Chapter 1
It was a hot day and the natives were spilled out over into the streets.
When the Jamaican sun beat down like this in the summer, people became more lazy. Perhaps it was for the best. They didn't need the rush and bustle of New York life, despite the fact that some of them dreamed of it.
Claudja Jones was seventeen years old. She was tall and slender, yet she was big-boned and strong. For the slenderness of her body, she had broad shoulders and large, full breasts. Her hips were full, too.
She was fully developed.
It was too hot a day for her. She didn't like the way the summer heat caused her panties to stick to her private parts.
"I'm damp down there," she exclaimed, feeling the material stick to her sweating cuntal area.
"Take your panties off, then," her girlfriend Grace told her.
"Here in the street?”
"Where else?" Grace replied.
A sly look came to Claudja's beautiful face. She loved to play games — especially sex games. Suddenly she had some ideas.
She pulled up her flared skirt and reached under, finding the waistband of her panties and pulling them down over her luscious form.
Her legs were tanned, like the rest of her. She was black, but she had some European blood in her, too. That combination accounted for her rare, exotic appeal.
Her hair was long and free-flowing when she flicked her head around like a spunky pony. Her features were bold, with a wide nose and full lips, but her eyes were blue-green in color.
"Oh, girl," Grace exclaimed as Claudja removed her panties by pulling them over her feet. "Look at you.”
Her skirt was raised and her brown body seemed bronzed in the glow of the sun. Heat was radiating off it, and a droplet of girl-sweat dripped off the shiny black curls which surrounded her honey pot.
She still had that look in her eye. It was a glint which said that she was out for some stimulation. She held her dampened panties in her hand.
"You have to help me," she told Grace.
"I don't know. When you get that look on your face, I ... ”
"Don't be a spoil-sport. Do what I tell you and you'll have a good time.”
Claudja took Grace to a place she knew where the men who toiled in the fields would go after a day's work. Here they could drink, relax, and get over the heat of the day.
Claudja gave Grace her moistened panties.
"Climb up that ladder and get up on the roof. From there you'll be able to see the guys who come out of the club. You'll be directly over them.”
"But what do you want me to do with these panties?”
"You'll see. I want you to drop them down when the time is right. Drop my wet panties right on the head of the guy who I talk to. It'll be fun.”
"Claudja, are you sick! That's disgusting.”
"He'll love it. I don't even know who he is yet, but I know he'll love it.”
"It seems so, I don't know, so perverted to do that. It's almost like you hate the guy, even before you've given him a chance. I mean, dropping your wet panties on a man's head could be fun for him, but it seems like a slap in the face, in a way, too.”
"That's exactly what some of these guys need. They're too damn sure of themselves. They'll have to learn that a woman can be boss.”
"Are you a sadistic lover?" Grace asked her friend. She had recently heard the term.
"What does that mean?" Claudja asked.
"Well, I don't know exactly. But it has something to do with dominating people. You know, making them do what you want them to do. Treating them like shit.”
A broad smile came to Claudja's lips and her teeth showed pearly white against the tan of her face.
"Yeah, that's right. Treat 'em like shit. Rub it in their faces.”
Grace felt a shiver go up and down her spine. Other friends who did not like Claudja had warned Grace about her. They said that there was something funny about her something they couldn't quite put their finger on.
Maybe, as Grace now sensed, it had something to do with lesbianism as well as domination. If Claudja hated men so much, maybe ...
Claudja snapped out of it. She had been standing with a dazed look on her face. Her eyes were gleaming and so were her teeth as she held her expression and wondered about what she was. At seventeen, even she was unsure.
But as she thought about it, her cunt became hot, and she reached down absentmindedly and scratched a long fingernail in the curly pubic mound surrounding her core.
"Go on now, get up there and do as I tell you," she snapped at Grace.
Grace looked at her strangely. She didn't at all enjoy being told what to do in this manner. She wasn't getting anything out of dropping Claudja's soiled undies down on a man's head. This was all Claudja's scheme, and she really wanted no part in it.
Still, as much as she resented Claudja's manner, she felt compelled to obey.
She rationalized it all to herself. After this time, she would rid herself of Claudja. The other girls were probably right. There was something about Claudja — something sexual - and it was the kind of thing she wanted to keep away from.
But she didn't want to risk offending Claudja now. All she wanted was to get away from her, but she would have to play her cards right, or else she would really be in a bind.
She remembered what had happened to another friend, Cecily, when Cecily had refused to take part in Claudja's plan to do some other kind of negative scene some tune before. Poor Cecily had been trussed up with her own nylons!
That's right! It came back to Grace now. She knew that Cecily loved those nylon stockings. They were not easy to come by in Jamaica. They had been imported.
And then they were wrapped around Cecily's breasts, tightly. Her hands had been tied behind her, fastened at the wrists. Claudja was a vixen.
"Go on, get up there," Claudja repeated. "I hear someone coming out of the place now.”
There was no getting out of it now. Grace climbed the ladder up to the roof, holding on when the ladder shifted back and forth unsteadily.
She held the wet panties in her hand.
Claudja stood a few feet from the doorway, awaiting her prey. A big, black man came out. He was still sweating, even after his drinks, and his skin was so dark, it was shining like ebony.
Claudja stood back and struck the kind of pose one might see in the girlie magazines. She raised her skirt and undulated her naked cunny.
"Holy shit," the man gasped, seeing the vision of the gorgeous seventeen-year-old, brazenly and invitingly showing her bare pussy.
Claudja ran her tongue around her lips. Her tongue muscle was pink and wet.
"You like what you see, big boy," she said, glancing down at her nakedness.
The man, turned on by her unique boldness, grabbed his huge cock through his pants and squeezed.
"My dick is getting hard for it," he rasped. "Let me take you behind this shack and fuck the brazen hell of you, girl," he said.
"Oh, mister, you can look, but don't touch. You'll have to pay me for touching.”
"You whore," he snarled. "I'll show you.”
"Drop it!" Claudja yelled, and from above, where she had been watching this scene, Grace let the panties fall from her fingers.
It was a perfect aim! The wet panties hit him on the head.
He didn't know what was going on. The smelly panties startled him when they were dropped from above like that.
This gave Claudja her chance to jump in. Rather than having played her little trick and then run away, she wanted to get the full benefit of her fun and she jumped on the man.
She pulled her underpants down from his head so that the crotch, wet with her girlish cuntal cream and private sweat, was directly on his face.
"You pig," she hissed at him.
The scent of her cunt on his face would have been pleasure under other circumstances. Even now, he would go home and jerk off thinking about this, but as it happened, he could express only confusion and then anger.
She rubbed the silky material into his nose.
The scent of her pussy fluids stuck to his face.
Claudja pulled her knee up and gave the man a swift kick in his groin. The .kick landed in his balls, just where she aimed it, and he doubled over in pain.
"I'll get you for this, you brazen bitch," she said as he held himself.
"Fuck you, black shit," Claudja snarled. "You'll never get me. Neither you nor your fucking friends will get me.”
And with that, she ran away, leaving the man in pain, and Grace, still on the roof.
Grace cursed Claudja under her breath. She knew that she shouldn't have allowed herself to get stuck on this roof like this. She knew that she shouldn't have gotten involved with Claudja at all. Now she was stuck up on the roof.
The man must have felt her presence, or perhaps he just thought to look up and see where the panties had dropped from.
"So, there's an accomplice!" the man shouted.
"No, there's a mistake,*' Grace moaned.
"There's no mistake," he said.
Grace couldn't start down the ladder. She couldn't escape any other way, either.
She was afraid that the man would pull the ladder away, leaving her stuck on the roof, but it was worse than that.
He started up the ladder himself, taking large steps, getting up to the top before Grace even had a moment to think.
He pounced on her. He was hot from the stimulation of Claudja. He wanted Claudja, put he would settle for her accomplice. He pressed his strong body into her body and she felt the heat and the anger of him.
He had been turned on and humiliated. That combination led him to want to take it all out on Grace and that was exactly what he intended to do. He was ready to take it out on Grace's young cunt.
"No, no, don't," she pleaded, trying in vain to push him away.
He was on top of her, ripping savagely at her clothing, tearing it away and baring her cunt.
Tin a virgin," she cried.
His eyes lit up. These were the words he wanted to hear.
She did not discourage him from taking out his savage lusts on her by telling him of her virginity. Rather, she turned him on even more and he pawed at her breasts as he drooled for her cunt.
His cock was stiff and bared, now. He pressed and poked it around her cuntal realm, making her squirm.
She did everything she could to push him off, but it was no use. He forced his way inside of her.
She screamed, but he silenced her with his mouth on top of her mouth. He forced his tongue down her throat and she bit at it.
This didn't stop him. It only made him more determined to fuck the shit out of her. He rammed his stiff dick all the way in, taking her cherry there on the roof in one harsh and painful stroke.
They both thought of Claudja as the rape took place. Her image came into each of their heads. Grace envisioned the laughing girl, throwing her head back and having a laugh at Grace's expense. She suddenly hated Claudja and wanted only to hurt her.
She wished that it was Claudja's pussy which was feeling this invader now.
As for the rapist, he was getting his revenge. He envisioned the sight of Claudja with her skirt pulled up and her naked pussy inviting him.
He imagined that he was fucking some discipline into her cunt as he rape-fucked her friend Grace.
At home once again, Claudja thought about all that happened and she laughed.
She did indeed derive sadistic delight in humiliating men, and she could feel that delight way up in her cunt.
She was on her back, on her bed, with her fingers inside of her hole. She felt the thin membrane which defined her virginity, and she ran her finger, gently, over it.
She wanted to protect that maidenhead. She didn't have a desire for sex. She didn't want to make love with a man.
But she did enjoy her fantasies, and was willing to wait before she experienced her true desires of sex which were desires of domination. She thought about what she had created by leaving Grace stuck on the roof with the humiliated man buzzing about below like an angry bee.
She knew that the ladder was the easy link between Grace and-the man, and she didn't have any pangs of conscience about any of it.
That was just it. She was a hard-hearted bitch and she enjoyed the fact that she could have such power. Thinking about what might be happening to Grace made Claudja hot. She played inside of her cunt, feeling the juices drip from the lips.
She thought about the man raping Grace, which was exactly what was taking place. She felt responsible for it all, and that was her orgasm - to have been in a strange way responsible for getting the two together for savage, violent sex.
She knew that Grace would probably cut their friendship abruptly short after this incident, but she didn't really care.
She dreamed about dominating them both with a whip, striking the man on his naked back and buttocks as she directed the length, depth and speed of his fuck strokes.
That was her fantasy, and as she thought about humiliating both the man and her friend, she felt the uncontrollable quivers which soon quaked in multiple climaxes for her.
"Ohhhhhh," she moaned. "It feels so good.”
But up on a Jamaican rooftop, a girl had been raped.
Oceans away, a New York socialite named Marjorie Lloyd was pacing the floor. She was complaining to her husband, a young professional lawyer who spent much of his time away from home.
"The help situation is just too much," she said. "This is the third maid we've had in a month, and again, I had to fire her.”
"Do you think that maybe it could be something you do that sets these women off?" her husband Corbett asked.
"What are you talking about?”
"Well, I don't know, you say that these maids are good for nothing and they sass you back when you give them commands. Maybe that's it. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you give them commands. Can't you tell them what to do in a nice, friendly manner? I mean, I don't think that they have the nicest or easiest of jobs. You should try to see their side of it and help them out a little.”
"As if I had nothing better to do!" Marjorie snapped.
"I didn't mean that," Corbett said, soothing her flared temper, although, with the large allowance he gave her, there was little that she had to do. She didn't have to go out and earn money, and she didn't have to do the cooking because they had a maid for that. The cleaning, too. But the problem was that they were losing maids right and left. They couldn't get any to stay.
"It's not me," Marjorie insisted. "There's a problem about getting good help these days. It's just impossible. That first woman we had, Mrs. Kane, didn't want to do a damn tiling. I told her to clean the toilet, and she was offended.”
"Did you tell her to clean it „ with her tongue?" Corbett asked with a grin.
"Corbett, take this seriously," Marjorie said.
"You're always making fun of me.”
"I was just asking.”
"Then that one, Constance. She talked back to me. I gave her orders and she was just so sassy. She said she wouldn't do all the work I had assigned her. She had the nerve to tell me that she didn't like my attitude. Can you believe it? She was telling me, and I'm supposed to be the mistress of this household.”
"Well, you can't blame these people, honey," Corbett said. "They're not making a fortune in our employ by any means.”
"We pay just what the agency advises and not a penny less," Marjorie said, although it was not her money paying it "Yes, but cleaning other people's toilets is not my idea of an ideal job.”
"Oh, and then there was that one who wanted to take over. She was nice enough, but she wouldn't let me be the mistress of my own house. She wanted to run everything. I think she was after you. She thought that if she cooked and cleaned to perfection, she could snag you and get your money," Marjorie said. "Or your cock, or something," she added in afterthought.
"Well, I wanted none of her. I only want you. And I want you to be happy so tomorrow you can call the agency and they'll send another maid.”
"I wonder what it would be like to have a male housekeeper. They have a few of those at the agency, you know.”
"I don't think so, honey," Corbett said. "I'll gladly pay for a woman to do the work around the apartment, but I do mean a woman. I'm not going to be foolish enough to invite some able-bodied man into my home and have you with him all day long while I toiled like crazy in that courtroom. No way.”
"That's what I wanted to hear," Marjorie said, snuggling up close to him and pressing her breasts into his chest as she arched her cunt into his crotch.
She kissed him on the neck, over and over, working her way up to his ear which she next took into her mouth, biting the lobe.
"You like it when I get jealous, don't you?" Corbett smiled, holding her.
"I like to know that you're interested in me," she cooed.
"Yeah, I'm interested in you. Let's fuck. I've had a hard day in the courtroom and I could use the release of some of this tension.”
She pulled away.
"You always do this," she complained, fixing the curl in the front of her blond head of hair, and straightening out the wrinkles in her expensive, tailored suit.
"Do what? You get close to me, tease the hell out of me, get me hard and then ... ”
"That's just it," she shot back. "And then. There doesn't have to be a 'and then.' I'm just showing you a little affection. But you take it as sex. You're an animal. You're a sex-crazed beast.”
"Ah, shit," Corbett cursed. He was used to this treatment.
He wasn't going to argue with her this time. He wasn't going to tell her that when she snuggled her braless boobs up against him after a long day at work it was hardly being a sex-crazed beast to want to fuck her.
He had been through this all with her many times before. In fact, it seemed that they ended up like this more often than not nowadays. In the beginning, in the first days of their marriage, it had been much more rosy and loving. But now, every time they started to get close to sex, it seemed that Marjorie would have a headache, or even worse, some angry excuse about his being a sex maniac.
It just didn't make sense.
He was frustrated, and wanted to have sex with her, but it seemed to get worse and worse. He wasn't sure what she needed or what she wanted to get the bug out of her ass. So he got his rocks off with pay-for-play girls during the long lunch breaks called in the courtroom. There were always women hustling their cunts around the vicinity of the courthouse. Some of them had been taken in and had appeared before the judges only to be fucked by the very same judges later in the day, on a pay for play arrangement.
Figuring that he had set her off by suggesting that her 'attitude might be responsible for the high rate of poor hired help, Corbett decided that the only thing to do was to forget about it and allow her to try out somebody new from the employment agency.
After a night without sex, Corbett wasn't feeling great in the morning, but Marjorie behaved as if nothing had happened the night before.
Actually, nothing unusual had happened the night before. Irritability was a regular thing for her now. She was missing something in her life and it was something that she, apparently, could not get from her husband. Or perhaps she just didn't want it from him.
Even she didn't know what this something might be.
But she would soon find out.
Her life was going to change completely. She didn't know it yet but fate was playing a little game on her.