Chapter 1

It was as they say, "a lovely wedding."

It was made doubly lovely-lovely because the groom was not only taking the bride, he had just been elected Mayor of the town.

Yes, Ralph Jered Doyle had overwhelmingly defeated his opponent in Garden City's recent mayoralty campaign and was the youngest man ever elected to that prestigious office.

Ralph or "Red," as he was sometimes called by intimate friends, not only because it was a shortened version of his middle name, but because his hair was of that flamed color, had been going with Rena practically since they were in grade school.

She was blonde and lovely in a kind of "girl-next-door" sort of way; the epitome of the All-American girl as was Ralph representative of the new and upcoming breed of young politicos so well formerly represented by the Kennedys.

Rena had gone with him all through high school and then waited patiently while he went to college, and she went to a fashionable girl's school and then continued to wait patiently until Ralph took his degrees in Law and Business Administration. One degree wasn't enough for Ralph J. Doyle. He always had to do things a bit better than anyone else. Rena contented herself with a simple English major and spent most of her time fending off would-be daters and suitors. She was committed to Ralph. He knew it, and she knew it. But that didn't stop other guys from trying. She was so young and so attractive and so sexy, in a "wholesome way," of course.

Even after all that waiting, neither Ralph nor Rena were very old; Ralph in his late twenties, Rena about twenty-three. It had only seemed a long time. They were both still very young with plenty of time to enjoy life.

Rena had campaigned with her fianc', naturally, and it had been a hard fight. In some ways, Ralph's youth and lack of political experience had been against him. But in the final analysis, it helped put him over the top. The people were tired of the same old, tired speeches and cliches. Ralph gave them new ideas and new thoughts the ideas and thoughts of youth.

It's a shame that his ideas about politics and city government didn't extend into the bedroom. Both he and his bride had been brought up in the strictest of moral and religious codes. They had done a great deal of "soft" petting in the summers between college terms, and once during the last year, Rena had gotten so hot she thought she would burst her panties. Ralph's shorts were already wet with some cum that had started to seep from the tip of his penis. And all that was just from some hot wet kisses, a squeeze of Ralph's hand on her breasts and before she knew it, she had squirmed her dress up to her navel and Ralph's hand was under it, fondling her pussy. Mind you, she squirmed it up, not Ralph. To him, a woman's vagina was the most sacred thing in the world, especially Rena's. He would never have dared to violate it.

But now they were finally married. Everything was legal and holy sanctioned. They were not extravagant on their honeymoon. They could not go very far away or stay for an extended time. Ralph had to be back to be sworn in as the Mayor. But they took a small trip to the mountains and prepared to enjoy their first night as a married couple.

They were both quite trepidatious and nervous: Ralph because he wanted to be sure and not "hurt" Rena and Rena because she didn't want to disappoint Ralph.

It wasn't that either one was completely unknowledgeable about sex, its deviations, variations and perversions. Both had studied abnormal psychology in school and had done their share of reading technical books, of course that treated on sexual matters. But their upbringing precluded that either of them would even think of indulging or engaging in anything but "normal," heterosexual relationships for the purpose of having children. They weren't even Catholic. But that's the way they naturally, by their upbringing, thought of the subject.

Hence, their first night together was typical of a young couple that might have become married twenty or thirty or even fifty years ago.

Rena retired modestly into the bathroom while Ralph hastily undressed in the semi-darkness of the room, donning his brand new pajamas. Rena undressed, carefully folding her traveling suit and undergarments so they wouldn't be mussed. As she unhooked her bra and pulled down her panty girdle, she did permit herself a brief sneaky look at her naked body in the full length mirror. She had to admit, even immodestly, that she was as beautiful as any girl who ever adorned the center cover of "Playboy." Maybe not as sexy or provocative, but certainly as beautiful. Her high firm breasts, practically untouched by human hands, jutted out pointedly, the nipples large and firm with a dark center ring. The skin on her body was as perfect as her facial complexion: smooth and milky white. Her blue eyes were dazzling: her blonde hair a fitting crown. Her legs were long and graceful. She permitted herself a small smile at what she was reflected back from the mirror and hoped that Ralph would not be sorry they had had to wait so long. For just a fleet second her eyes darted to that sacred sanctorum below her navel, and she glanced at the also-blonde pubic hair that adorned the outer flanges of her vaginal slit running down between her legs. She rubbed her hand over it gently then quickly drew it away. That wasn't "nice."

As she looked, she heard Ralph's voice calling from the bedroom. "You almost ready, hon?"

"Almost," she replied gaily. Oh, she wanted this to be fun. Love should be fun, she thought as she put her flimsy sheer nightgown over her head and let it drop in clinging folds around her body. She clicked off the bathroom light and went into the bedroom.

In the semi-darkened room her eyes took a moment to adjust. She could not see her new husband. He had already climbed into bed and was steeling himself for an ordeal. He remembered every bit of literature and piece of information he had ever read about how a husband should treat his wife on the wedding night, especially if she was a virgin. Kindness. Gentleness. Take it easy. Remember, it's painful the first time for a virgin.

He was willing himself not to become too excited too soon when Rena opened the door and stood framed in the window between the bathroom and where he lay on the bed. Ralph had opened the curtains and the windows a bit. Health, you know. Fresh air in the bedroom at night, the way he had been taught.

Just enough moonlight lit the room to frame and outline every luscious curve of Rena's body. His penis stirred and began rising just at the sight of her through the night-wearing apparel she wore. It was an even sexier sight to him than if Rena had appeared completely nude. Had Rena known that fact of life she probably would have been nude rather than clothed in a piece of silk that only enticed more than it hid. She did not want to overly excite Ralph on this, their first night and spoil things for him.

"Ralph?" she whispered in a small voice.

"Over here, sweetheart," he replied.

Her eyes became accustomed to the dim light, and she moved toward the bed. She lifted the covers, climbed in on the opposite side and rolled into Ralph's arms. She pressed herself close to him as he embraced her as tenderly as possible. His hands moved to her breasts, cupped one of them and squeezed. She gave a little moan which Ralph completely misinterpreted. He was hurting her, he thought. He withdrew his hand. She pressed herself closer to him and almost melted her pelvis into his legs. She felt the large, hard lump and hoped she wasn't rushing things. She did want him with all the fervor of young passion. She hoped he would take his time, but she needed to be prepared for this first invasion of her most sacred possession.

She wanted to feel her husband's organ feel it for the first time with her hand and not be ashamed of the wanting and of thinking the thought. But did she dare? She returned Ralph's squeeze with one of her own in his hand then slowly inched her hand down his side and leg, approaching his prick closer and closer. She sensed its hardness now and its heat.

Ralph felt her hand coming down lower and lower and could hardly stand it. He reached for her shoulder, found the top of the flimsy garment that protected her tits and thrust his hand inside it. He cradled a bare breast with one hand and tried to struggle out of his pajama pants with the other. He untied it as quickly as he could and was inching it down his thighs with his feet: first one then the other. It wouldn't move quickly enough. The pain and throbbing of his cock was agonizing. Finally he managed to expose his prick and rolled over and on top of his wife.

"Not yet, darling, not yet," Rena almost moaned.

Ralph J. Doyle reached down with both hands and lifted Rena's sheer nightgown. His penis contacted her pubic hair and he spurted cum all over it.

"Oh God! Oh God no! We've waited so long."

Rena realized what had happened and could feel his large member pulsating and throbbing. She felt the moistness on her body and began sobbing. "Oh, I'm sorry Ralph. I'm sorry!"

Ralph rolled off her like a shot. He was embarrassed and ashamed. He had never had so little control before, not with any of the few women he had fucked. He threw off the covers and almost ran into the bathroom, slamming the door as Rena called out, "Ralph!"

Then she lay there, trying to think what to do. Being a woman, she had not been nearly ready for that first insertion and thrust, but she wanted her husband. Perhaps if she gave him time to recover? That's what he needed, she thought, just some time.

But Ralph continued to stay in the bathroom. A half hour went by: an hour. Rena began to wonder if something was seriously wrong. She got out of bed, tiptoed to the bathroom door and knocked on it gently. "Ralph?" she whispered again. There was no reply. "Sweetheart, it's all right. Come back to bed. Please." When there was still no reply, she called again, "Ralph? Please come to bed."

The door opened and Ralph stood there looking like the wrath of God. He was almost in a daze. Rena took him by the hand and gently led him back into their marital bed. They both just lay there quietly for several moments. Finally, Rena broke the silence.

"Sweetheart?"

He did not reply.

"I-I've heard.. . " she began, hesitantly, ". . . I've heard that there are other ways."

"No!" Ralph almost shouted the word. It was almost a snarl: a grunt. He, too, "had heard," and once a whore had sucked him. He did not intend to permit his wife to humiliate herself in that way. Rena sensed what he was thinking and hastened to add, "Not for you darlingfor me."

"What?? ? " Ralph J. Doyle was flabbergasted. He could hardly believe his ears. Was his wife his sweet, innocent Rena suggesting that he commit an act of perversion on her?

"I'm sorry," Rena said again. It seems that she could do nothing right on this night of all nights. "II only thought it might excite you againand make me more more ready," she Finished lamely.

Ralph inhaled and exhaled with a deep long sigh. "Rena, I'm sorry for what happened. Sorrier than you are, I assure you." He sounded more like a lawyer in a courtroom than a husband on his honeymoon. "But," he went on, his voice beginning to sound more and more business-like and authoritative, "it-it's just one of those unfortunate things. II should have been in more control of myself, but the whole thing was just too much for me; the wedding, the excitement, the election. It's no great catastrophe. We'll be married a long time. There'll be lots of other nights. But please don't suggest anything overtsomething that we might both be sorry that we did. I-I have the greatest of respect for you," he continued, compounding the felony, "the same as I have for myself. I wouldn't want either of us to engage in any perverse acts that we might be ashamed of later."

With that, Ralph J. Joyle turned away from his bride and moved away to his extreme side of the bed. Rena thought for a moment that she was going to cry. She contained herself and spent a moment reflecting. Ralph was right. She was a little hussy to even suggest it. Sweet, pure little Rena, wanting her husband to play with her pussy with his fingers or to go even farther with his lips and tongue. No! Ralph was absolutely right to have reprimanded her. Why, she was acting no better than a whore.

"I'm sorry, darling," she said for the third time and ran her hand down her stomach, touching the top of her pussy. It was still wet and moist with her husband's semen.

Quietly, she got out of the bed on her side and tiptoed to the bathroom to wash herself. The very least she could do was to eliminate any reminder to Ralph of his failure. In the shower she soaped herself good and had to restrain the desire to put her own fingers down between her lips and play with herself. That wasn't "nice" either. But Rena was as passionate as the next woman and desired sex with all of the heat and abandon of her female sex, whether she knew or admitted it at the moment or not.

Finally, she was clean again and had dried herself, rubbing briskly with the large fluffy towel. She carefully extinguished the bathroom light and crept back into her marital bet. Ralph was breathing deeply. She couldn't tell whether he was really asleep or merely feigning because he was too embarrassed to talk further. Rena only hoped that she hadn't disappointed her husband too much. She moved close to him and gently Almost at the same moment when Ralph failed in his attempt to consummate his marriage, another scene was taking place in the home of Mrs. Lillian Thayer back in Garden City.

Mrs. Thayer had moved into the community about three months before Ralph and Rena were married and Ralph's election as Mayor.

She had campaigned for Ralph and had made a sizeable donation to his campaign fund. In this way she met not only Ralph and Rena, but most of their friends.

She did not confine her activities and circle of acquaintanceships entirely to the society that the young Mayor and his wife moved in, but Ralph J. Doyle and Rena were her principal targets and prey.

The "scene" taking place in an upstairs room of Mrs. Thayer's lavish home was like something straight out of "Rosemary's Baby."

Attended by her faithful servant, Mrs. Ross, Lillian Thayer was conducting a "Black Mass." The room itself had been changed from an ordinary room into something resembling a "Chapel." There was an alter, hanging draperies and large tapers or candled, all in black. Above the altar in place of the expected Christ or Virgin Mary, hung a representation of His Most Satanic Majesty The Devil! Beelzebub Himself. Mrs. Thayer and her assistant were praying to the Lord of Darkness, asking for guidance, instructions and swearing to do His bidding as He commanded.

As they offered up their prayers and themselves into His unholy hands, they seemed to hear His Voice, commanding them and instructing them. They replied aloud, speaking to His Image.

"We understand Sire," Mrs. Thayer murmured, her two index fingers making a sign of "The Horns" above her head. "Yes Sire. Ralph Doyle and his wife. I have already told You about their marriage. I have prayed to You to desecrate their wedding night."

She listened a moment and then smiled evilly. An evil smile was not something that Lillian Thayer managed easily. She was a beautiful and voluptuous woman who appeared to be about twenty-five years old. She contrasted Rena with her coal-black hair but had the same milky-white perfect complexion. Her breasts were almost twice the size of Rena's, perhaps not quite as firm in tissue, but every bit as delectable, if not more so. Her figure was "hour-glass" in shape: a very thin waist with well-rounded hips that tapered down into legs resembling the drawings of Petty or Varga in the old Esquire magazine. She was sex personified. Her lips were full and overly-red: not because of using too much makeup. They were just naturally blood-red and inviting. There wasn't a trace of a wrinkle, not even "laugh lines" around her eyes. Mrs. Thayer rarely, if ever, laughed. That was not what she had been put on earth to do.

After listening intently for a moment, she nodded with satisfaction. "Good. Good," she murmured again. Apparently her supernatural contact had informed her of Ralph's failure with his wife almost at the moment that it was happening.

Impossible?

Who is to say?

The very religious believe in the existence of "The Devil." And those who are either open-minded or know about these things believe in "witches." After all, our forefathers and the Pilgrims believed in them. Perhaps they knew something that we of the more "enlightened" and modern society do not.

Yes, Lillian Thayer was a real "Witch." She was not twenty-five years old. Her age is indeterminable. She herself has forgotten how many decades she has lived, always doing The Devil's bidding and remaining always perpetually young. like the picture of Dorian Grey. Other things grow old but not Mrs. Thayer.

To begin with, that wasn't even her real name. She had countless names and was forced to adopt a new one each time she moved into a new community. Mrs. Thayer moved quite often. It usually took some time for people to become suspicious of her, but eventually either because her appearance never changed or because in doing the Satanic bidding, she managed to enrage so many people that they grew to hate her, she was unable to remain in the community any longer. It really didn't matter. The world is large and Satan has many places and people to conquer. allowed her hand to rest on his stomach, being careful not to touch his by now limp and useless organ.

She was always welcomed into any community where she moved at first. She appeared to have plenty of money and did. She moved in the best circles, lived in a style and manner that only a millionaire could afford, entertained lavishly and was a most gracious and charming hostess.

For all this, she was nevertheless a witch. Her real name was Riva Blake, but no one ever called her Riva or Madame Blake except her "assistant" who posed as her housekeeper and companion, Mrs. Ross. Mrs. Ross was only an "apprentice" in witchdom. She was old and appeared to be old. But she had almost served out her time as a Devil's Disciple and was shortly due to be rewarded with the same beautiful face and figure as well as the assignments of Mrs. Thayer. She was growing impatient with her secondary role to Lillian and wanted more than anything else in the world to become a full-fledged number one Witch. She tried to conceal her growing impatience from Mrs. Thayer, not always with total success. There were times when Lillian had to remind Mrs. Ross of her position and that she, Mrs. Ross, was required to merely assist her. However, the old woman did pester Mrs. Thayer quite often and wanted to know, "When? When?"

She was doing it now while Riva prayed to her god, The Devil. "Ask Him," she urged Mrs. Thayer. "Ask Him!"

Riva ignored Mrs. Ross and went on praying, asking for guidance and swearing herself on the "altar of the horns." She listened again when she stopped her chanting and nodded with understanding. "Yes Sire. I understand. As soon as they return from their honeymoon." She was forced to grin again when she uttered the word "honeymoon." She knew that Ralph J. Doyle and Rena were in for a disappointing time, not only on their honeymoon, but an even worse experience once they returned to Garden City.

She continued nodding her understanding and murmuring, "Yes Sire," to the unheard commands. "As soon as they return. A party? Of course. I will begin the arrangements immediately."

With that, she bowed low, kissed the floor of the altar, again made "the sign of the horns" and backed away slowly, her eyes riveted to her master's image. Together, the beautiful Riva and the crone made their way out of the alter-room and into the lavishly appointed sitting room.

"You may start dinner," Riva coldly ordered her servant, "and bring me my guest address book. We are going to have a party to celebrate the return of Mr. and Mrs. Doyle from their honeymoon." With that, she laughed loudly and coarsely.

"Yes, Madame," the servant bowed deferentially and left the room.

Riva went to her always well-stocked bar and poured herself a drink. She gulped it off like a sailor and poured another. This one she carried into the bedroom and surveyed the king-size bed and dresser, surrounded completely by mirrors. They were two-way mirrors. Behind this room was a small corridor that completely encircled the room. A hidden access to the corridor was activated by a secret button which Riva pushed then entered through the opening revealed by a sliding panel in one wall.

In the corridor was motion picture equipment: 8mm cameras on tripods with various lenses. At the far end was a door. Riva proceeded down the corridor, opened the door and went into a small but completely equipped darkroom for the processing of movies and stills.

It was neat and clean. All was in readiness. Her modus operandi was always the same. Whoever his Satanic Majesty foisted her upon was first seduced by sex and then blackmailed. In the case of Ralph and Rena, Riva was certain that Rena would not succumb to a lesbian approach: certainly not at first. Therefore, her initial victim had to be Ralph. It should not be difficult especially with the Devil's help.

Riva smiled to herself and began rubbing her hands over her luscious body: gently fondling her own breasts, then working down slowly over her flat belly, lower yet to her thighs and legs and back up to a point between them. She squatted slightly to give her hands more play and feel then rubbed the palm and fingers hungrily over her pussy. She was getting excited just thinking about what she would entice the handsome, wholesome Mayor Ralph J. Doyle to do under her guidance. All of it would be captured on film of course, the cameras operated by the faithful Mrs. Ross.

The Devil had chosen his disciple well. Riva Blake had lived up to His every expectation and so she would again.

The balance of Ralph's and Rena's "honeymoon" was almost as unsatisfactory as the first night: not quite but almost. They found things quite dull in the mountains. Ralph was unlucky at catching fish and there wasn't much else to do. Except of course, what honeymoon couples are supposed to do and want to do make love. That's why they usually came to this rather remote place with its lovely scenery, peace and quiet.

But it was obvious to the both of them that they were not having a "good time." The second night in bed, Ralph had managed to prevent himself from cumming too soon. Matter of fact, he failed to reach a climax at all. Rena's vagina proved to be so tight that he was unable to fully penetrate her. This time he did play with her cunt. But only with one finger. He was forced to do something to try and moisten the tiny hair-lined lips and entrance and force it to dilate. He kneaded her breasts and kissed her passionately. Then he would place his hand on her pussy and feel that it was moist. But every time he mounted her and tried to insert his penis, it only went so far and was resisted by her virginal cherry. She also moaned a bit in the process of his attempts, and Ralph always immediately withdrew. He thought he was "hurting" her. He did not realize that she was moaning with pleasure and that that was the precise moment he should have shoved and rammed his prick into her.

The inevitable result was that he could not get inside her, and the effort turned him off and caused him to lose his hard-on.

Things went on like this for almost the entire week. Both of them became more and more frustrated. Rena found herself wishing and thinking that her husband ought to let them try "something different." A different position perhaps, or even fellatio and cunnilingus. Oh, they both knew all of the proper and technical names for the various variations of sexual intercourse. But Rena was afraid to even mention the subject after Ralph's reaction the first night. She was even afraid to suggest that it might be better if she were on top: or maybe if they both lie on their sides something Ralph seemed to resist and resent anything but what he called "normal" sex. That meant the man on top and the woman on the bottom. The man was the "male" wasn't he? No man is supposed to allow himself to be humiliated by letting his wife fuck him, or to subjugate himself by going down on her.

So they struggled along that way for almost an entire week, pretending to have fun during the day and trying to consummate their marriage each night.

Finally, on their last night, Ralph had really worked Rena into a frenzy of passion with his kisses and kneading her breasts and finger-fucking her clitoris. Her cunt was hot and moist, but the membrane that still separated her from Ralph was intact.

As Ralph worked and tried to screw his way into her, still meeting the same resistance, Rena suddenly grabbed both of his buttock cheeks in her hands and literally pulled her husband into her. She kept pounding on his ass, urging him on and on until finally, their was a "plop" sound inside her belly, a rending and a tearing, a great surge of liquid half cum half blood and she was free. Ralph realized what had happened and the thought of it excited him beyond endurance. He too, spurted his load into her, breathing like a steam engine and sweating like a pig.

Finally, they both lay on the bed, exhausted and spent. But Rena was happy. She really wasn't sure whether she had had a true orgasm or not, but at least she was no longer a virgin. She had given herself to her husband completely and made him happy. That was enough in itself. For him to be happy made her happy. Now that the first awful trial and experience was over, they would have lots of time as Ralph had said, to make love. Perhaps even in time Ralph would be able to relax a little and indulge in a few "variations." She would be patient. She would not rush him. After all, didn't she have the most wonderful, sought-after man in her entire society? She and Ralph would be happy. She was certain of it. Maybe she would even get pregnant after tonight's success. She wanted a baby-Ralph's baby. She lay there, quietly in the dark and thought of being pregnant. It must be wonderful to be filled completely with another human being: to give life where there was no life before. Ralph had gotten up and gone to the bathroom to wash himself. "Cleanliness is Godliness," his mother had always told him and Ralph believed it. He too was happy. He had "made" it at last. It wasn't exactly the thrill he had imagined it to be during the long years and months he had waited to fuck Rena. While he washed his penis and pubic hair, and then pissed in the toilet, he could remember other experiences dimly that had given him more sensation. But that was to be expected. After all, a husband is not really supposed to "enjoy" sex as much with his wife as he has with other women. But now there would be no "other women". And that, too, was the way God had meant things to be. "For better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, in Riva lost no time in contacting Ralph when he and Rena returned from their partially successful honeymoon. Mayor Doyle had not been in his office half an hour when his secretary informed him that Mrs. Thayer was on the telephone. Of course, Ralph accepted the call immediately. He could hardly afford not to. He was well aware of the charming and lovely lady's monetary contributions and help during his campaign. Besides, he had it in the back of his mind to ask that she head up a committee on Urban Development. He took the phone and assumed his most pleasant political voice.

"How are you, Mrs. Thayer? Good to hear from you."

Riva assured the Mayor that she was well and inquired about his own health and that of his wife's and hoped that they had had a fabulous honeymoon.

"Oh yes, yes indeed," Ralph replied. "Itit was wonderful." He felt a little guilty at this slight little white lie. "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, Mr. Mayor," Riva gushed in her sexiest voice, "to paraphrase the famous words of our late, beloved President, "it is not that I want you to do anything for me but to ask what I might do for you?"

"Well, as a matter-of-fact.. . " Ralph began, then broke off as Riva continued. "And to invite you and Rena to a small party I'm giving on Saturday."

"I'm sure we'd love to come," Ralph accepted quickly. "And incidentally, while you're on the phone, would you consider taking over the chairmanship of my committee for Urban Development?"

"Why, I'm very honored, Your Honor," Riva murmured in an even lower voice, if that was possible. "Good, maybe we can talk about it at the party."

"Oh no. No you don't, you naughty Mayor. I will not have business discussed at a party. That's strictly for fun. But if you're free next week, perhaps you'd like to drop over for tea one afternoon and we can discuss it then."

"It's a date."

"When?" Riva pressed for a firm commitment.

"Well, just a minute, I'll have to consult my calendar." He hastily thumbed the pages of his appointment book. "How about Wednesday afternoon?"

"Wednesday will be perfect."

"See you then," Ralph said.

"No, no, no. See you Saturday evening. You won't forget now?"

"I won't forget."

"And be sure to tell Rena. Women don't like to be surprised with last minute appointments, you know. Especially new brides. She might want to buy a new dress or something."

"I'll tell her this evening. And thanks for calling, Mrs. Thayer."

"Good-bye." Riva broke the connection and smiled. She turned to find Mrs. Ross at her side. "It is arranged?" the old lady inquired. "All arranged." sickness and in health, so long as ye both shall live."

Ralph smiled and began to whistle happily as he dried off his cock and put his pajamas on. Now that the sex act was over, he felt the need to be clothed in bed. Sleeping in the nude was somehow "indecent."

He turned off the bathroom light and went back to bed. Rena had heard him whistling and knew that that was a good sign. "Happy, darling?" she asked.

"Ummm," was the reply.

"So am I," she whispered.

"Good night," Ralph said and patted her gently.

"Good night sweetheart," her happiness only slightly dimmed by the fact that Ralph had turned over on his left side and seemed to be asleep almost immediately. Rena was left with her thoughts, and they were good thoughts. like a little girl she began to pray silently, "Now I lay me down to sleep.. . " The sentence was too long. It should have stopped after, "Now I lay.. . "

"Good."

"Now I must complete the invitations. When they learn that the Mayor will be here, you won't be able to drive them away with sticks."

"Or horns," the elderly woman grinned then laughed.

And she was right. That Saturday evening everybody who was anybody in Garden City was present to celebrate the Mayor's return with his bride. The couples varied in age from over fifty to under thirty. Riva circulated herself copiously as any gracious hostess is supposed to do, and carefully noted for future reference, the ones who might be "of use" in the future: the ones who drank a little too much or who appeared to "get high" easily: the husbands and wives who smiled at each other through clenched teeth and obviously were having some marital difficulty.

Riva wore a concealed cordless microphone-transmitter in her dress. All she had to do was bend her head slightly and whisper into it. Every word was taken down on a small tape recorder in the upstairs corridor behind the large bedroom with the two-way mirrors and cameras. She was preparing her next moves and making careful note of those whom she would invite back in the future for an entirely different kind of "party."

Mayor Doyle and his charming Rena were graciousness personified. All or most of the guests were already friendly to them and the Mayor's supporters, but Ralph was so handsome, so self-contained and diplomatic that he managed to cement the loyalty of a few of the older guests who had questioned his youth and doubted his ability to hold so responsible a job. When the affair broke up, no one had any doubts that their new Mayor was destined to go far in politics. The Governorship, perhaps, The Senate even The Presidency, in time. Well, why not? As one of the guests observed: "He's as charming as John Kennedy, and every bit as good-looking." He seems to know what he's doing," another said.

In short, Mrs. Thayer's homecoming party for the Simpsons was a huge success and certainly aided the new Mayor's quest for friends and support. He was properly grateful at the door before he took his leave.

"I can't begin to thank you, Mrs. Thayer," Ralph took Riva's hand and shook it warmly.

"You were marvelous, simply wonderful," Rena added and gently pressed her face on Lillian's, first one side then the other, like two Frenchmen greeting each other.

"I'm so glad you enjoyed yourselves," Riva replied with her mostingratiating smile. "We must do this more often."

"Any time you say," Ralph said.

"Just give us a call," Rena chimed in.

"Good night."

"Good night."

Ralph and Rena turned to go. Rena continued ahead of her husband toward their car. Ralph remembered something and turned back. "Oh. You haven't forgotten our appointment on Wednesday?" he asked.

"Certainly not," Riva murmured like a cat about to pounce on a bird. "I'm looking forward to it with the greatest of pleasure."

And they were gone.

When the last guest had departed and the last drink consumed, Riva turned to Mrs. Ross as she was about to retire to her room.

"We will say Mass every morning until Wednesday. Wednesday you will be prepared to assist me."

"Yes of course, Riva," the old one murmured and bowed her head.

Someday, she thought, I will be like her. I will be master. I will be young. If this comes off well she would ask Him to keep his promise and promote me to that position.