tearing point, and jammed its head deeply into her womb.
At first the pain burned through Brenda like a white-hot jolt of electricity, tearing away at her insides until the scream of pain squeezing her muscles was torn from her lips by the second bone-crushing thrust of Charles' hips. And then the pain gave way to the most thunderous eruption of physical ecstasy that she had ever experienced in her life. "YES! YES! I LOVE IT! I LOVE IT! FUCK ME! HARD!"
Charles didn't disappoint her. His hips pumped over her with furious abandon. He drove his cock into her with the speed and power of a jackhammer, over and over, until he felt his balls gathering up for a tremendous discharge of cum. His fists clenched and he screamed an obscenity as a thunderous ejaculation racked his body, and his massive tool pumped load after load of burning cum deeply into her womb.
When Brenda felt his hot cum shooting into her insides like a repeating cannon, her own orgasm exploded within her with equal intensity. Her nails raked down his back, leaving deep, bleeding trails, and her heels spurred feverishly into his back, "I'M CUMMING ... I'M CUMMING! OH, GOD, DON'T STOP!"
As Charles continued to fill her with his churning masthead, wave after blissful wave of sensuous orgasms drained her tension away.
When it was over they both lay depleted, basking in the tingling afterglow, and awed by the intensity they had both experienced. Neither of them spoke as they floated gently on the dying currents of water rocking their bed. Brenda blinked back tears in her eyes. Never had she believed that such an orgasm was possible. Never even in her most secret dreams had she thought that any man would ever be able to make her respond in such a manner. She relished the very weight of Charles above her.
It was only after he had rolled away from her and walked to the bar and mixed them some drinks that she began to see their lovemaking in a different light. With her tensions drained and her mind cleared, she began to question her ability to have that strong an orgasm without her emotions being manipulated. Instead of the tender feelings she had held for him, doubt and accusation began to creep into her mind. He felt nothing for her. He had only used her. She was right when she had called him a beast. Look at the sadistic way he had treated her. But then another voice argued with her that she had loved the way he had treated her and therefore shouldn't complain.
Charles walked naked back to the bed with their drinks, and handed one to her. She took it, avoiding his eyes, and held it in her lap. "I suppose," she said, "that you're proud of yourself now."
He sat down on the bed in front of her and crossed his legs. He took a sip of his drink, eyeing her critically before answering. Whatever mood he had been in now changed. "You got what you wanted," he said. "So now you're going to make a heavy out of me, huh?"
"You hypnotized me," she defended.
"Bullshit."
"Then why was it so ... so tremendous?"
"Maybe," he said, angry with her now, "because you just like a big stiff cock like every other woman I've known."
"You make it sound cheap ... like I was a whore or something." Brenda turned her face away from him. "You practically raped me, you know."
"I guess next you're going to tell me you were hypnotized seven years ago, too," Charles said, his ice-blue eyes watching her closely. "Well, let me tell you, sweetheart, that was a game we were playing. I've never hypnotized anyone in my life, then or any time since then, but if you want to think you were hypnotized to pacify your emotions, be my guest." He took a large swallow from his drink. "I thought you were different. I guess you're not. You like the action as much as I do, but you want to make it out as something bad-like rape."
Brenda turned around and faced him, tears clung to the corners of her eyes. "I didn't say you did rape me. I said you practically raped me."
"Same difference. You don't want to take any responsibility for your own actions. You want to be able to fuck anyone who comes along, but you don't want anyone to think that you wanted it so you call it almost rape."
Brenda burst into sobs and she covered her face with her hands, her shoulders racked with confusion and misery. "You could have hurt me the way you put it in me. You're mean and you don't care about anyone except yourself. You're sadistic, Charles Stern, and as long as you're that way, I don't want anything more to do with you."
Blinded now by her own tears, Brenda crawled sobbing from the bed and ran from the bedroom back to the dining area and began gathering up her clothes and putting them on. Charles followed her, his face angry, his muscles tensed and rippling. "That's right, run out on me again just the way you ran out seven years ago when it was over. You've had your fuck, now leave and when you go to sleep tonight you can tell yourself what an awful ordeal you were put through by a bad man." Charles threw his drink angrily at the wall, shattering the glass and splattering the wall with brooze.
Brenda flinched as the glass exploded against the wall. She covered her ears with her hands. Why was he acting this way ? Have I been wrong about him? Did he hypnotize me or didn't he? The confusion in her mind was more than she could sort out now. She needed to get away and think. She needed to talk to someone who could look at her problem objectively. And then she remembered she was to meet Sandy Treeman in the lounge. She looked at her watch. It was almost that time now. Sandy would be able to tell her what to do. "I don't want you to think I'm running out on you," she said, trying to undo the anger she had aroused in him. Was he angry because she had hurt him with her accusation or was he angry with her simply because his need had been satisfied and now he wanted her to get out?
Her mind spinning with questions, Brenda hurriedly finished dressing. She had no choice but to leave so she could meet Sandy, and she didn't think he deserved an explanation the way he was acting. She gathered up her purse and turned to him. "I have to go now," she said.
"Oh, yeah. Why?"
"It's really none of your business." She straightened her skirt and walked to the door leading into the living room. "Now, if you'll be good enough to unlock the front door for me, I'll leave." She turned around and marched through the door, across the still-darkened living room, and stood at the front door.
Charles followed her naked through the room and when he reached the door, he stopped and placed his hands on his hips with his legs slightly spread. "The door's not locked. It never has been." His smiled was angry.
"It is locked."
"Try it."
Brenda looked at him standing in the posture that twice before had turned her into a seething, sexual glutton and again, even after the release she had just gone through, her body began to betray her as she felt heat and desire begin to build within her. There was no doubt about it, he had a power over her. If it wasn't hypnosis, what was it? She felt fear stabbing icy fingers into her heart. He did have power over her! "I ... I don't think ... I mean, I don't want to see you, anymore," she said, the fear getting the best of her. She turned back to the door and twisted the handle. The door opened easily.
His angry voice made her turn once more and look at him. "It wasn't just for a quick fuck that I invited you up here for dinner. If that's all I wanted, I could get a hundred girls up here. I thought you were someone special, but I see all you were interested was a quick fuck-a little side action away from home. You've had my cock," his hypnotic voice droned, "and now you're going to go out and fuck the next man you see!"
Brenda gasped, her heart beating like a trip hammer in her breast. She slammed the big door, cutting him from her sight. She turned and stumbled toward the elevator, her eyes blinded by tears, her head ringing with his words. Before she could push the DOWN button on the elevator, its doors opened and Rifter stepped out. She pushed past him into the elevator and pressed the button for the lobby, but Rifter held the doors open.
"What's the matter," he sneared. "The boss' cock too big for you?" He cackled at his own joke, showing his broken, tobacco-stained teeth. "What you need is to try mine. I'll really show you a good time." He laughed again and removed his foot from the door. His laugh rang in Brenda's ears as the elevator slowly descended to the lobby.