Chapter 1
"Damit!" If you don't tell me who's calling I'm going to hang up!"
Harry Appleton smiled obscenely as he listened to the irritated female voice at the other end of the telephone. He was sprawled in an old overstuffed chair, the telephone cradled between his check and shoulder, one long leg hooked over the chair's dirt-encrusted arm. In his left hand he held a tattered copy of a magazine that was open at the center-fold. His avid eyes scanned the glossy color photograph of a naked young girl kneeling on the floor, her heavy breasts pressed flat against the carpet while her fingers reached around her body to pull the pendulous buttocks apart and expose her puckered little anal opening hairless and brownish-red. His other hand lovingly massaged the swollen cock that jutted out from his unzipped jeans.
"George, is that you?" the woman on the telephone asked, a note of fright creeping into her voice and replacing the previous irritation. "Is this another one of your jokes, George?"
Harry smiled again and cleared his throat. He could tell that the nervous woman was about to hang up on him and he didn't want to loose the connection.
"Is this Miss Watkins? Sarah Watkins?" he asked, pitching his voice low. There was almost no chance that she would recognize his voice from their one brief meeting, he knew, but he was going to take no chances.
"Yes, this is Sarah Watkins," the woman answered, a little puzzled now. "Who's calling please?"
"You don't know me, Sarah," Harry said quietly, without a trace of emotion even though his heart was thudding wildly in his chest. "No, you don't know me at all."
"What is it you want then?"
He choked down a lewd laugh as he stared at the photograph of the obscenely posed girl in the magazine When he let his mind roam freely as he often did, he could almost imagine that the girl was here in the room with him, moving her luscious ass around in provocative circles while she begged him to shove his lust-hardened cock up into her tightly-puckered ass-hole. His fingers grasped his penis in a vice-grip as the woman on the telephone interrupted his obscene reveries by speaking again this time more urgently.
"If you don't tell my what you want right now I'm going to hang up!"
Harry threw the magazine onto the floor and sat up straight, a fierce glow in his eyes. He licked his dry lips with his tongue as he cleared his throat again.
"I want to fuck your ass-hole, baby," he almost screamed into the telephone. "I want to shove my cock up into that tight little hold and make you scream for fucking mercy! And I'm going to! Just you wait and see!"
There was a horrified gasp at the other end of the line as he paused for a moment, and then, the thunderous noise of the telephone receiver being banged down and the dial tone.
Harry chuckled to himself as he listened to the signal for a few moments and then gently replaced the telephone down on its cradle. He could feel the scalding semen gathering in his testicles as his fingers raced up and down the thick shaft of his cock, pulling lewdly at the raw flesh in an excited attempt to milk up the life fluid until it spewed madly out of the dilated tip of his massive prick.
"Uuunnngghhhhh ... aaaaagggghhhh ... oh Jesus, I'm going to come ... AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!" he cried as his thin body suddenly went rigid and torrents of creamy-white sperm shot out the end of his penis and fell to the threadbare carpet. His eyes were bulging now, straining and bloodshot, and his legs trembled as the semen continued to pour out.
Then, with a low animal-like groan, he released his cock from his fingers and relaxed. His lank hair fell across his blurred eyes and spittle oozed out from one corner of his mouth and ran down his chin. Harry made no move to wipe it away.
"Wait'll I shoot a load of that into your ass-hole!" he said to the empty room, imagining that Sarah Watkins was kneeling in front of him. "I'm gonna blow my nuts in you, baby! I'm gonna blow 'em so fucking hard my come'll be shooting out your mouth!"
He laughed loudly at his own humor as he felt his satiated prick begin to deflate slowly. He could see the blood-gorged veins still thick and rope-like along the enormous shaft, the rubbery purplish knobhead. and the reddened flesh that was rubbed almost raw by his urgent fingers.
As he continued to sit in the chair and let his breathing return to normal, Harry tried to remember the first time he had seen the lovely Sarah Watkins. It had been only a few days ago in the nearby supermarket on Sunset Boulevard. He had spotted her as she pushed a cart of groceries around the store. It had been a very warm day and the young woman was dressed comfortably in a skimpy halter and cut-offs. Her long blonde hair flowed sensuously down over her almost naked breasts that strained against the thin material, and her flaring and ripe young buttocks and long gorgeous legs left him almost breathless. He had followed her around the store, his cock threatening to burst his tight jeans, his eager eye taking in every luscious detail of the voluptuous body. Her own cut-off jeans were so tight that he could see the way they molded perfectly to her swaying ass-cheeks, and he almost fell into a grocery display when she bent down to take a can off a lower shelf. The backs of her thighs were pink-brown and he could see the rippling muscles just under the flesh.
Shaken by the erotic thoughts that raced through his fevered brain, Harry had followed her to the checkout counter and been rewarded with a glimpse of her check as she wrote it out and handed it to the cashier. The name and address were etched indelibly in his mind, along with the telephone number printed beneath them.
He wanted to press against her to pretend that the obscene movement was only an accident but there was no one behind him and he couldn't risk it. Instead, he watched with mounting lust as she wheeled the bagged groceries to the parking lot and got into an expensive sports car and drove away.
"I'm going to fuck that tight little ass-hole, Sarah Watkins!" he said aloud as he got up from the chair and looked around the cluttered room.
At twenty-seven, Harry Appteton could have passed for a teenager. His gaunt frame, long dirty hair, and lean, almost hairless, face gave him the appearance of a gangling boy instead of a man well into his twenties. He wore the standard costume of dirty jeans and blue work shirt that thousands of Californians had taken as their uniform both as social protest and for the inexpensive cost they entailed.
He paced the room nervously as he continued to think of Sarah Watkins. stopping every few moments to stare at one of the hundreds of pornographic pictures that were pasted and stuck to the walls. Most of them had been clipped from underground newspapers and magazines that Harry had purchased and stolen over the months. Even the low ceiling was covered with pictures of naked female bodies and groups of male and females in every obscene pose imaginable. Cocks were slamming into mouths and cunts and ass-holes in a wild and lust-inciting profusion of groupings. Harry would sometimes lay in his bed and masturbate for hours as he stared wild-eyed at his favorite photographs thinking about the girls and women who had taken his lewd imagine.
He went to the bed now and plopped down onto it. his deflated cock still outside his fly. He lay there trying to get up the courage to do what he knew was inevitable a trip to Sarah Watkins home.
The lovely woman was driving him mad and he knew that if he didn't have her soon he would explode. She was different from the others. They were only frightened slabs of meat to him. There was no tenderness or even concern for them when he brutally raped them or forced them to suck his massive cock. Wild and insatiable anger was the only emotion he had ever felt for them an insane hostility toward women that could only be assuaged through the end of his prick!
But Sarah Watkins was something else. She represented everything in the world he hated, and her punishment would be planned and executed with infinite care. She had to suffer and suffer tremendously! There would be no merciful relief for her after he raped her the first time the initial shock would only portend the horrors to follow for her! He would subjugate and degrade her like no one had ever been humiliated before. And in the act of breaking Sarah Watkins spirit he would be saving his own sanity!
He was suddenly distracted from his own insane thoughts by a sound of footsteps coming down the basement stairway toward his room. He jumped up from the bed quickly and stuffed his penis back into his jeans and brushed the lank hair from his face. He knew the footsteps well they belonged to Charlie Froman. his employer.
Harry had worked as maintenance man in the Hollywood apartment house that Charlie managed since coming to Southern California from Sacramento almost two years ago. It was a dirty and low-paying job, and one where he was constantly subjected to Charlie's cruel taunts. But there was little other choice for him, and Harry worked as efficiently as he could for the less than two hundred dollars a month and sleeping room he was paid.
He tensed nervously as he awaited the dull thump of Charlie's meaty fist on his door. It finally came along with his employer's deep voice.
"Harry? You in there, kid? Hey, open up, will ya!"
Harry went to the door and unlocked it, wondering what Charlie could want at this time of night. He could see by the little alarm clock on the chair next to his bed that it was almost nine o'clock.
"You jacking off in there again, kid?" Charlie's voice boomed through the door. "Hey. come on, open up. I got a real juicy tale to tell you!"
Harry threw open the door and stared into the ugly face of his employer, his own cheeks reddening from the man's cruel words. He silently gave thanks that he was finished. Charlie pushed him aside and came into the room, staring appreciatively at the naked bodies that surrounded him.
"Jesus, kid, you're gonna blow your brains out the end of your dick if you don't quit playing with yourself," Charlie chuckled. "Why don't you take some of your salary and blow yourself to a real cunt?" He pointed around the room at the photographs. "These are okay but they ain't the real thing. Ya know what I mean?"
He laughed again and sat down in the chair that Harry had so recently evacuated. When his eyes lit on the open magazine on the floor he picked it up and whistled through his teeth.
"Man, look at this bitch! She's just begging to get it in the asshold, ain't she, kid?"
"W-w-what do you want, Mr. Forman?" Harry asked nervously, anxious for the heavy-set man to leave. Christ! he thought to himself, isn't it enough I have to put up with his shit all clay? Do I have to listen to him at night too?
"Relax, kid," Charlie replied, still avidly devouring the photograph. "I just wanted to tell you about our new tenant, you know, that sexy cunt who moved into 306. Man, what a pair of boobies that bitch has got!"
Harry nodded, knowing that he wasn't going to get rid of his employer until Charlie had finished another one of his lies. According to the ugly, heavy-set manager, none of the women in the building could go a day without offering him their cunts or their mouths to fuck. And, almost every day, Charlie would take Harry aside and boast about how exhausted he was from fucking a dozen tenants, and then cruelly taunt Harry about his own lack of pussy! It enraged Harry but there was nothing he could do except to listen to the lies and then either masturbate wildly or go on one of his increasingly frequently night trips to find an unsuspecting woman to rape.
"Well, let me tell ya what she offered me this afternoon," Charlie continued, tossing the magazine aside and staring up at the slim youth. "I carried up a couple of her boxes and things, right! Well, as soon as I got them all upstairs she closes and locks the door and brings out this bottle of expensive booze ... Wild Turkey, no less! Then, she sits down on the sofa and tells me to sit next to her. I can tell you, kid, it didn't take no second request ... especially with her sitting there with her tits half out of her blouse and her skirt hiked up around her ass!"
"Get to the point, Charlie," Harry said dully.
"For Christ's sake, kid, I am," Charlie complained. He could see the agony on Harry's face and he wanted to drag out the story as long as he could knowing that as the erotic details piled up that Harry's cock would begin to stiffen uncontrollably. "Well, as I said, there we was, both of us on the sofa and her half-fucking-naked and me eyeballing her titties! Well, the first fucking thing I knows, she reaches over and starts playing with my cock through my pants! She says she's heard about the little extra services I provide for some of the tenants and wants to know will I help her out once in a while too!" He paused and looked intently at Harry's crotch and was rewarded by the sight of a swelling lump beginning to throb there. Satisfied, he smiled and continued. "It seems this broad-likes to suck cocks, right! Only she's gotta have big ones like mine. None of these fucking kid peckers! Before I knew it, I was telling her I'd be glad to put her on the list and when did she want her first extra service. Man, she was like a fucking nympho! She gulps down her drink and was on the floor in front of me before I could say blow-job! She's tearing at my fly and in a minute she's got my whole damned cock in her mouth ... licking and sucking it like it was a piece of prime beef! Jesus, I blowed my nuts in record time and she sucked me twice more ... both times slow and easy ... just the way I like! Then, to top it off, she slips me a twenty and the rest of the bottle and tells me to come back again tomorrow morning! What do you think of that, kid?"
Harry flushed furiously as he felt Charlie's eyes staring at the thickening cock at his loins. There was no way to hide the pulsating rod and, even though he knew that Charlie was probably lying, he couldn't help the erotic excitement that was racing through his tortured body.
"You're really lucky, Charlie," he forced himself to say. "Yeh, you really know how to get plenty of cunt, don't you?"
Charlie beamed appreciatively but he wasn't through with the dejected youth yet. He wanted to see Harry suffer even more.
"Yeh, I get by," he said expansively. "Better than you anyway! All you can do is lay down here in this fucking hole and pound your meat! Jesus, kid, it ain't natural with the cunt that's around! Cunt that's just begging to be fucked!"
Feeling more depressed and embarrassed than ever, Harry motioned toward the door. There was desperation in his voice.
"I gotta get some sleep, Charlie. I gotta paint that empty apartment on the third floor first thing in the morning. Leave me alone, huh?"
"Sure, kid," Charlie said, getting up slowly and reaching down to adjust his cock. "I thought you'd like to hear about our new tenant, that's all. Maybe if you begged her real good she'd let you stick your cock into her too!"
He giggled obscenely as he waved goodbye and went back upstairs.
Harry slammed the door and muttered a curse. Then, his face still red and his cock still throbbing painfully, he went to the bed and lay down on his back, his legs spread apart and his hand feverishly working at his zipper while his eyes searched out a favorite picture on the ceiling.
"Jesus Christ!" he cried out as his fingers encircled the thick shaft of his prick and began to pull brutally up and down. "I'll fix you too, Charlie! You wait, I'll fix your fucking wagon good!"
Then there was only the dull slap of fingers against cockflesh and the labored breathing of the lust-filled Harry Appleton's body.
Sarah Watkins was furious as she replaced the receiver in the cradle heavily and stood there for a few moments wondering what to do. Her slender body trembled from fright and anger and for a moment she considered calling the police.
Fat lot of good that would do! she told herself, remembering her previous roommate's experience with an obscene caller and the Hollywood police. When the girl had called to complain, the police had been bored and even implied that somehow it must be her own fault. The telephone company had been more polite but could suggest nothing except for her to change her telephone number at an additional charge, of course! No, Sarah didn't want that kind of hassle.
She went into the small kitchen of her apartment and took a bottle of scotch from the cabinet and poured a still drink for herself. This is the price you have to pay for living alone, she thought, remembering all of the lewd invitations she had had to share her apartment with any number of hot-blooded males. Since Sarah's last roommate had mover out and gotten married, she had made a determined effort to find another girl to share the apartment with. But she could find no one really compatible. The girls she did talk to were either obvious lesbians, or wanted the freedom to have their male friends in overnight. The lovely blonde wanted none of that!
Suddenly she saw that the small steak she was broiling was beginning to burn and she turned her attention away from the telephone call to her dinner. She worked quickly, turning the steak while she fixed a salad and a vegetable. In a few minutes she carried a tray with her dinner into the front room and sat down on the soft couch. She reached over and turned on the stereo and ate slowly while her mind wandered over the past few months in Southern California.
Sarah had moved to Hollywood from her family's home in San Francisco almost a year ago. Getting a job in her firm's Los Angeles office had been no trick for the lovely, twenty-one year old blonde. She was well-liked and efficient, and her boss had even allowed her to charge the moving expense to the company. Her family had been another matter, however, and Sarah could still see her mother's tearful face. But Sarah knew that she had to get away from the bay city long enough to forget the brief, but torrid, romance with the married man who had seduced her. And, even though Hollywood was a surprising disappointment to her, she adjusted well to the sprawling city-within-a-city with its high crime rate and crazy freeways.
Her job was going well and she was almost at the point where she might begin dating again. Not that there hadn't been hundreds of opportunities. Her lush young body with its high-set succulent breasts, flaring hips and long lovely legs, turned heads wherever she went. Her honey-blonde hair framed a beautiful face with hazel eyes, a dainty nose, a full ripe mouth, and a soft, slightly tanned ivory complexion.
I almost wish I were ugly! she told herself, chewing the tender steak and thinking about how many obscene proposals she had had in her young life. Dan Harkins had been different or so she thought for several weeks while the older, married man confused her with his smooth talk and expensive tastes. When Sarah had accidentally found out about Dan's wife, she had been crushed and almost suicidal. But the pain went away after awhile, leaving only a dull ache that continued to surface periodically.
It wasn't so much the loss of her virginity that mattered to her she knew how foolish her mother's rigid morals were in the twentieth century! No, it was the betrayal from a man who she would have willingly slept with without his lies! Sex was unimportant to her. After the initial brief pain she felt nothing down there! Only a gentle warmth and the knowledge that she was pleasing him! She knew all about orgasms, of course. And she even wondered idly sometimes whether there was something wrong with her because she didn't experience the wild sensations other girls described to her. For her, sex was loving and caring giving!
She finished her meal and pushed away the tray, stretching lazily. The clothes she wore the ones she had worn to the office felt restraining and tight and she suddenly felt like a hot bubble bath. The telephone call was almost gone from her mind as she went toward the kitchen with her tray, deposited it on the counter, and then went into her bedroom.
She stripped quickly, allowing herself a glance in the full-length mirror. What the hell is so different about my body than any other woman's? she asked herself, already knowing the answer. There was a natural perfection about the straining, succulent breasts and the smooth flesh of her hips and legs that left no doubt in her mind that she was more beautiful than other women her own age. She blushed slightly as her gaze went down to the golden triangle of silken pubic hair between her legs and she moved her thighs apart sensually until she could see the reflection of her plump little vaginal slit in the mirror. A shiver of excitement ran up and down her spine as she remembered how avidly Dan sought to slip his penis deep up into her quivering genitals.
"Stop it!" she said aloud, surprised at how moist and warm her secret damp spot felt tonight. Her blush was deepening as she went into the bathroom and turned the taps on full and sprinkled the bubble bath mixture into the tub.
For a split second she had allowed herself to see beneath the thin veneer she had erected about herself. To see the loneliness and doubts she still harbored, no matter how much she tried to put them away from her.
When the tub was filled she lowered her long, nakedly voluptuous body down into the steaming water and let out a loud sigh of pleasure as the scalding water enveloped her. It felt so much like the warm that had surrounded her the night she had first let Dan make love to her. There had been pain, of course, a terrible stab of agony that had left her breathless and trembling. But afterwards, when he had spent himself in her, they had lain locked together, his penis still inside her, and the warmth and pleasure was so much like right now.
"Stop it!" she said again, surprised to see that her right hand was resting on her plump pubic and that the slender fingers were lovingly grazing the tiny vaginal slit between her creamy thighs.
Then, with another loud groan this time of frustration she picked up the dull novel that lay on the bench beside the tub and tried to find her place.
"You've got to stop thinking dangerous thoughts like that, old girl!" she told herself aloud. Before she began reading the boring words on the pages of the novel, her mind once more went back to the telephone call and she wondered idly if she had remembered to lock and bolt the front door of the apartment. It was a security building and there had been few problems up to now for its tenants. Still, she thought, I'll have to check it before I go to bed.
She could hear the stereo in the front room playing loudly as she began to read.