Chapter 4

The lounge teemed with conventioners when Brenda arrived, her eyes dried the best she could under the circumstances. The hostess showed her to a small table in a dimmly lit corner of the noisy room. Brenda hoped that her face wasn't too smeared with makeup. She hadn't had time to go to her room first, in fear that she would miss Sandy. The waitress came over and Brenda ordered a gin and tonic. She opened her purse and checked her face and hair in her mirror. Her eyes were a little red, but other than that she didn't look too bad.

As her eyes adjusted to the faint light in the room, she checked the other patrons, carefully making sure that Sandy hadn't already arrived.

When her drink came, she sipped it gratefully and kept her eyes on the entrance.

Three drinks later and thirty minutes late, Sandy finally hurried into the lounge, her face glowing excitedly as she looked around the crowded bar. Brenda recognized her immediately. She stood up too quickly and spilled part of her drink as her thigh jiggled the table. She waved her arm and caught Sandy's attention.

"You've been crying," Sandy accused her as soon as she had seated herself across from her. "Don't tell me you're that glad to see me."

Brenda laughed in spite of herself and fought back a final tear that threatened to drip down her cheek. "You can't imagine how relieved I am to see you," she said.

"It can't be as bad as all that," Sandy laughed. "But there's one thing I can tell and that's whatever is bothering you has to have something to do with a man." Brenda opened her purse and took out a cigarette, lit it, and leaned back. "Now tell me what's been happening."

Brenda was so relieved to have someone to talk to that the words poured out of her as though a dam had burst inside her. She told her everything that had happened to her since arriving at the hotel early that evening, leaving nothing out. And when she was through talking, she felt drained of emotion, but nevertheless, better than she had felt since arriving.

"This Charles Stern sounds like quite a guy," Sandy said, turning and holding up a finger to the waitress. When another round of drinks came, Sandy held hers out in a toast. "To men," she said. "They make the world go 'round, they pay the bills, they keep us warm at night, and God bless them, they don't have the sense to figure us out." She sipped her drink and set it back on the table. "Now tell me more about this Charles Stern of yours."

"There's not much else to say. I think he has some kind of spell over me ... hypnosis maybe."

Sandy laughed, loudly clapping her hands together. "Do you really believe that?"

Brenda blushed at the way her friend put it. "Well, I don't know what else to believe." She reached out and grabbed Sandy's hands on top of the table. "Oh, Sandy, he treated me like I was a common ... whore." She looked down at her lap as Sandy drew her hands away from her. "I've never been treated like that before."

When Sandy spoke again, her words seemed different than before-cold almost. "It must have been terrible being treated like a nasty prostitute."

Brenda shook her head in agreement. "I felt so awful. So dirty like." She felt the tears coming again and blinked to keep them back, but it was no use. Tears streamed down her cheeks. "What should I do, Sandy?"

"Go home and leave Charles Stern to me. He sounds like someone I'd like to have in my bed."

"Oh, Sandy, don't joke about it. It's not something I can just forget about. Don't you understand? I think he has me under some sort of spell. I can't just forget about that. I'm afraid that he ... well ... might not be through with me."

"Yes," Sandy said dryly. "You've already mentioned your fear of being under his spell. If you're under a spell, it's the same kind of spell men have been putting women under for a long time." Sandy slid back from the table and stood up. "Take my advice. Go home and forget about it. Forget about the convention, too. Go back to this Ross of yours, get married and have a housefull of kids. That's the kind of thing girls like you are cut out for."

Brenda stood up too and reached out with her right hand and clung to her friend's arm. "I can't just leave and forget it. I ... I had hoped you would be able to help me."

Sandy sighed and patted her companion's arm. "All right. For old times' sake, I'll see if I can find out if your Mr. Stern has anything else in mind for you. Okay?"

Brenda nodded, grateful. "I knew you'd be able to help me."

Sandy smiled. "I'll be in touch."

Normally Sandy had no difficulty getting a rundown on men. She had a lot of connections and usually a couple of phone calls would produce all the information she would ever need about someone. With Charles Stern, however, she drew a blank. No one seemed to know anything about him. The only thing she could find out for certain was that he seemed to have plenty of everything he needed. He kept a suite at the hotel but was there only a few weeks out of the year. The rest of the time, no one knew where he resided.

Walking up to his door and ringing the buzzer wasn't Sandy's style. Anyone could do that. And anyone could have a door slammed in his face, too, she realized. Sandy didn't have doors slammed in her face. She would get in to see him, all right, but not by knocking on his front door. Sandy earned her free passes in the bedroom. Getting the kind of introduction to Charles Stern would be earned in the same way. And if this Charles Stern was anything like Brenda had said, her efforts would be more than repaid just to get a look at his cock. She had seen a lot of cocks in her business, but never one of the immense proportions that Brenda had mentioned.

So the first thing she needed was a key to his suite. It proved ridiculously easy. It took two and a half hours and the key traveled through three hands before it came to her. The cost to Sandy was the promise of one future roll in the hay to a fifty-five-year-old assistant night clerk. And then after a telephone call to his room and discovering that his suite was empty, Sandy was on her way.

She rode the elevator up, the excitement of an enjoyable night already stimulating the juices to flow hot and heavy in her body. She didn't know what she would do if she ran into anyone else in the apartment. She knew she was taking a chance of making a fool of herself. He could already have another girl in his bed, but she doubted if he would so soon after the sexual bout Brenda had described to her. Her plan was a simple one. And since simple plans always worked out best for her in the past, she felt fairly certain that this one would work, too. She had even done it several times in the past, although before she had always been paid for doing it. After all, what red-blooded American male wouldn't find it pleasant to come home and find a beautiful naked female waiting for him in his bed. Especially one like Charles Stern was supposed to be.

When the elevator stopped and the doors opened, Sandy crossed through the foyer with no more than a glance to ensure that no one was there to see her. She slipped the key quietly in the front door and opened it slowly. She stepped in and gently pressed the door closed behind her, making sure that the latch didn't make any sound to give her away, should someone be in the suite. She stood by the door until her eyes adjusted to the dim light that an aquarium cast about the large living room.

Holding her breath, she listened intently, but couldn't detect any sound of life. Encouraged, she moved on cat's feet, skirting furniture, across the room to the hall. She peeked into three empty rooms before she found the master bedroom at the end of the hall. His bed was the largest circular water bed she had ever seen. She let her breath out in a quiet whistle. A person could hold ,an orgy in a bed that large.

She reached her hands behind her back to unzip her dress, but the sound of the bedroom door slamming closed with an ear-shattering bang be hind her caused her hands to freeze at her neck. She spun around, her heart pounding. She could hardly believe her eyes. Standing with a gun in his right hand was the most magnificent male specimen she had ever seen naked. Her eyes traveled down his body until she reached the center of his spread legs. A quick intake of her breath gave away her surprise of seeing the largest male organ of her career. And suddenly the interest she had in Charles Stern changed from one of reluctant curiosity to help an old friend to one of greedy personal self-interest. She wanted his cock, erect, hot, and throbbing, buried in her pussy.

The bedroom door opened aagin and a second man stepped into the room. At first, Sandy could see only white, sparkling teeth and a white, lace shirt in the darkened room, but then she saw the man was a huge black man dressed in a tuxedo. The man gave her only a brief glance, then turned his head to Charles. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

"Fine," Charles answered. "I'm going to be just fine for a while. Call me when the chopper is ready, Frank."

Frank hesitated. "Are you sure you don't want me to get rid of her?"

Charles shook his head, smiling. "No, I think she needs to be interrogated."

This time Frank smiled. He turned and looked at Sandy again, clamly allowing his eyes to travel carefully over every inch of her body. "I think you're right," he said. "She definitely looks like she needs probing into." He opened the door be hind him, started to step out, hesitated, looked at Charles and said, "Don't stab her to death. It's getting harder and harder to get rid of bodies these days." He closed the door, cutting off the sound of his parting laughter.

Sandy hadn't moved during all of the time Frank had been in the room. She still stood with her hands frozen at the back of her neck, her fingers on the zipper of her dress. She wasn't sure what she had gotten herself into. Her heart raced; her mind spun with possibilities. Was Charles some kind of mafia boss? Or was she being had? Whatever the situation was, she had only one asset to barter with. Sex. And that was what she had come for, anyway. And under the circumstances, she knew she had better make it good.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Charles said, cocking his pistol and pointing it directly at her head. "If I don't get a damn good reason for your being here, you won't be going anywhere else."

Sandy felt her face drain and fear race into her stomach. My God! What could she say? But then her body and her profession took over for her. She appealed directly to the most basic need of his maleness. "I saw you in the lobby," she said simply. "I saw you and I wanted you."

Charles didn't change the aim of his gun or the pressure or his finger on the trigger. He reached for the light switch with his left hand and flipped it on, bathing Sandy and himself in light. "Then prove what you say," he said, his ice-blue eyes already removing her clothes.

"Strip!"

Sandy was more than eager to please. If her life depended on it, and she wasn't sure whether it did or not, she was certainly going to make it good. Her fingers pulled the zipper at her neck down below her shoulders and then changed her hands and pulled the zipper the rest of the way open until the back of her dress was separated all the way to the small of her back. She pulled the dress forward from her shoulders and let it fall away from her breasts. Next she hooked her thumbs inside the waist and pushed the dress down over her hips and let it fall to the floor in a heap around her ankles. She stepped out of it and kicked it aside.

She postured for him now like she had done for her John earlier in the evening. She kept her stomach sucked in and her breasts high. She ran her fingers through her dark hair and pushed it back from her face, allowing it to hang down her back so that it wouldn't hamper his view of her body. The pink tip of her tongue came out and moistened her lips. She tilted her chin up and looked deeply into his eyes, praying that he found her attractive.

Her prayer was unnecessary. Already she saw that his huge cock had erected itself into an iron-hard rod, ready to fill her more fully than she had ever before. A soft animal purr sang in her throat. Her hands went to her face and, with her palms lightly caressing her creamy, honey-tanned skin, slowly drew her palms down over her delicate young neck and between the deep valley of her mountainous breasts until her palms cupped their heavy succulence. She lifted them out and up and her fingers raked gently around the circumference of her nipples until their sensitive center stood jewel-hard against her fingertips. Sandy dug her fingers cruelly into the firm bulk of her breasts, masochistically torturing her passions, building herself to delirious desire for the pain that such gigantic phallus would bring. The thought of it made her cunt moist with desire. Her hips and body began to sway to a sensuous tune that she played in her mind. Dancing obscenely in front of him, keeping her hands on her breasts pulled free from the bra still around her chest, and her high-heeled shoes in one spot, she ground her hips slowly forward and back. Her nylon panty hose dug into the cleft of her pussy.

Maintaining a slow, sensuous rhythm with her hips, Sandy rotated her body so that her back exposed itself to Charles' eyes. Her hands left her breasts and reached behind her back to unfasten her bra. She drew her legs together until her ankles were less than six inches apart, then bent over at the waist and, as her bra fell free to the floor and allowed her breasts to swing naked, her hands traveled, fingertips together, down the curved ridge of her spine until they reached the top edge of her panty hose. Her palms caressed the firm mounds of her buttocks. Slowly she began to roll the waist of her panty hose down over her ass, exposing the center of her rear entrance to his view.

"You've shown me the target," Charles growled from behind her. "Now let's see if you can de liver."

Sandy pushed her stockings the remainder of the way down her legs, stepped out of them, straightened up, and turned around to face him. The gun was still pointed at her head. "Can't you point that thing somewhere else?" she asked.

He smiled. "The thought that my finger might slip and blow a bloody hole through your head excites me," he replied. "I think I'll leave it pointed where it is. What else do you have in mind?"

Sandy hesitated, not sure now whether she should continue or not. Did he want her, or didn't he? She knew for certain that she wanted him and the sight of his erect penis should indicate that. But maybe it was erect only because he was going to shoot her and that really was what was turning him on. Either way, Sandy's own desire was too great to stop. Her flaming passion urged her to continue and if she was going to be killed for it, then it would be one hell of a way to go.

Sandy's next action indicated she wasn't completely oblivious to the gun pointed at her head. She reasoned that if he wouldn't turn the gun away from where her head was now, maybe she could put her head in a place that he would turn the gun from. Slowly she sank to her knees and crawled across the distance between them until her head bowed directly in front of him. She turned her face up to him and rose slowly on her knees until his testicles touched her forehead.

Evidently the thought of his own penis being blown away didn't excite him for he no longer pointed the barrel of his pistol at her head. Instead he stood now with his legs spread and the hand holding the pistol pointed straight up in the air, his arm bent as though giving a turn signal, his left hand resting on his hip. "You're making good progress," he said. "Keep going."

Encouraged now, Sandy began bathing his balls and cock with her tongue. Her hungry mouth opened as wide as she could in order to suck one of his huge balls, causing her to hum with pleasure as its delicious taste permeated throughout her mouth. Her tongue caressed and laved first one of his massive balls and then the other. She took the skin of his scrotum between her teeth and nibbled greedily while she pressed her face against his crotch to caress the hard pole of his manhood back and forth with her cheeks. Her efforts were rewarded by his groan of pleasure.

She licked and sucked her way up the hot shaft of his rod until the purple crown slipped moistly between her hips. Cupping his heavy balls in her left palm, she attempted to encircle the base of his organ with the fingers of her right hand, but so large was his cock that she couldn't quite touch the tips of her fingers with the tip of her thumb. He could kill me with this, she thought. He didn't need the gun in his hand.

As his hot organ filled her mouth and throat, Sandy felt him beginning to thrust his hips forward. The shiny cockhead crammed into the back of her throat. She tried to take as much of his cock into her mouth as possible, but it filled her throat so full that she coudn't at first get it down. She swallowed and swallowed at each of his forward thrusts, but her throat wouldn't stretch large enough to accommodate him. It wasn't until he grabbed her hair with his left fist and held her head against the force of his tool that she was able to relax her throat muscles enough that his cock raped its way over her tongue and throat and buried itself in the passage to her stomach.

Pain seared through her throat like she had swallowed a hot branding iron as her throat stretched to its maximum capacity. At first she thought she would be unable to breathe as his erection pumped lustfully and lewdly in and out of her mouth, but as she relaxed her throat more and more, she discovered that she could suck in air during his out strokes and be set to enjoy his painfully delicious forward thrusts. She nursed greedily at his body.

Suddenly he jerked his massive cock, dripping with saliva, from her mouth and, using her face and hair like a towel, wiped his sex dry of lubrication. "You're going to know you've been fucked when I'm through," he said, stepping forward with his left leg and hooking his right foot under her crotch. Because of the forward movement of his body, Sandy was forced to cling to his right leg to keep from falling backward. She felt the big toe of his right foot stab between the lips of her vagina and enter the center of her delicate passageway. The contact with his toe and pussy shot electrical messages of sensual promise rocketing through her body screaming for release. Then just as suddenly, her cunt exploded into excruciating pain as he lashed out with his foot, lifting her bodily into the air as though he were tossing a ball. Her pussy felt like his whole foot had buried itself inside her hair-lined lips as she sailed helplessly through the air and landed in a tangled heap on the water bed.

She expected him to follow her and take her on the bed, but when she rolled over on her back and looked, he had strolled over to a large, leather couch against the wall and sat down with his legs spread and his feet resting on the seat on either side of him so that his lust-stiffened cock rose up like a thick lance between his legs. He pointed his gun again, this time at her dripping pussy. "Crawl over here, bitch."

She was afraid not to do as he ordered. Her fear didn't come from his pistol, but from the fear that if she didn't heed to his commands, he would not use the electrifying member between his legs. She crawled like a whimpering puppy across the room and knelt at the feet of her master. "TAKE ME!" she pleaded. "FUCK ME."

He ignored her and took his time toying with her need of him. Leaning back on the couch and resting his elbows on the back rest, his gun hanging limply in his hand, he lifted his right foot to her mouth. "Suck my toes," he ordered. "They're sticky with your pussy juice. Lick them clean."

She hesitated only a moment-only until she saw his right wrist with the gun in it flick the barrel in the direction of her chest. She sucked his toes, running her tongue over them and sucking the juice left from her cunt into her mouth and swallowing it down into her stomach. When she had finished his right foot, he held out the toes of his left and ordered her to repeat the process. She complied quickly.

While she sucked the toes of his left foot, her face hidden from his view by her hair spilled at his feet, and her knees and elbows supporting her weight, Charles wiped his right foot on her back and sides, curling his toes and raking his nails into her delicate skin. She moaned from the pain, but didn't stop doing his bidding. And then she felt herself propelled backward by his left foot as he curled the big toe in her mouth upward, lifted until her head was pulled upright like a fish on a hook and then pushed .with the sole of his foot against her face. She tumbled onto her back with her arms thrown out to the side, and her knees spread open.

She stared up at him dazed. She lifted herself to her elbows and tried to sit up, but he pushed her back down. "Scoot closer," he ordered. "Stay on your back."

She did as he ordered. Using only his feet, he began to run his toes over her breasts and stomach, caressing and tweaking her ripples as one would use his fingers. The degradation of having a man literally wiping his feet on her increased the need that Sandy felt for him more than anything had ever done before. The very essence of her sensuality burst to life, demanding the release of orgasm. She quivered passionately under the probing of his toes.

"Roll over," he ordered, jamming the large toe of his right foot into her cunt and poking her in the ribs with the large toe of his left foot. He kept his toe in her pussy while she rolled over, the toe creating a corkscrew effect on the inside of her lubricated love nest as she obeyed his wishes.

Once on her stomach, she rested her shoulders and the left side of her face on the carpet, her arms tucked under her breasts and her rear sticking up in the air in the submissive gesture of a cat. He kept a toe in her cunt and now ad ,'d a toe to her rear entrance as well. She moaned under the twin proddings of his toe. "Don't stop," she begged. "I love it. Ooooohhhh ... I love it."

Impatient now, Charles slid from the couch to his knees and placed the shaft of his organ against her ass and began working his hips back and forth in a grinding motion while, with his hands, he drew her long hair back from her head and began twisting it into a thick ropelike strand. Next he pulled both of her arms from under her and twisted them painfully up to the center of her back. Using the strand of her own hair that he had twisted together, he wrapped her hands tightly with it until she was tied helplessly under him with her head pulled back like a pony harness.

The pain in Sandy's arms and neck brought tears to her eyes. Lying on the carpet with her breasts and knees supporting her and her ass sticking Up in the air, she couldn't see what Charles was doing. She felt the shaft of his cock sliding along the valley between her buttocks. And then she felt his swollen head poking at the tight puckered entrance between her cheeks. She squirmed her hips to try to get his aim down lower to the entrance of her cunt, but that wasn't what he was after.

"Hold still," he ordered, grabbing a buttock in each hand and separating them so that his lance aimed directly into the tight center of her rear. He pressed his tool against the opening and pushed. Her scream of pain echoed around the room as his punishing prod penetrated her quivering rectum.

"Not there!" she screamed. "You are too big. No! No. No! Stop. For God's sake, don't push it in any further. You'll tear me apart."

She heard his laugh above her. "You haven't even taken a third of it yet. You're going to get it all." She felt his monstrosity being forced deeper into her tightly clenched ass and she was powerless to stop him from violating her small opening. The pain that burned through her was more than she had believed possible. His tool felt like burning metal being crammed slowly up her rear, getting larger and larger the further up her ass it went. She bit into her lower lip and blinked her eyes against the pain, but she couldn't stop it from searing and tearing its way deeper and deeper, slowly filling her so completely that she thought surely at any moment the delicate membrane of her passageway would be shredded into a thousand torn fragments.

She struggled to pull her hands free of their bonds in order to push him away and escape the pain burrowing steadily deeper into her body, but her struggle only pulled her hair tighter around her wrists and stretched her head so far backward that she was afraid she was going to break her neck. "Please," she begged. "Stop!"

Instead of stopping, Charles continued the slow, millimeter by millimeter penetration, stretching and raping his weapon deeper and deeper until Sandy feared she would pass out with the pain. And then he stopped. Relief flooded through Sandy. She hadn't believed it possible, but she had taken it all. Her breath came in deep, racking sobs. She hurt, she felt proud that she had managed to accommodate all of him. Carefully she wiggled her hips back against his cock. The pain she had felt earlier began to be replaced by pleasure as her nerve center calmed itself to the joy of complete penetration.

Her joy was short lived. As she wiggled back against him, she realized that she couldn't feel his stomach or hips against her rear. And then she heard his words, "You've taken half of it, now get ready for the other half." She had a short time to get ready. With one mighty thrust of his hips, Charles crammed his cock the remainder of the way into her burning ass. She felt as though a huge stick of dynamite had exploded inside her guts, her head pounding and white spots dancing dizzily in front of her eyes. Her breath froze in her throat. And while the pain immobilized her, she felt Charles begin pumping his massive organ in and out of her, reaming her out like a piston, his polished head tearing along the walls of her rectum.

At first the pain seared so excruciatingly through her body that her teeth bit deeply into her lower lip and she tasted the tartness of her own blood, but as his cock continued to punish her, the pain slowly gave way to that strange lusting for hurt that built up like an approaching storm. Her loins throbbed a message of lust as the pink membrance of her puckered hole was pulled in and out by his invading phallus. Pain and pleasure became mixed. She closed her eyes and concentrated on feeling, on relaxing her muscles and giving in to the demands of his body and hers. And then suddenly she felt herself riding up on a crest of sensual bliss that threatened to explode in her loins like molten lava. His pace quickened and she knew he was reaching the top as well.

And then suddenly she was jerked bodily from the carpet, lifted into the air by the harness of her hair and pinioned like a tied animal, and carried across the room to the water bed, his thick shaft supporting her hips and keeping her feet from reaching the ground. She was thrown on the bed with Charles on top of her, never removing himself from his cruel union.

As Charles resumed pumping into her, his right hand with the pistol in it reached around her right thigh. He stuck the muzzle of his pistol between the steaming lips of her cunt and stabbed the circular and around the base of her erect clitoris. "Get ready," he said. "You're going to get it all."

With the button of her desire sticking inside the barrel of a gun, Sandy's smoldering pussy exploded into a life of its own. The triangular jungle of dark curls matted between her legs dripped with sparkling droplets of delicious lubricants. Her lips enveloped the gun's muzzle, coaxing it to aim its venom at her lustful center. "Shoot me!" she screamed. "Screw me ... fuck me!" Her pussy sucked and pulled on the gun. Release was so close. A few more strokes and she would be there.

Charles hunched his hips and stabbed the barrel of his gun into her with the uncontrolled passion of a madman. His eyes, however, calmly belied the frantic motions of his body-each thrust of his powerful hips and each stab into the pink lips of her pussy was carefully calculated to achieve the maximum effect both for her and himself. Charles' huge balls churned with cum, ready to explode into her waiting cavity. "In one second I'm going to blow you to hell," he said, giving an extra hard, savage thrust into her cunt with the pistol.

Sandy exploded into a body-wrenching climax that, despite her bonds, almost threw them both from the bed. "I'M CUMMMMING! AGGGGGGGGHHHHHH! DON'T STOP! OOOOOHHHHHHH ... HARDER, HARDER!"

Charles' thrusting cock blasted load after load of cum into her burning ass. He bucked and churned into her rear as his climax wrenched his body in an even greater intensity than hers. Load after passion-filled load shot into her ass until her rectum was so filled with white sticky cum that it flowed out and dripped down his balls and down her thighs as his testicles slapped against her with each of his forward thrusts.

As the last shudderings of her climax died away, Sandy lay exhausted on the bed. She wouldn't have believed it possible to achieve an orgasm of such intensity from so much pain. It had been the greatest experience of her life. She loved it. She enjoyed the cruel position of being dominated by a man of his obvious success. Here was a man who truly rated a woman of special talents. Not someone like Brenda Martin!

Sandy sighed as Charles pulled his flaccid cock slowly from her ass and let it drip wetly down her right leg. Brenda Martin would never have been able to take a cock like his in her ass. Sandy laughed silently at the thought. No. What Charles needed was someone like herself who knew how to please a man like him.

When Charles removed the pistol from her cunt, he looked at the barrel covered by her juices. "Sure fucked this up." He stood up and crossed the room to a large closet, leaving Sandy prostrated on her stomach with her hands still harnessed behind her back. She turned her head to watch him. He removed a valise-shaped case from a shelf and brought it back to the bed. He drew a chair along side of the bed and sat down, resting his feet on the floating mattress beside her. "Your name is Sandy Treeman. You are twenty-six years old. You're an old friend of Brenda Martin who you saw in the bar downstairs not more than a few hours ago. You're a prostitute by occupation and you owe an assistant night manager I know a blow job. And for some reason, you break into people's apartments." He opened the case he held in his lap and took out a clean rag and began wiping the barrel of his pistol. "Can you give me one good reason why I shouldn't blow the top of your head off when I get this gun clean?"

The fact that he knew so much about her, and had gotten the information so rapidly, startled her. Especially since she had tried to get the same kind of information about him and had failed. And for God's sake, would he really shoot her? "Someone would hear you," she said. "They would come and find you."

He smiled back at her. "You're right. That's one good reason." He looked down at his gun and continued cleaning it. Sandy sighed. "Will you untie me?"

"Not yet." He continued cleaning his gun. He took it apart and oiled all the parts and put them back together. She didn't see any bullets. He cocked the trigger and looked down the barrel, checking its cleanliness. Then he turned the gun around and squeezed the trigger several times and listened to the sound of it clicking on empty chambers. He pointed the gun at her and pulled the trigger a couple of times. He smiled.

"You mean it wasn't loaded?" she asked.

"Who said it wasn't loaded?"

"I didn't see any bullets?"

He looked into the box on his lap and poked around with one finger. Reaching in, he pulled out a bullet. He plugged it into the gun. "That's a bullet," he said simply. He placed the pistol in the case and closed it. "Now," he said, leaning back, "are you supposed to tell me anything?"

He seemed surprised when she shook her head. "Then you really just came up for a fuck?"

That's not the way she would have preferred it being put, but yes. "I wanted to meet you," she said. Brenda was afraid he had a spell over her, but she knew that was bullshit. She had really come up out of curiosity. "I heard about you ... uh ... how big you are."

Charles snorted. "I won't buy that"

"Will you untie me please?"

"Not yet. Not until you tell me the truth. You came up here because Brenda Martin asked you to. She was in my apartment earlier. We argued. She thinks I hypnotized her and then seduced her, which is crap. But that's why you're up here, isn't it?"

She nodded. "At first maybe, but not later," She turned her head to try and relieve the tension on her neck. "Now, will you untie me?"

He leaned forward and untied the hair around her wrists. "Why not? You've done your job. You've found out I'm a mean s.o.b. that's certainly capable of doing almost anything to a young lady." He removed the case from his lap and set it on the floor and stood up. "You can get dressed and go now. I'm sure Miss Martin will pay you for your services."

Sandy's ears stung. He had it all wrong and now he was dismissing her like a child. When she attempted to roll over, her arms hung useless at her sides. She sat up awkwardly and felt the blood tingling back into her numb arms, stabbing her with tiny needles of pain. He collected her clothes from the floor and tossed them onto her lap. She dressed with her back to him. She didn't know what to say to make things right. He took her arm and led her to the door.

"It's been fun," he said dryly. And then she was in the foyer by the elevator with no place to go except down.