niggers/ZooTracker_Torrents/Petbooks/rws-108.txt

RWS-108 Uncle Gaston And Niece Volume 2 by Jon Reskind


Chapter 1


Madeleine Poirier knew very little about him except that he was an 
acquaintance of Rafael Girarde and in a governmental capacity, which 
automatically classified him as a person of some prominence. His name 
was Julian Forrest and he was a civilian Inspector of the Royal 
Canadian Mounted Police from Ottawa, undoubtedly in Montreal on 
official business. For all of his fifty-odd years, he was not 
unhandsome, and Madeleine was not offended when he approached her. He 
had brought it off rather smoothly the night before at the Salle de 
Venus-Apollon where she served as hotesse for M. Girarde, the club 
owner--and in some respects, her benefactor these past bitter months--
carefully choosing an appropriate time when Rafael would not overhear.

She had appreciated that. Rafael Girarde had been good to her and she 
wanted in no way to offend him, but by the same token, business was 
business, and she had her own goals that neither Rafael nor her income 
as club hostess was going to make attainable. As matters stood, she 
still kept Tuesday and Friday nights generously open to her employer at 
her place, and she felt quite certain that he had no idea of her 
private and selective circle of gentlemen friends upon whom she 
graciously bestowed her voluptuous charms for a substantial fee at 
tightly scheduled, pre-arranged tete-a-tetes. She was no prostitute, 
per se, and resented being approached as one. Julian Forrest must have 
assumed this, she thought, as she taxied toward his hotel that warm 
September afternoon.

She smiled to herself, her lush red lips parting slightly to display a 
dazzling row of white, even teeth. Her deep dark eyes sparkled in 
anticipation and she squirmed gently down into the leather cushion 
feeling the tightness of her panties tauten against the already 
moistened crevice between her legs. Thank God, she enjoyed her work, 
she mused, and that, too, she owed to Rafael. He was a fine lover and 
had taught her much. She had reason to be grateful to him; he had taken 
her under his wing after Antoine, her husband, had been sent to prison, 
aided her financially, found her an apartment and helped her evade the 
powerful and lecherous hands of Gaston Larreau, her own husband's 
nefarious "uncle". Yes, indeed, she owed Rafael Girarde much ... yet, 
she would hurt him, she knew, hurt him terribly before another year 
came to pass ...

Well, enough of those thoughts, she decided firmly. The tall, handsome 
and greying Julian Forrest was a more pleasant contemplation. His 
still-athletic physique beneath the exquisitely tailored suit had 
intrigued her. His smile had suggested sincerity, perhaps, even 
honesty, while his pale-blue eyes had portrayed the delights of the 
mischievous libertine, but in essence it had been his suave approach 
and delicate proposal she had succumbed to ... plus his wallet.

"I'm not a man who chooses feminine companionship haphazardly, my 
dear," he had said to her in his rich baritone voice, the well 
modulated French rolling off his tongue with a decided Parisian flavor. 
Then, strangely enough, in English he had added: "But you are 
breathtaking, ma chere."

"And you are married, Inspector," she replied, almost as a matter of 
form. "Besides, you're a personal friend of Rafael's."

"Isn't everyone?" he said, reverting back to French and laughing as he 
spoke. "Good God, at fifty a man should have twenty years of married 
life behind him and a son or two to prove it. And certainly every 
official in Canada knows and claims friendship with the Minister of 
Government, Rafael Girarde, eh?"

She had laughed lightly. "You put it all so nicely, Inspector Forrest. 
Tell me ... do I look like one of those girls?"

"Heaven forbid! You've misunderstood my luncheon invitation," he had 
said, his square handsome face assuming an embarrassed, if, awed 
expression. "How can I ever apologize and make you understand ..."

"Please don't, M'sieu'. It's not necessary."

"But I feel like a cad ..."

She had laughed once more. "I like you the way you were ... and shall 
we say about two-ish tomorrow ...?"

"T-Two-ish ...?" he repeated, his iniquitous rogue's eyes beginning to 
dance excitedly. "You overwhelm me, Ma'm'selle ..."

"It's Madame, darling, and there is a fee attached," she had said quite 
matter-of-factly.

"Fee? Whatever it is, it's not enough. I'll double it," he had 
responded, licking at his thin lips salaciously.

"And Rafael mustn't know. It would hurt him deeply, cheri. I'm sure you 
understand."

"Of course, of course! The utmost decorum, darling. I understand," he'd 
said in his rich depth of voice. "Ah ... what a marvel you are, my 
dear. I wonder if he realizes how fortunate he is to have such a 
mistress? But then ... I'm sure he does. Have you met Madame Girarde 
and their adopted child, Igat? What a splendid little girl. Beautiful 
... beautiful child ..."

She could remember little of his conversation following the mentioning 
of Igat. The name alone was like a paralyzing bolt of lightning jolting 
through her whenever it was spoken. Even now as she recalled his 
throaty voice rolling the name from his lips, a sensation of agonized 
longing spiraled through her. Her eyes moistened and she bit at her 
full, lower lip. Had she met their adopted child ...? Dear God ... her 
own baby! Her own Igat! Why else was she living but for the day when 
they would be together, away from all of this ... her own sweet little 
darling, Igat ...?

Damn ... she had to get a hold on herself, and right away. Certainly, 
she couldn't walk into his suite in this mood or he'd quickly lose his 
double-fee ideas. Double fee ... hmmmmm ... four hundred dollars ... 
not an untidy sum ... and she intended to hold him to his promise. Four 
hundred ... that would make her twenty-two hundred in the bank. Mother 
of God, it was coming so beautifully. The novenas in church were 
helping, she was certain. She must give him equal value for his money, 
and she was certain that would be no problem. If there was any problem 
at all, it was she, herself; it wasn't right that she should enjoy it 
as she did ... Sometimes, she was not so certain but what the stigma of 
Rahab coursed through her veins ... and maybe these walls of lust she 
was imprisoning herself within would be as vulnerable as those of 
Jericho when the trumpets sounded ... She shuddered at her own 
aphoristic thoughts.

"You said Hotel Victoria, Ma'm'selle?" the cabbie questioned, raising 
his head and cocking an ear.

"Oui."

"Merci. My mind was elsewhere, I guess," he bantered in a form of 
apology.

Madeleine looked through the window at the busy streets. They were 
nearing Dominion Square. As always, the city intrigued her ... had 
since the first day she set foot in it. How long ago ...? Nearly five 
years ... almost six since she'd left the small fishing village of her 
birth on the Peninsule De Gaspe with the American named Keel who was to 
take her to Boston. She had been sixteen, nearly seventeen, and he'd 
fathered her Igat in her ignorance, left her stranded in Riviere du 
Loup ... Oh God, she didn't want to think anymore about that! She just 
had to get hold of herself. Inspector Forrest was not to be 
disappointed by some morbid mood she allowed to seize hold of her. 
Heaven knows, there were too many lonely, dismal hours of reminiscence 
already in her days and nights without stealing from more pleasurable 
moments.

What she really needed was a drink, a little something to stimulate ... 
to rekindle her sensual appetite of such a short time before, and the 
gallant Inspector would take care of that, she felt sure. She must 
cultivate him to the fullest extent; he represented the ultimate in 
clientele and a bit of uncontrollable, egotistical bragging on his part 
to his associates could do much toward increasing her income and at a 
rapid, pleasing rate. Then, she would put it all behind her, this 
entire existence ... completely obliterate it from her mind ... just 
she and her little Igat together at last ... mother and child ... a 
nice apartment in some large city where no one would ever find them. 
Igat would start school and she would find a respectable job ... maybe 
in a fashionable ladies shop ... or even as a model ... But first, she 
must accumulate the five thousand dollars she felt to be the necessary 
minimum figure they would have to have ...

"Hotel Victoria, Ma'm'selle," the cabbie said, interrupting her 
thoughts. He swiveled around in his seat in order to gain a better view 
of his voluptuous, blonde-haired passenger. He offered her his best 
broken-toothed smile and looked at her gorgeous nylon-encased leegs and 
thighs beneath the short fashionable miniskirt. Lustfully, his avid 
little eyes ravaged her, the straining points of her firm, full breasts 
against the lowcut bodice of her dress causing his mouth to go cotton-
dry. Bitch, he thought. She was a whore; he'd bet his godamned life she 
was a whore and that her below-the-shoulder length blonde hair was 
bleached ... he'd bet his damned life on it ... "One fifty, 
Ma'm'selle," he said, smiling. She'd be expensive, all right ... that 
she would ... he could never afford her ... the bitch ...

Madeleine handed him two one-dollar bills and he sought change but she 
told him to keep it. He brushed his hand against her knee reaching over 
to twist the door handle and she shifted in the seat until he could see 
almost to her panties. Damn her, the bitch, she was a whore for 
certain!

"Merci, Ma'm'selle."

She stepped from his cab, hesitated momentarily, then entered the 
revolving door of the lobby while he watched the gentle, provocative 
sway to her full, rounded hips as she walked ... watched until the 
concierge motioned him on irritably and he roared off with a squeal of 
rubber. Damn, how he wished that he was the customer she was visiting. 
He sighed heavily as he wheeled dangerously into the stream of traffic.



Chapter 2

Shannon was but part of his name, not the first nor the last, but the 
middle, after his mother's people, and he chose it as his only 
identification when they released him from prison rather than to use an 
alias. Should he resort to the full Andrew Shannon Connelly there were 
those, he felt, who might remember him, although it was doubtful there 
in Canada. Generally, the sportsminded were hockey people, some 
football, but baseball had yet to come into its own, even with the new 
Montreal Expos; still, he wanted no ties nor to be reminded of that 
segment of his life if only by chance, and especially now with what he 
had in mind.

He'd been sixteen-years in the majors, a husky corn-fed farm boy of 
eighteen from upstate New York in the beginning, foregoing college in 
'47 to sign with St. Louis, and later with Boston, then Milwaukee. He'd 
been good, having two no-hitters to his credit with the Sox, and great 
things still expected of him even at thirty-four, but Maggi had ended 
all of that.

Maggi Delaney Connelly, his wife of thirteen years, mother of Paulie, 
their six-year old son, had been an ardent baseball lover, an excellent 
hostess, and a godamned promiscuous woman. One afternoon in July, six-
years past, Paulie, left alone had struck his head on the side of their 
swimming pool, tumbled into the water and drowned. He, Shannon, had 
been in Chicago and they'd wired him there. It was two days following 
the funeral that a friend advised him of seeing Maggi in a bar with a 
man at the time the accident occurred.

He'd said nothing to her, only pretended to return to the team. That 
night he'd found them together in his bed and attempted to kill them 
both with his bare hands. He might have succeeded, he remembered, had 
not Maggi managed to floor him from behind with a chair, knocking him 
unconscious and breaking his arm ... his left arm ... his pitching arm.

But the ironical part had come later when her lover, who had turned out 
to be a prominent, local political hack, had engineered an attempted 
murder charge against him and made it stick, netting him a year and a 
day in prison. When it was done, a bitter ex-baseball player named Andy 
Connelly was advised by a benevolent warden that he might do better in 
another part of the country ... or even another country. Had he thought 
about that?

In fact, he'd thought about a lot of things, and that was but one of 
them. Divorced, broke and overflowing with hate, he had migrated north 
of the border, found employment in a small factory in Ontario, then, 
fumbled a stupid attempt to hijack its payroll.

So, once again here he was, five-years later, no less bitter, but 
seasoned, and happy to be breathing free air once more as he walked 
along a side street off St. Catherine in the warm September sunshine, 
enjoying the pleasurable sounds of Montreal's bustling activity. Twenty 
years had passed since his last visit to the fabulous city ... since 
that exhibition game with Montreal's then International League team, 
and he was satisfied that its stellar attraction had not changed ... 
the women were still beautiful ... and God, how he needed one.

A half-dozen times he paused to ogle after a pair of pretty legs or a 
voluptuous figure wearing a piled-up, exotic coiffure ... radical, 
ridiculous, but beautiful ... slender ankles, rounded calves and 
curvaceous hips and buttocks ... tripping off on high, needle-like 
heels in every damned direction. Christ, it was enough to set him wild; 
his love-starved cock jerked uncontrollably in his pants. He didn't 
intend that another day would go by without him knowing the 
satisfaction of a woman's warm, soft, receptive body. How he'd gone 
these last forty-eight hours since his release was almost more than he 
could fathom right at the moment, but then, with a little thought that 
wasn't too difficult to reason either.

There were other things besides the need for normal sexual satisfaction 
one became obsessed with when he was buried "inside" ... and in this 
case it had been a plan to extort a half-million dollars. A thousand 
and one nights he had lain awake plotting, planning, learning all he 
could from his vindictive cellmate, Antoine Poirier, regarding the 
latter's infamous crime czar "uncle", Gaston Larreau; until he was 
certain he had devised a workable scheme. Nothing else seemed to matter 
all those long months and years except this fantastic coup that was 
going to even every score for him, even the medieval torture of being 
denied the biological need for a woman.

At first, when he'd walked onto the street and heard the big gate clang 
shut behind him the sensation of being a free man once more had nearly 
over-powered him. By god, he was going to kick things off with a few 
drinks, then, a woman, and he was going to fuck that doll, whoever she 
would be, until she couldn't walk, until he'd drained the last drop of 
stored-up semen from his aching, ravenous loins ... but he hadn't done 
either. Instead, he'd gone directly to the CNR station, bought a ticket 
for Montreal and spent the day enroute, his brain cogitating in a 
never-ending pattern of hashing and rehashing, for it was the enormity 
of such a scheme and the aftermath should it fail that caused him to 
break out in periodic cold sweats.

The big gamble existed in the fact that he was playing at a game he 
knew nothing about, where the stakes, win or lose, were the ultimate 
... financially fixed for life, or very, very dead. The payroll 
escapade had been a foolhardy thing; the proof of that had been his 
tackling it single-handed and without a carefully prepared program. 
They'd caught him flat-footed. This time, he intended to minimize the 
gamble with methodical planning. There was no room for error, or else 
he would damn sure wind up in a basket; not that he feared death so 
much, but it was the uncontrollable ways one could achieve the state 
that bothered him.

Anyway, his carefully conceived plans called for a woman and one he 
could trust all the way. Tony Poirier had lauded the praises of his 
voluptuous young wife the entire length of time that they'd shared a 
cell, long enough and with sufficient enthusiasm to lead Shannon to 
believe that she might be just the accomplice he was looking for ... if 
he could enlist her help. He'd told Tony nothing of his intentions, 
simply picked his brains until he was satisfied that he knew Madeleine 
Poirier as well as did the young husband, himself, even to every inch 
of the soft, white flesh of her delicious body ... and this was why he 
hadn't wasted any time sating his immediate carnal desires. He'd 
managed to survive for five years and another day or so wasn't beyond 
his realm of endurance; besides, from the small picture that Tony kept 
of her on the wall above his bunk, plus the untold hours he had 
listened dry-mouthed with his prick anvil-hard and throbbing painfully 
while the Frenchman expounded on her sexual charms and abilities, he 
was convinced it was going to be worth the extra short abstinence.

Of course, there were still questions he had no way of knowing the 
answers to, yet; questions like: how much had she changed since Tony'd 
been sent to prison? Did she still love him? What was she doing; how 
was she getting along? Could she really be trusted ... and was he going 
to have to rape her, or would she fuck willingly? Because he damned 
sure intended to have her, one way or the other.

He'd formed a few ideas of his own and based them on the fact that her 
letters to her husband had fallen off to one every two or three weeks, 
and dropped from six and seven pages to one ... it all added up to one 
thing, little Madeleine had had it with her Tony. New things were in 
the wind for her, which might well play right into his hand. Besides, 
he still had his main ace-in-the-hole ... her kid, and this was what he 
was counting on to swing things his way.

Shannon's mind churned busily as he hailed a cab, gave the address he 
had copied from one of her letters to Tony, and leaned back to 
contemplate his financial situation briefly. It wasn't what he could 
call sound; he had fifty-three dollars to his name and he was going to 
need a little bundle to set the wheels in motion. Someway, somewhere, 
somehow, he had to garner a sizeable stake, and for some reason he was 
convinced that Madeleine Poirier was also going to be his answer in 
this department.

The cabbie swung around the corner onto a narrow side street and slowed 
to study the housenumbers. Shannon noted the semi-shabbiness of the 
section with its near-ugly three and four storied red-brick buildings 
and their long ascending porch-steps. Momentarily, he speculated that 
Tony's little wife might not be making it too well and this didn't 
please him.

The Frenchman pointed out the right entrance and Shannon hopped out, 
paying but ignoring the tip.

"Merci, m'sieu'," the driver stressed sarcastically tossing his fare a 
disgusted side glance, as he pulled away from the curb with a squeal of 
rubber.

Shannon spat after him and cursed under his breath. Lousy frog. He 
climbed the steps irritably, hardly prepared to walk into the building 
superintendent. He had just entered the dingy, musty-smelling vestibule 
when the other appeared out of nowhere before him, a thin, narrow-
shouldered, elderly Englishman with a fat little belly and a pinched 
face. His hair had long left him and his eyes bore a strange cloudiness 
about them that reminded Shannon of a junkie he had known a long time 
before in Syracuse. The little man looked at Shannon's six-feet from 
head to toe, appraising the close cropped, almost white hair, the hard 
blue eyes and straight lipped mouth in a manner that indicated he 
didn't like what he saw.

"Well?" he said with a near cockney accent.

"Madeleine Poirier? She live here?"

"Maybe. Who're you?"

"Which apartment?" asked Shannon, ignoring the question.

"She ain't in. Saw her leave a couple of hours ago," the little man 
told him snidely, working his milky-eyes up and down Shannon's face 
once more. "Who're you, anyway?"

"Her brother."

His pinched face twisted into a contemptuous grin. "Now I've got yuh, 
wise guy. You don't look like her; you don't look French either. So, 
let's try a better one, eh ..."

Shannon lost patience. He caught him by his long necktie, winding it 
around his big hand until his fist was shutting off the breath in the 
other's windpipe. "Which apartment, Pop?" he hissed without moving his 
lips.

The Englishman attempted to swallow. It seemed difficult. "You ... you 
better not try any rough stuff here, mister," he gasped, the haze 
temporarily clearing from his eyes. "This is a respectable house, see 
... No rough stuff ... I ... I don't know anything about her ... I 
ain't sure she lives here ... okay ...?"

Shannon let go of him and stepped back. He sighed and brought bills 
from his pocket, peeling off one of the precious tens and extending it 
to him.

"W-Well ... well," the little man stammered, simultaneously massaging 
his throat while his eyes darted from the money up to Shannon's face. 
"W-Why didn't you say you were her brother?" He made a more acceptable 
grin and grabbed at the money, shoving it deep into his shirt pocket. 
"Follow me ... I'll let you in to wait for her, eh? She ought to be 
'long any time. Been gone quite awhile now." He winked and spun around.

"Thanks," said Shannon drily, falling in behind him to climb the 
stairs.

"Yeah ..." he repeated as he led the way to the third floor, "... 
should've told me that in the first place, mister ..."



Chapter 3

Madeleine doubted that she would ever get over her timorousness at a 
first appointment with a new patron. Perhaps in time, when, and if, one 
became seasoned, a certain callousing metamorphosis took place, but so 
far in her short career she'd noted no such mutation. In fact, at the 
moment, standing in the luxurious living-room of Julian Forrest's 
elegant suite before the appraising, lecherous eyes of the handsome 
Inspector, she sensed a tiny shiver begin at the calves of her legs to 
creep up over the satin-smooth flesh of her body and along her spine in 
an emotional blend of trepidation and sensual anticipation. The latter 
somatic reaction surprised her, but she couldn't seem to help herself; 
his imposing masculinity just seemed to set her off in a carnal manner 
she could never recall experiencing before.

"Ah, my pet, you're very punctual," he said, smiling and moving toward 
her with the suave charm and dash of a cavalier, "and even more lovely 
than I remember ... if that's possible."

"You're too flattering, Inspector," she replied as he took her soft, 
long-fingered hand inside his large, strong one, while the other moved 
tantalizingly along the warm, smooth skin of her arm almost to her 
shoulder, his fingertips brushing beneath to tease at the velvety, 
erogenous flesh at the pit of her underarm. The erotic sensation took 
her completely by surprise and she made a little unintentional gasping 
sound.

Her reaction pleased as well as excited him and he drew her closer, 
slipping his arms around her slender waist. Madeleine looked up at him, 
her dark eyes unable to conceal her own arousal. He held her gently but 
firmly, until she felt her full, erect breasts flattening against his 
chest and then his hands were moving downward to encompass the round 
full orbs of her buttocks possessively.

"Let's dispense with the formalities, cherie," he whispered in English, 
his strong hands teasing and massaging the smoothness of her buttocks, 
ever drawing her closer into the solid strength of his loins.

Once more, his overwhelming charm completely captivated her, raising 
another little gasp in her throat. Ohhhh ... for certain, she was going 
to enjoy this ... He lowered his head slowly, completely engulfing her 
soft, wet mouth with his own lips, his tongue sliding between her lips 
and against her teeth, sending an ungovernable tremor rippling over 
her. He held her almost crushingly, his large hands hot and moving as 
they pressed into the spheres of her buttocks, forcing her pelvis 
tighter to him, his height placing the still unhardened bulge of his 
penis snug against the softness of her belly.

An unexplainable, little sense of injured pride at his lack of 
immediate penial response to the physical contact of her body caused 
Madeleine to begin a barely perceptible undulation of her belly and 
pelvis as she opened her mouth to the exploration of his tongue ... and 
then he was slowly drawing her down onto the davenport, one massive 
hand moving to cup her full, round breast, squeezing and kneading it 
gently.

"Ohhh ... ohhh," she moaned purposely, but not wholly with pretense. 
"Y-You're not a lover who believes in wasting time, cheri." She 
squirmed suggestively beneath his hands.

"There's hardly time to be wasted in this life, ma chere." he half 
whispered, his hands investigating her soft, curvaceous body as he 
leaned above her and played with her face with his tongue.

A barely audible whimpering sound escaped her, and suddenly she was 
alive with sensation. His hands, his tongue, his whole body and actions 
were setting her aflame with lewd, lascivious desire. God, she couldn't 
remember ever feeling more wanton ... or a more urgent need for sexual 
fulfillment ...

"Do you like to fuck?" he asked her, his face scant inches above her 
own, and his sincere, sensual use of the lewd word causing immediate 
prurient sensations to come alive and ripple through her excitedly.

"Oui ... oui, I do cher," she answered quickly, without the slightest 
trace of pretense, "When I have such a lover as you."

He chuckled warmly. "You are a clever little girl, ma chere. You know 
the many ways to excite a man ... but I fear you have yet to know 
Julian Forrest." He continued to smile down into her face. He kissed 
the tip of her nose and his great hand went on caressing her breast 
through her clothing.

Madeleine squirmed beneath his gentle, but stimulating touch. She was 
not ashamed at her obviously growing desire; instead, she was pleased 
and satisfied that she would have to put on no airs for this man whom 
she wanted physically ... sexually, as was so often the situation in 
this new-found profession she had temporarily chosen. But, she wasn't 
about to wait much longer ... She slipped her arms up and around his 
neck, drawing him down to her kiss, forcing her tiny pink tongue into 
his mouth as she writhed against him.

Finally, she said: "Make love to me, cheri."

"How?" he whispered hotly into her mouth.

"However you choose?"

"You ... you say that so flippantly," he hissed down at her.

"B-Because that's the way I feel," said Madeleine, trailing her hand 
down over his chest toward his loins ... moving over his flat, hard 
stomach to the front of his trousers, her long, sensuous fingers 
seeking and exploring with gentle tenseness ... at last to discover his 
still flaccid member lying docile inside the protection of his 
clothing.

Her brow knitted and she stared up at him. He dropped his eyes and 
looked away; finally, he turned from her and sat upright on the edge of 
the chesterfield, his back to her.

"I-I'm sorry, cherie. I ... I had no right asking you to come here ... 
not a warm blooded, normal young woman such as you. It was a cruelty on 
my part ... but then, you see, I didn't expect to regard you 
differently from the others." Suddenly, he arose and walked toward a 
small corner bar. "What would you like ... scotch, bourbon, a gimlet, 
perhaps?"

Madeleine raised to a supporting elbow. Something inside her felt 
terribly denied, but as well had curiosity along with a certain anger 
gripped her. She ran her tongue over her full lower lip. "I'm afraid I 
don't understand, M'sieu'," she heard herself say rather sharply. "I 
was under the impression that you ... you desired my company ..."

"Oh God ... and you were so right ... so right, ma chere." He began to 
blend drinks, finally, carrying back two glasses. He seated himself on 
the edge of the couch and handed her one.

She took it and tasted it. It was a gimlet. She preferred scotch. Well, 
whatever the hell it was, she needed it. She said: "Why did you invite 
me here?"

"I wanted you," he replied simply.

"Wanted me ...?"

He turned to face her quickly, his handsome face breaking into a smile, 
then a laugh ... a harsh, almost brittle laugh. "I confuse you 
completely, don't I? Yes ... of course, I do. All right ... it's time 
for explanations I suppose. Why not?" He continued to smile down at 
her. "Ordinarily, I never explain my dilemma ... but to you, I shall." 
He sipped at his drink. "You see, ma chere, the war was not kind to me. 
Oh, not any of these modern wars, but the second great war ... it 
eliminated my manhood ... not my desire, you understand, only my 
ability to be a man. The physicians were understanding, kind, and 
expert for their time ... but they couldn't undo what a piece of 
shrapnel had done. They could provide the flaccid entities, the 
appearance of masculinity ... but there was no way on God's green earth 
they could make them function ... Unfortunately, that little chunk of 
shrapnel could only tear the flesh from my loins ... and not the desire 
from my brain."

Madeleine gaped at him. Her stomach knotted and her heart went out to 
him. Unconsciously, her hand reached for his. She clutched and 
squeezed. Suddenly, she said: "You have no sons ... no wife ... nothing 
but me, do you, cheri?"

He turned quickly, rage in his eyes ... but it melted before her as she 
looked up at him, and in its place came glistening tears. He didn't 
answer and it was then that she managed to sit up beside him, take his 
face between her hands and kiss his mouth warmly. Then, she pressed him 
backwards, down where she had lain, and she kissed him again, even as 
her fingers began to unbutton his coat and shirt, and tug at his tie.

She undressed him slowly, almost teasingly, kissing his naked flesh 
wherever she bared it.

"My God!" he groaned. "I'll give you a thousand dollars ..."

"Shhhhh," she whispered, grasping at the band of his shorts as he 
raised his hips. Slowly, she slid them down off his muscular legs, the 
sight of his massive, limp prick lying unmoving against the heavy 
testicles beneath arousing wild new delights inside her. She could only 
imagine what an impressive, dynamic organ it would be were it possible 
for it to rise to the occasion. Yet, there was something sadistic and 
masochistic in the fact that it could not ... that there was no way she 
could fulfill herself upon it ... that this handsome specimen of 
masculinity was suddenly and completely subservient to her in his 
shame, and something akin to motherhood swelled up inside her, until 
spontaneously, she took the thick lifeless instrument into her hand and 
fell upon it with kisses.

He raised up and forced her back in his place, slowly, teasingly 
undressing her. She felt him lift her up and the long zipper of her 
dress being drawn provocatively down her back. She closed her eyes, not 
thinking, assisting him wherever necessary with the proper movements of 
shoulders and hips, raising and lowering, not knowing why, feeling his 
gentle hands behind her once more as they unfastened her bra, then, the 
cool rush of air as her throbbing nipples were completely exposed to 
him ... and she heard him gasp and felt his great hands enclose them 
hotly, kneading, squeezing, rolling the nipples almost painfully 
between his fingers, until finally his hot, wet mouth encompassed one, 
his tongue flicking and rolling the sensitive bud maddeningly ... and 
then the other in the same manner, his long wet tongue at last trailing 
down through the deep narrow valley that separated them ... and her 
stomach muscles tensed as his tongue slithered down her naked flesh, 
dipping momentarily into her navel ... taunting it while his hands 
continued to massage her now aching breasts ... and then, his hands 
left them, drawing down along her ribs to her hips, his fingers 
catching the waistband of her sheer white panties ... and she raised 
herself, her eyes still tightly closed. Once more, she felt the cool 
rush of air as it brushed against her warm vibrant thighs and loins; 
she obediently raised her legs, allowing him to slip the wispy little 
garment down the long ivory columns ... her eyes clenched pleasurably 
shut, her breathing catching spasmodically in her throat causing her 
breasts to rise and fall with a quivering wondrous delight that was 
spurring Julian Forrest's libido to almost agonizing proportions.

He was mesmerized with the breathtaking loveliness of her as she lay 
naked in her desire before him. Her sleek, firm body was an entrancing 
combination of reversing golden curled lines ... rising and arching 
contours of her swelling breasts and thighs ... and then falling into 
the gentle concavity of her soft, smooth white belly. He gaped at the 
velvetlike, raven-hued, silken hair sparsely covering the juncture of 
her slightly spread thighs and belying the golden tresses that tumbled 
about her shoulders. The thin, pink, hairlined slit running the length 
of her open loins caused his mouth to go dry. Christ! The inhuman 
torment of his affliction! He'd go mad ...! His tongue moistened his 
thin lips as he raised his head to watch the glazed expression in her 
now open, exotic eyes.

Madeleine returned his gaze, neither able nor wanting to check the 
carnality building inside her, and as he lay his hand gently upon her 
thigh, tenderly sliding it along the white, satin smooth flesh, she 
felt as though she were about to ignite within. Lord, she had never 
felt this way with a man, any man ... not even Antoine, her husband! 
Why? His touch was like a thousand volts of electrical current surging 
through her, causing a myriad of tiny explosions to burst inside her 
loins and belly, until of their own volition her hands moved to her 
breasts caressingly, thumbs and forefingers taunting and rolling their 
hardened nipples wantonly.

God, what's done this to me? Certainly nothing I've drank, or taken 
internally? I've never felt so ... so whorish in my life! My God, I 
can't believe it! Why? He's just another man ... or is he? Can it be 
it? The fact that he can't perform ... the fact that he's alive with 
desire inside and can't fulfill himself ... Mon Dieu! Am I becoming 
some horrible kind of sadist ...?

Julian Forrest sucked in his breath at the unbelievable, enchanting 
sight before him. He had enjoyed many, many young women in his own 
necessarily resourceful ways, but never had there been anyone like this 
... never a morsel so lovely, so responsive. Dear Christ, if only his 
cock could leap to the challenge ... how he would fill her hot little 
belly then ... But that was wishful thinking; even so, he could feel 
the blood pouring into its knob hotly and knew that little driblets of 
thick, white seminal fluid were seeping from its soft, helpless glans.

Suddenly, with thumbs pressed to either side of her hair-lined cunt-
lips, he tenderly spread the vertical slit open until its moist, coral 
lusciousness was parted to him and his mouth fell agape at its 
glistening, bejeweled splendor. He felt her warm, soft, inner thighs 
quiver against the backs of his hands and heard her breath catch deep 
down in her gasping throat. Skillfully, he leaned closer and opened the 
soft fleshy inner petals enshrining her clitoris, but this time licking 
out with the tip of his hot, wet tongue, and he felt the erotic 
response of his touch jolt through her convulsively.

"Oooohhh ... Ooohhhh, Darling, Darling ..." she moaned, raising her 
head to gaze down with passion-filled eyes between her proud, erect 
breasts at his lowered head buried between her widespread thighs. Then, 
he was smiling up at her, the first traces of an evil gleam coming to 
life in his now wildly excited eyes, and causing the initial spasm of 
frightened, if, depraved lust that would overwhelm and seize complete 
control of her before the day was over. "Ooohhh!" she spasmed once more 
as his hot, moist lips closed over the soft mound at the base of her 
belly, and again his face disappeared from her view into the soft 
fleece between her open legs as he showered wet, tantalizing kisses on 
the closed vaginal fissure, his tongue flicking serpent-like at the 
palpitating opening.

Suddenly, a prodigious sensation of power raced through her and she 
thrust her loins upward toward his mouth. "Yes ... yes! Lick it!" she 
heard herself hiss down at him as her hands entangled themselves in his 
hair and she endeavored to pull him tighter into her. "Lick my cunt! 
Ooohhh ... lick and suck it, Darling ...!"

Her elbows pressed tightly against her ribs and her head began to roll 
from side to side as his hot, searing tongue shot out, its soft 
flicking tip circling her quivering erected clitoris. "Oooohhhh," she 
moaned again while his lips sucked, drawing the warm soft folds deep 
into the shelter of his gently biting mouth, and his tongue continued 
its maddening licking against the urgent pink smoothness of her open 
cunt.

From then on, Forrest worked hungrily, running his tongue up and down 
the length of the narrow wet slit, starting at her lower belly and 
pressing its way down, down over the elastic rimmed opening of her 
clasping vagina and into the crevice of her flexing buttocks where it 
sought out the tiny puckered hole of her anus, laving it wetly and 
raising deep, husky groans from her chest. Subconsciously, she lifted 
her legs, drawing her thighs back until her knees touched her breasts, 
raising her hips and buttocks to his delightful assault, and she heard 
her own purring, animal-like sounds emitting passionately from between 
her lips.

She was a queen being humbly serviced by a lowly slave ... her eunuch 
... his only desire to please her ... to lick and suck her cunt, or 
whatever other perversion she could think of ...! Mon Dieu! I'm losing 
my mind with the wicked lust he's causing to build inside me!

Beautiful, lovely cunt! thought Forrest. Oh, you exciting little bitch! 
Now ... already, you're mine to play with ... Yes, Yes ... all mine ... 
completely at my mercy!

Her groans drove his tongue faster as it worked its way up and down the 
throbbing, quivering lips of her excited pussy. Already, she was too 
far beyond the point of stopping him from anything he chose to do to 
her, or demanded that she do to him. Now, it was near time to get out 
his assortment of dildos. He couldn't keep from gloating to himself as 
suddenly her hands were clawing at his hair, attempting to guide his 
mouth back to the small palpitating opening of her cuntal passage. 
Again he parted the soft yielding pubic hair and thrust his tongue into 
the velvety-rimmed flesh, taunting it momentarily, then quickly 
withdrawing it to tantalize mercilessly the ragged pink edges throbbing 
between her widespread legs.

Madeleine whimpered aloud and clutched at him, forcefully pressing his 
mouth directly over the tight little hole in her lustfully squirming 
loins.

She must not cum, he mused as he sucked ... must only work herself up 
to that crucial, mind-shattering point ... but she must never cum, or 
else his own sadistic climax would be ruined. She must beg and plead 
and squirm like an animal while he tormented her, and she must suck his 
dangling, flaccid prick as it hung above her face ... yes ... yes, now 
it was time for that ...!

Once more, she cried aloud as she felt him pulling from her grasp, then 
the strange movements of his muscular body, until suddenly his loins 
were above her face, his long limp cock dangling down only inches above 
her mouth, his heavy, hair-covered balls swaying between his wide-
spread thighs, and she clutched at his buttocks to pull him down to 
her, her wet, ruby lips opening to receive the massive purple head of 
his helpless, pendulous cock, while he rammed his tongue deep into her 
moist, pink vagina, rounding his lips and covering the clasping viscous 
opening in a wild sucking performance that seemed to draw at her very 
entrails.

She moaned passionately around the limp flesh of his prick, lifting her 
head and slipping her mouth further up onto it in her insane effort to 
absorb all of it into her mouth and throat. Maddeningly, she slashed at 
the soft, fleshy rod with her tongue, working the foreskin back by 
pulling with thumb and forefinger at its wide base, simultaneously 
sucking strongly at its head as one might in drawing the fruit of a 
grape from its skin; then she cupped his great balls in both hands, 
massaging and squeezing them as she ground her cunt hungrily and 
lasciviously up into his face.

Forrest could feel the wet, gently throbbing flesh of her cuntal 
passage slip moistly around his long extended tongue as the walls of 
her invaded vagina opened and closed in a sucking motion of its own, as 
if it were attempting to extract his tongue deeper and deeper into it.

Madeleine was nearly lost in the lust-inspired rapture of the moment. 
Wildly, she sucked at the limber prick in her mouth, swallowing it into 
her throat and letting him pull it free, only to repeat the act, while 
every muscle in her lovely desire-wracked body tensed as she strained 
her hips upward toward that maddening, searching tongue between her 
legs.

Oh God, she must make him happy ... fulfill him as he was her! She must 
earn her fee ... oh good Lord! It'd never been like this with anyone! 
It was beautiful ... she loved it ... loved him ... loved everyone ...! 
Ohhhh, Igat, Igat ... my baby ... for you ... it's for you ... yes, yes 
... Oh, suck it ... suck it, Lover! "Ummmmmmm," she moaned around his 
prick in her mouth, her drawn-up legs opening and closing around the 
tormenting head that held the gluttonously slashing tongue licking at 
her inflamed-seared cunt. The cords of her neck and thighs stood out as 
savagely she sucked and pulled at his long, flaccid prick in eager 
response to the delight he was bringing her.

"Ohhhhh ... Ummmmmm," she mewled and purled, splaying her legs out 
wider and wider to the sides, allowing him greater access to her wildly 
wanting pussy.

Forrest could stand it no longer. Abruptly, he raised his head and 
reached out for the drawer of the small table at the foot of the 
davenport, while Madeleine squirmed and writhed frantically in search 
of the pleasure-giving tongue that had suddenly deserted her. She 
spewed his prick from her mouth and whined: "Don't stop! My God ... 
please ... don't stop now! Just a little longer, cheri ..."

Forrest sniggered lewdly as he withdrew a chest of rosewood from the 
drawer and flipped it open to display an assortment of six different 
sizes and shaped dildos. He moved off of her then and rose to his knees 
between her widespread legs to hold the open chest for her 
surveillance.

"Have you ever seen such a magnificent collection of cocks, cherie." he 
grinned as he questioned with salacious delight.

Dumbfounded, yet still alive with the incessant desire permeating her 
lust-wracked body, Madeleine stared at the almost human-looking penises 
that lay side by side in their erected state within the velvet-lined 
chest. From them, she raised her eyes questioningly to the handsome, if 
now, slightly demented appearing face of Julian Forrest.

"I ... I don't understand ..." she managed shaking her head in 
confusion. "You ... you want to use one of those on me ...?"

"So ...? You're surprised?" he snapped. "How else? Would you expect me 
to fuck you with this?" He grabbed his long, limp penis and shook it 
uselessly before her.

"I ... I was satisfied with what you were doing, cheri ..." she assured 
him. "It was beautiful ..."

"Enough!" he said sharply. "I'm paying the price, ma chere, eh? You'll 
do as I say ... as I want. Agreed?"

"O-Oui, Cheri, h-however you say," replied Madeleine, an inward shudder 
of fear rippling through her at his cold, decisive statement. So ... 
after all, she was only a whore, wasn't she?

He chuckled lewdly. "Now my little cunt, you'll see why I pay you so 
well for my pleasures." He held forth the chest once more. "Choose your 
weapon. Which do you like ... the seven, eight or nine inch prick? The 
seven has an inch-and-one half diameter, the eight, one-and-three-
quarters ... and the nine, a marvelous two-inches. Well .... which one, 
ma chere."

Madeleine stared at the members that appeared as if they might have 
been severed from human male forms ... even to the attached testicles 
... perfectly contoured in every way.

"Well? Well?" he shot at her edgily.

"T-The small one, I think," she answered finally, her eyes dropping 
from his.

Forrest laughed. "Just as I thought." But as he spoke he reached for 
the eight-inch phallus and its matching mate beside it. "You'll need 
the eight, my love," he said, matter-of-factly. He smiled. "After all, 
I've had a better look at that little cunt of yours than you have, eh? 
And we do want you to enjoy this ... seeing as how you'll be doing all 
of the work."

Madeleine watched, another sensation of fear soaring through her as he 
took the two resilient members and screwed them together at their 
bases, making one long, double dildo. Then, from the chest, he took a 
small jar of what looked to be lubricating cream and coated one, but 
not the other. Her eyes sought his, found them and he smiled lustily.

"You're about to take part in a private perversion of my own, cherie." 
he said, licking at his lips licentiously. "You'll see, it's been a 
long time since I've been able to experience normal sex; therefore, it 
was necessary to devise my own methods. My satisfaction is achieved 
through the prostate gland ... as yours is reached through normal 
intercourse of that magnificent little cunt. So ... we approach love 
from a new angle, with the male being the passive member. Do you 
understand?"

Madeleine gaped at him. "I-I'm not sure ..."

"Damn!" he spat. "Lay back and spread your thighs, my little cunt, 
while I work this into you. Then, perhaps you'll get the drift."

"B-But ..."

"Shut up, and do as I say!" Forrest snarled, his smile suddenly leaving 
him. "Don't make me rape you with this, my love ... or you might be 
just a bit sorry."

Slowly, Madeleine lay back, opening her thighs reluctantly as she gaped 
at the massive two-ended weapon he held in his hand. It occurred to her 
then, that any desire she had enjoyed before had suddenly escaped her. 
Instead, a void of emptiness clutched fearfully at the base of her 
stomach and she stared with awe at the vicious looking double-cudgel in 
his hand. Dear God, what was he going to do to her?

"Wider! Open them wider, bitch!" Forrest snarled and she did as he 
pressed the bulging artificial knob toward her cunt's defensively 
clasping opening. At its touch, she spread her legs out wider 
automatically, as far as she could, raising her knees slightly in an 
effort to open herself enough to accept the wicked device he was 
gleefully introducing into her arching vagina.

"Oh ... Ooohhh ... it's so big ...! Oh God I'm afraid! I can't do it! I 
can't take it, cheri!"

The words gushed from her lips fearfully as he jostled its tip for a 
moment against the pink, ragged edges of flesh, then, with a flick of 
his wrist the lust incited man forced the flesh-like plastic tip 
brutally into the vibrating lips of her hair-lined cunt, expanding the 
resisting, elastic opening almost to the ripping point.

Madeleine's head lurched wildly to the side and she half-screamed.

"Aaaagggghhhhh!"

Forrest chuckled evilly. It had penetrated but a cruel inch, and the 
pain-tortured, struggling young lovely tried desperately to kick her 
legs free and escape the tormenting impalement as she clawed at it with 
her hands. But it was easy for him to subdue and hold her helpless.

Oh Jesus! Mother of God! Mercy! Mercy! What kind of monster had she 
uncovered! He would rip her from one end to the other! Her cunt-lips 
were tearing ... her whole crotch splitting! The pain was unbelievable! 
Mercy ... mercy ...!

Forrest watched her with wildly excited, lustfilled eyes. He grinned 
loose-mouthed as he forced the relentless blunt weapon into her one 
more excruciating inch.

"Uuuuuuuggggggghhhhh!"

Again.

"Aaaaggggghhhhhh ... Oh God ... Stop! Stop! You're killing me ... my 
God ...!"

She shrieked and continued to shriek, twisting and writhing, kicking 
her legs high into the air as he sunk the enormous, unbelievable, 
artificial cock deeper and deeper up into her screaming cunt.

"Oh ... Ooooohhh noooo, noooo!" Madeleine sobbed almost hysterically, 
tears streaming painfully from her open but unseeing eyes. "Scream, you 
whimpering bitch!" Julian Forrest spat gleefully. "Scream! Scream! But 
you're going to take all of it ... every last inch ... and love it, do 
you hear? Love it!"

He was insane, Madeleine reasoned somewhere in the back of her tortured 
brain. He was an absolute maniac and he intended to kill her with this 
vicious thing he'd impaled up inside her helpless belly. There was no 
hope ... she'd gone too far this time. "Ooohhh.... oh God in heaven ... 
please ..." she wailed, and her sobbing, struggling protests brought a 
sudden crushing jab from his hands thrusting the torture implement into 
her, sending the giant mock-cock deep into her resisting channel, 
forcing huge ripples of tender, coral flesh in rolling swells before 
it. She lurched convulsively as the onslaught of the elephantine dildo 
smashed into her belly like some rutting brute-animal. It was an 
uncontainable instrument of torture rampaging inside her, completely, 
without question, filling her every tiniest wrinkle and crowding her 
inner organs into crushed squashes that could neither breathe nor move. 
It was lurching for her throat, trying to burst from her mouth. It was 
unbelievable torment ... medieval torture ... some horror out of the 
inquisition itself ...!

And then ... it came to an end ... the maddening pain! He withdrew it 
and plunged it into her in rapid, impossible thrusts, his fist where he 
clutched it slapping hard against her crotch. His wrist insinuated 
itself into the soft, unprotected vale of her wildly spread ass-cheeks. 
The colossal dildo nuzzled quiescently to its guarding flanges, 
interred in her pulsating and stretched cunt like some barbaric, 
chastising instrument of torture.

"Aaaa-aggg-hhh," her lovely lips breathed in welcomed relief.

"Soooo? It's good, eh, cherie?" Forrest probed excitedly. "Better than 
you ever imagined? It fills your cunt to the very depths of your tight 
little belly, doesn't it? Eh? Well? Admit it! Admit it, damn you ..."

"Yes! Yes! Go on! Fuck it!" she half screamed in her helpless 
humiliation and agony. "Ram the bastardly thing into me! Damn you, fuck 
it if that's what you want!"

Forrest threw back his head and laughed. It was even better with her 
than he could possibly have dreamed. She had taken all of it ... all of 
it ... in that tight little hole of hers! Christ! "All right! All 
right! Now it's your turn for fun ... your turn to torture me, ma 
chere!"

Madeleine heard his words, but had no idea what he was talking about. 
Her entire body was covered with a thin film of perspiration from the 
agonies of her subjugated torture, and momentarily, she wanted only to 
lie there and grow accustomed to this massive, if now, stimulating 
weapon he had rammed into her. But, he was pulling at her, trying to 
haul her to her knees and swinging his ass around to face her. "Hurry! 
Fuck my ass with it, bitch! Shove it into me just as I shoved it into 
you! Only you leave it in your cunt ... eight inches in your pussy and 
eight inches in my asshole! Well ... Godamn you, do you want me to beat 
you? Hurry!"

Madeleine couldn't believe her hearing. In her lifetime she had never 
been subjected to perversions of this length. She had heard of them ... 
the weird things that men and women did together and with those of 
their own gender, but she'd never seen nor participated ... Yet, 
something of a sado-masochistic nature swept over her and she felt her 
breaths shortening, her mouth drying in anticipation. Was it because he 
had tormented her and this was a manner of getting even? Or was it the 
very idea of what they were doing? She didn't know ... but God, she 
wanted to ... to thrust the blunt end of the lubricated dildo right up 
into his tightly puckered rectum.

Her breasts heaved as she got to her knees behind him, moving between 
his spread legs toward his hair-covered thighs and buttocks, her eyes 
fastened lewdly upon the fringed crevice of his parted ass-cheeks, the 
exciting sight of his massive, dangling balls, and the round, puckered 
entrance of his dark-brown anus. She held to the dildo thrust tight up 
into her cunt, feeling it massage warmly against her passage walls as 
she kneed herself forward, holding the eight inches of soft, protruding 
flesh-like plastic in her hand much as any man who was about to mount a 
woman might, sensing untold pleasures of sadistic delight spiral 
through her.

Open-mouthed and nearly glassy-eyed, she rotated the head of the fake 
prick around the prunelike mouth of his asshole, the movement causing 
the other end of the mighty instrument to incite new sensations within 
her own loins. God! It was unbelievable! She had never dreamed such 
distorted, depraved innovations. Her delighted loins and belly tingled 
in perverted rapture. She stared down at his tiny puckered anal 
orifice, then ran the massive simulated cock below, caressing his balls 
and slipping between his legs in tantalizing stimulation.

Dear God, she was losing all sense of perspective ... but she didn't 
care ... she didn't! She taunted his clenching asshole with her long 
fingernail. He gasped aloud and lowered his face and shoulders to the 
davenport, forcing his buttocks higher in the air. Slowly, she pressed 
her finger into the rubbery, tight orifice and he whimpered. Her eyes 
bugged and her mouth hung loose as she watched her finger slip up 
inside the clasping, sucking hole, into the warm velvety flesh, never 
stopping until the long length of her entire finger was buried there, 
the palm of her hand resting in the separating crevice between the 
cheeks of his ass, her three other fingers with their long nails 
reaching downward to taunt the base of his balls.

Her brain whirled. She was losing all sense of reason with the 
perverted pleasure overwhelming her. She was a whore! A paid, vile, 
whore ... and this was her reward! Oh God! Oh God! Help me ...!

"Get it in, damn you! What am I paying you for, you stupid cunt! Get it 
into me, you hear! In! In! In!"

She did. Unmercifully so. Pressing the bulging, rubbery head to the 
tight, drawn entrance of his rectum, she clenched her teeth and shoved 
... rammed was a better word, steeling herself to oppose the pressure 
of the inserted end into her vagina as it forced itself almost brutally 
against her cervix, hearing him scream aloud, yet, simultaneously 
forcing his buttocks back onto the invading cudgel, and she clutched at 
his hips gouging her nails into his flesh as she thrust and forced and 
ground the wicked implement right up his waiting asshole to the hilt.

"Oh ... Ohhhhhh! Fuck it! Fuck it, you stupid cunt!" he screamed back 
at her. "Don't stop, godamn you, or I'll beat you senseless!"

She didn't. She was too frightened to stop. Instead, she worked 
demonlike, knowing for the first time in her life what it might be like 
to be the male partner ... listening to him whimper and purl with 
delight as she sent the massive dildo up his passage, and at the same 
time enjoying the pleasure of the huge artificial cock that was reaming 
and exciting her pussy to an extravagant culmination.

"Bend over me! Lay your tits on my back! Hold tight, and reach around 
underneath and milk my prick. Milk it, godamn you!" Forrest wailed back 
at her as he shoved his ass back onto the inhumanly penetrating dildo, 
at the same time forcing the opposite end up deep into her cunt.

Excited with her own mounting and approaching climax, Madeleine thrust 
her loins against his bottom, forcing the plastic phallus far up his 
ass and simultaneously ramming it deeply into her quivering pussy. 
Never before had she experienced anything like this and her 
overwhelming feeling of power and maleness was almost more than she 
could bear. She had to cum ... had to have release, or she'd explode.

She lay forward onto his massive back, grinding her breasts into his 
flesh, as her hand sought his wide-spread crotch beneath, clasping his 
limp prick and milking it according to his demand, the never ceasing 
feeling of dominance growing, growing inside her, pressuring her own 
building climax toward dynamic proportions.

Insanely, she slammed the dildo into both of them, her rounded hips 
working almost fiendishly ... until suddenly, he began to wail, 
whimper, nearly scream in a child-like voice.

"Milk it! Milk it, bitch! I'm going to cum. Now ... now ... nowwwww!"

Madeleine straightened to her knees and plunged the instrument into 
him, feeling and watching her breasts quiver and jerk against her, 
sensing her own beginning stirring of climax inside her loins. She 
leaned forward once more and again began to madly milk his long, thick, 
flaccid prick ... and then he cried out as might a banshee, his arms 
flailing and his ass jumping spasmodically, even as she felt the thick, 
warm, liquid bath drain from his cock onto her hand and the davenport 
beneath, and she plunged into his ass wildly in an effort to attain her 
own release.

"Oh ... oh, don't stop!" she begged as she clung to him, but he did, 
wiggling away from her and jumping to the floor to laugh as she gaped 
at him, the lewd dildo hanging grotesquely from her tightly grasping 
cunt in an obscene picture of lewd perversion.

Forrest slapped his naked knees in delight as he stared at her. "You 
filthy slut!" he sneered. "Get your fucking things on and get out of 
here! Hurry up ... before I call Girarde and tell him what a pig you 
are!"

Madeleine stared at him in disbelieving amazement. "W-What did I do?" 
she managed, after a moment.

He sniggered brutally. "You filthy cunthole!" he hissed. "You're just 
like all the rest ... dirty, filthy whores ..." He spun about suddenly 
and ran in his nakedness for his wallet. He pulled a bill out from it 
and threw it on the floor. "There's your pay, whore! Twenty dollars! 
More than you're worth actually ... but I'll pay it to be rid of you! 
Now ... get out. Get out! You hear? Get out!"

Slowly, Madeleine arose, setting her feet upon the floor and 
extricating the double-dildo from her vagina and dropping it on the 
floor. She could hardly believe the words he'd spat at her. Whatever 
his reason for this sudden change, she had no idea ... except, that he 
might be insane. Perhaps, she was lucky. She'd never experienced 
anything like this before in her new-found profession, but then, 
nothing was impossible, was it ... was it? She didn't speak, only began 
to dress. He watched her eagerly. Her only goal now was to get out of 
there.

"Y-You're beautiful," he said suddenly as she fastened her bra. "I've 
never known anyone as good as you. But ... but now, you hate me don't 
you?"

"No-No ... I don't hate you."

"Was it good?"

"It could have been."

Forrest licked at his lips. He fondled his cock but she pretended not 
to see him. Calmly, she slipped her dress over her head, zipped, then 
found her purse and extracted comb and lipstick.

"You hate me!" he said.

She didn't look at him, only into the mirror as she applied her 
lipstick, even though her whole inner-being cringed in fear. Finally, 
she said: "I don't hate you, cheri ... you've simply disappointed me."

He took several steps toward her, then stopped. "I-I'll make it up to 
you, Madeleine. Y-You were wonderful ... I loved it! Will ... will you 
come back again?"

"Would you ... if you were me?" she questioned.

He went into his wallet and extracted another bill and came close, 
offering it to her. She took it. It was a thousand dollars. A tiny 
thrill of excitement rippled through her. It'd been worth it after all, 
hadn't it ...?

"Will you kiss me good-bye?" he asked.

"Of course."

He followed her to the door and she turned. His hands rested on her 
upper arms and he kissed her. Slowly she dropped one hand with an 
enticing motion, her fingers searching for his long, thick, flaccid 
cock. It found it and went beneath to his balls. He moved closer to 
her, his mouth opening in delight as she cupped his sac ... then, she 
began to squeeze.

In the beginning, it was a slow, tantalizing process that stimulated 
him, but then, it increased in intensity ... harder and harder and 
harder, until he squirmed and she felt his fingers tightening on her 
arms as his mouth pulled away. But she didn't let go. Instead, she 
squeezed harder suddenly, until she could feel his testicles grinding 
... crushing against each other.

And then, he screamed and screamed as he writhed and kicked at her ... 
and she laughed in his face ... finally releasing him to crumble to the 
floor as she smiled and opened the door. "Goodbye, cheri, you bastard!" 
she hissed, and then she closed the door behind her.

Walking to the elevator, Madeleine raised her chin high but her mouth 
fell into a somewhat passionate twinge of denial.

God, she thought, if only it had lasted a little longer ...



Chapter 4

Her apartment surprised Shannon. It was small with a tiny kitchenette, 
livingroom-bedroom combination plus bath, inexpensively furnished but 
neat, girlish and cozy. He nosed around. Her ancient vanity supported 
the usual array of perfumes, cold creams, powders, nail-polishes and 
sundry articles. Her closet contained a sizable display of dresses, 
skirts, blouses, shoes, wraps and coats; her lingerie, silks, hose and 
negligees were plentiful and fairly expensive. He found a man's suit, 
shirts, ties, several changes of underwear, pajamas and robe that were 
too large to belong to Tony. He grinned to himself; maybe she wasn't 
doing too badly after all.

Behind the bathroom door hung the inevitable douche-bag. Once more, he 
smiled. Tools of the trade, maybe, he mused.

Back in the main room he looked about for pictures but found none. In a 
small desk drawer he discovered a bank-book and noted that the last 
deposit was less than a week previous. The balance showed a little more 
than eighteen-hundred dollars ... Well now, that did shed a brighter 
light on things. So ... there was his stake, all in nice round even 
figures ... and just about enough. Things were looking better and 
better with every passing minute.

There was cold coffee in a pot resting on the small stove and he heated 
it; he was sitting in the one easy chair enjoying a cup when he heard 
the foot-falls approaching along the hallway outside, the key rattling 
in the lock and the door popping open with a certain angry vigor. She 
filled the opening with a decided vision of loveliness, her lack of 
surprise at seeing him there indicating that she had been advised of 
his presence by the bribed building superintendent. She banged the door 
closed behind her and stood looking at him questioningly.

"What the devil is this? I have no brothers," she lied, spitting the 
words at him in fractured English with strong French overtones. "And 
I'm damned sure that I don't know you. What do you want ... who are 
you, eh?"

Shannon smiled and arose casually, setting the cup on the table beside 
him. She was lovelier than Tony's picture had portrayed her ... taller, 
more delicate of feature and darker of eye. A minute appraisal caused 
him to speculate that her natural hair would better enhance her beauty 
than the bleached gold, but he liked the way it fell around her 
shoulders and the light touch of lip-rouge to her sensitive, wide, full 
mouth. The rest of her instigated a little hitch in his breathing that 
he struggled with, aware that the short, green minisheath she wore was 
accentuating sex in the manner its designer had intended.

"The name is Shannon," he said finally. "I'm a friend of Tony."

She tilted her head questioningly. "Tony? I don't know any ..." She 
hesitated. "You mean, Antoine ... my husband, Antoine?"

Shannon nodded. "Antoine to you ... Tony to me." He smiled. "We've been 
... shall we say ... associates for some time. Got to be pretty close 
friends. Nice kid, Tony ..."

"He's a coward and a bastard!" she snapped bitterly. "I want to forget 
that I ever knew him ... or any of his friends. Now, you can get out of 
here, eh?"

She wheeled around, jerked open the door and stepped to one side, 
holding it ajar for him. Shannon walked to it, a trace of the smile 
still playing around his mouth.

"Okay, baby," he said calmly, easing the doorknob from her grasp and 
closing it once more. "So ... old Tony's a coward and a bastard. Fine 
... any way you want it ..." He gazed at her, still appraising, his 
hard blue eyes raking her soft luscious body with obvious 
salaciousness. "But he sure knows how to choose lovely women ... and 
evidently win them."

"So?" she said, without a trace of emotion. "Just what the hell do you 
want, M'sieu ... whatever-your-name is? Did Antoine send you here ...? 
Or maybe you want a handout ... or could it be a little female 
companionship? Whatever, you've come to the wrong place ..."

Shannon felt his face reddening before her acrid, biting words. He 
studied her. Christ, she was a delightful creature, unbelievably 
tempting when she was angry; he could only guess what it would be like 
if she willingly gave herself to a man, but she had yet even to smile 
at him; his cock jerked uncontrollably in his pants. The essence of her 
perfume reached him and suddenly the blood throbbed in his temples; he 
felt the hot perspiration oozing onto his forehead and upper lip, 
coating even the palms of his hands. He was that close to her that he 
could reach out and crush her to him; he had to steel himself ... fight 
the almost overwhelming desire. The time wasn't right as yet; there 
were still several other things to be attended to, first.

Madeleine read the obvious lust in his eyes, in the twist of his not 
unhandsome mouth, and she'd noted the stirring at the front of his 
trousers. Her pink tongue-tip peeked out to moisten her full, lower-lip 
subconsciously. The aftermath of her lack of fullfillment with Julian 
Forrest was still very much in evidence in her own denied loins, but 
the fact that this intruder was a friend of Antoine's and the brazen 
manner in which he had gained entrance into her apartment tarnished the 
luster of any sensual thoughts that passed through her brain. She heard 
herself half-sneer. "Don't let your animal instincts run away with you, 
M'sieu'! I come rather high ... two hundred dollars ... even to my 
husband's vile friends."

It wasn't what she'd said, but the way she had said it that cut 
Shannon. He felt his mouth curving contemptuously and he had all he 
could do to contain himself from slapping her hard. Somehow, he kept 
control; reached beyond her to shoot the bolt on the door into its 
catch; then he walked back to the chair.

"Sit down," he ordered flatly, not looking at her. "I've got a deal for 
you."

Madeleine didn't move. Her antagonism at his uninvited, unwelcomed and 
unwanted presence was causing her to churn furiously within ... this 
along with the unsated little prurient sensations that Julian Forrest 
had aroused and sadistically left to torment her still excited and 
needing loins was both infuriating and confusing her ... in fact, she 
felt as if she might just burst out crying. She bit at her lower lip 
and said: "I'm not interested in any deals you have to offer ..."

"You will be when you hear this one," said Shannon in a confident 
monotone, still not looking at her. He found cigarettes, extracted one 
and held the package out to her. She ignored the gesture and he lighted 
his own. "I'm talking about money, baby ... much, much money ..." He 
let smoke from his lungs while his hard blue eyes focused on her once 
more. "Enough for you to get your kid back and take care of the both of 
you the rest of your lives ... Interested now?"

Madeleine had not shifted her glance from him nor moved since he'd 
closed and bolted the door. Now, in the wake of his words, she stared 
at him with widening eyes, adding a third dimension to her sudden 
frustrated emotions ... astonishment. She said: "How do you know about 
... about my child?"

Shannon smiled thinly. "Her name is Igat. She is five years old, and 
you were seventeen when she was born. Her father was an American 
salesman named Keel from Boston with whom you spent one night ... 
trading your young virginal charms for his promise to take you with him 
to the states ... but he immediately deserted you. When Igat was born 
you allowed a certain drunken Doctor Carey, who, incidentally, 
delivered you, to place the child in the home of Rafael and Madame 
Girarde here in Montreal." He continued to smile. "Stop me if I'm 
wrong," he said.

She didn't speak ... couldn't!

"You came to Montreal to be near your child, found employment waiting 
table and there met Antoine Poirier, adopted nephew of Gaston Larreau, 
the Syndicate's number-one wheel here in Canada. A real nice chap, too, 
this Larreau ... I mean, who else would make his own nephew, adopted or 
whatever, president of a company that he was using to extort beaucoup 
dollars from the public just so he could have a fall-guy? A real 
benefactor, that scrum."

Madeleine could not believe it; she could only stand there and stare at 
him. He had practically reviewed her life in a matter of minutes ...

"Want to hear more?" Shannon questioned.

She couldn't speak.

"Okay ... so, you married Antoine and the two of you were making it 
until Uncle Gaston threw your new husband to the wolves in Ottawa when 
the government turned on the heat. You went into hiding when Antoine 
was sent up in order to get away from Uncle Gaston, whom, unless I miss 
my guess, was trying to get you to play house with him. In the end, you 
wound up with the noble Ministre Of Gouvernment, Rafael Girarde, who 
not only gave you a job in one of his several night spots, but even 
hangs his clothes in your closet. I'd add that for this generous little 
favor, Girarde had arranged for you to see Igat once in awhile, just as 
long as you don't get out of line with the Madame, who'd probably play 
hell if she knew her charming husband had a mistress." Shannon sucked 
at his cigarette and let out smoke once more. "On top of all this, I'd 
guess you were operating a private little lay-business on the side ... 
probably with an exclusive clientele ... and I'd further venture that 
you're just getting back from doing a stroke of business of sorts. Now 
... how close am I to being accurate, baby ...? Or would you rather not 
say?"

Madeleine continued to gape at him, but with a bit more respect and 
less fury than she had known only moments before. Finally, she said: 
"I-I don't understand ... Where ... where did you find these things out 
... I mean, about my baby and the American, Keel ...?"

"From Tony, of course," Shannon replied. "A thousand nights we spent 
talking about it ... all of it ... until I came to feel that I knew you 
as well as he, himself, maybe, even better."

"But ... but," she shook her head, confused, "He ... he didn't know 
about Igat ... at least, I didn't think he did ..."

"Oh, he knew all right, Baby," Shannon assured her. "Uncle Gaston made 
sure he knew, and so did a little girl named Ginny Novak, Larreau's 
mistress ... before he had her dumped into the drink ... quite dead. 
I'm sure you remember that episode."

Madeleine shuddered; she remembered all right. She shook her head, as 
if to rid herself of the horrible memory. Momentarily, she swayed 
slightly and the room seemed to waver before her. Shannon read the 
symptoms, arose quickly and caught her by the arms, helping her to a 
straight-back chair beside the small kitchen table. He eased her down 
onto it and watched her erect full breasts rise and fall as she 
breathed in short measured gasps.

"You have any brandy?" he asked her, taking her wrist between his big 
hands and chafing them.

"B-Bourbon ... in the cupboard," she said, pointing with a nod of her 
head.

He found it and poured substantially into a waterglass, handing it to 
her. Madeleine sipped, then lay back in the chair, stretching out her 
long shapely legs, the tiny skirt of her dress hardly covering two-
inches of her full and rounded nylon-encased thighs as she slumped 
downward into the seat. He swallowed tightly, his eyes locking on the 
tiny wisp of sheer white panties that V'd tightly at her enticing 
crotch above the juncture where the soft, warm white flesh of her 
thighs brushed each other. He forced himself to turn away, then poured 
a lengthy measure of the liquor into a glass and downed it. When he 
turned around again she had raised herself up and adjusted her dress.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"O-Oui ... I think so." She let off a long sigh and rubbed her hand 
over her forehead. "P-Please, M'sieu' Shannon ... sit down ..."

But he didn't; instead, he stood there, his eyes moving over her, 
stripping her hungrily, a certain lasciviousness that she had not seen 
before coming to light in them. Once more, she felt a tiny shudder 
creep over her. She watched him wet his dry lips with his tongue and 
saw his hands clenching and unclenching slowly, as the stirring began 
at the front of his trousers again.

"You ... you spoke of a deal ... and much money," she managed, 
realizing suddenly that the magnetism of his obvious arousal was 
generating its silent communication like an electric current, 
immediately provoking her own unfulfilled desire once more. "Wh-what 
did you mean ...?"

He took two steps toward her and stopped, holding out his hand; he was 
so close to her that if she dropped her eyes from his face they would 
be level with the swollen, throbbing member in his pants. Her breathing 
shortened as automatically she gave him her hand and he said: "That can 
wait ... this can't ... not another damned agonizing minute."

Madeleine gasped as he placed her hand against the rock-hardness of his 
prick and an uncontrollable tingle of excitement rippled through her. 
My God! Had she become that much of a slut that she couldn't control 
herself at the mere touch of a man's erect penis? What kind of bitch am 
I becoming ...? Her brain reeled, much as had the room itself only a 
few moments before ...

"P-Please ... no ..." she stammered, trying to pull her hand free and 
get to her feet, but he held her hand fast against the outline of his 
jerking cock and drew her up tight to him, crushing her full pointed 
breasts into his chest.

"Five years ..." he hissed between his strong, white teeth, his breath 
hot against her face, "five long years since I've had a woman ... and 
I'm going to fuck you, lovely Madeleine, if it's the last thing I ever 
do in this lifetime. You hear?"

He kissed her then, his mouth slamming down brutally against her own 
soft wet one, engulfing her lush ruby-like lips entirely within his 
own, his tongue knifing out to slice between her lips and against her 
teeth savagely, his big hot hands immediately finding the firm, fleshy 
moons of her buttocks to clutch and knead lustfully, while her hand 
imprisoned between them was filled with the growing hardness of his 
long thick jumping shaft as he ground his pelvis ravenously into the 
softness of her belly and loins.

Madeleine couldn't hold back the little gasps she emitted into his 
mouth, while the lewd promise he had just made her ricocheted wildly 
about in her brain, along with the undeniable masculine assurance of 
the pledge she held in her hand ... and suddenly she was stroking and 
caressing it in her rekindled passion and anticipation. God, she wanted 
it ... had to have it to quench the tormenting flames Julian Forrest 
had left burning inside her.

Finally, he raised his head and whispered: "Just one thing, Angel ... I 
thing you're going to have to put these on the cuff ... and I do mean 
these ... because I'm going to fuck you from now right straight through 
until sometime tomorrow ... until neither of us has enough energy to 
move a muscle ... not one fucking muscle ... then, we'll talk some 
business ..."

"Oh ... Oh, God, Cheri!" Madeleine whimpered, pressing her mouth up 
tightly against his while simultaneously her hand squeezed his 
throbbing cock and her tiny tongue searched his mouth excitedly. "Oui, 
Oui! Please ... I want you to ... I want you to ... but, we will do it 
my way, eh? Let me make you happy. You've waited so long ... and now it 
must be wonderful for you ... such beautiful love-making that you'll 
never forget it ... ever, ever ..."

"Christ!" Shannon gasped, his prick aching and dancing to the soft 
massaging caresses of Poirier's wife's hand until he was certain he'd 
cum in his pants if she didn't stop. "What the hell are we waiting for? 
Get those godamned clothes off ..."

Now, she smiled at him for the first time and he felt as if he were 
going to melt at the splendor of the sight. "No, Cheri, no ... not like 
that," she was saying as she half freed herself and led him over to the 
chair. She pressed him down into it and stood before him. "It mustn't 
just be a tearing off of our clothes and going at each other. Please 
... let me make it beautiful for you ... as it will be for me, if only 
you will let me ...?"

Shannon was breathing like a rutting moose. His prick stuck out in his 
pants with the prominence of a center tent-pole. He stared at the 
unbelievably enchanting girl before him, skeptically. Whatever in hell 
had come over her, he didn't know or understand, only that it was 
almost too fantastic to be true ... like some kind of dream, and God 
knows, he'd had enough of those the past few years ... but he could 
wait that much longer ... as long as she wasn't trying to pull 
something ... like run outside and start screaming rape ... Christ, 
he'd kill her if she tried anything like ...

"You don't understand, do you, Cheri?" she questioned, smiling warmly, 
excitedly, and moving away from him to where he had left the bourbon 
beside the sink. "And you don't know whether you trust me or not, eh? 
Yet, you come here to offer me some kind of deal ... Did it ever occur 
to you that I might not trust you either ... that, we have only known 
each other but a few short minutes ... yet, already, I feel that I've 
known you a hundred years?" She looked at him, her eyes sparkling with 
mounting delight as she took ice from the refrigerator and made them 
drinks.

She didn't say anymore and he watched her every move hungrily. Damn, he 
had never seen such a magnificent body on a girl ... and he was going 
to go out of his damned mind if he didn't have her soon.

To Madeleine, it was as if she had suddenly been catapulted into some 
new world of fantasia, yet, for the life of her she couldn't reason 
why. Nothing had happened to change her existence ... except the sudden 
presence of this American ... this handsome, masculine American who had 
forced his way into her apartment ... into her life ... for as sure as 
he sat there before her, she was going to fall in love with him ... and 
there was nothing, she knew, absolutely nothing she could do to avoid 
it.

Dear God, let him be gentle, kind and loving to me ... Please God, I 
beg You.

Shannon watched the provocative movements of her soft, sensual body as 
she brought his drink, then, sat down on his lap, her short dress 
hiking up carelessly to reveal the satin-like white flesh of her thighs 
above her hose. She slipped her arm around his neck and lay back 
against him, cradled in his arms, her round full buttocks shifting and 
undulating over his rock-hard prick.

"Oui, mon cher, I've known you a hundred years," she whispered to him. 
She leaned close and kissed him with tender, wet lips. "Drink your 
drink. I made it strong to relax you ... unwind you ... I want you just 
right for my love-making, eh?"

Shannon swallowed tightly. In a minute he'd wake up. He gulped half the 
bourbon-water away, feeling it burn pleasantly in his throat and belly.

"Better?" she asked.

"Fine ... except I think I'm going to burst."

She tittered lightly, a little chill of excitement racing through her 
as she felt the hardness jerking against her bottom. "And now ..." she 
said softly, "you want to make love to me, don't you, Cheri!"

Shannon grunted some unintelligible sound.

She pressed her lips close to his ear and whispered. "I can feel your 
wonderful love tool against my behind, Cheri. Mmmmmmm, it feels so good 
..." She ground her buttocks atop of him and heard him launch into 
deeper, heavier breathing. "Now ... you sit right here and watch me, 
mon cher ... I'm going to undress for you, eh?"

Like a wood-sprite, she was off his lap and out of his reach, only a 
few feet away, but to Shannon it was almost as if he were gaping 
through her bedroom window, for she went about the delightful 
performance as if she were alone in the apartment. He watched her tiny, 
minidress slip to the floor about her feet as she moved slowly, 
provocatively, not looking at him, with never the slightest trace of 
obscenity to her movements. Her nonchalance caused his cock to jerk 
wildly in his pants and he gulped at his drink once more. Then, she 
turned her back to him and bent down to retrieve her dress, the full 
rounded orbs of her buttocks causing his erection to lurch once more as 
he gaped at the sheer white nylon strip of her panties tightening 
snugly between her firm, full thighs, slipping tauntingly into the 
soft, rounded crevice of her buttocks to remain, caught there as she 
straightened up and moved toward the closet to hang her dress. He 
stared after her, his breath knotted in his throat, while she crossed 
the room, her magnificent, rounded ass-cheeks quivering enticingly as 
she walked.

Shannon raised his glass to his lips and drained it. His brain whirled 
in wild, ever-increasing lust at the beautiful, erotic sight taking 
place before him. Christ, she was extraordinarily lovely ... as Maggi 
had once been lovely ... but this enticing creature ... Christ! He 
never remembered seeing such gorgeous legs, such texture of skin, such 
grace of movement.

He gaped at her in panties and bra, garterbelt and hose ... her high-
heels ... Maggi had never looked like that ... no other woman had ever 
set him off this way ... shit ... five long years ... he was going to 
flip ...!

She came toward him. "You like me, Cheri?" she said down to him, 
suddenly standing between his outstretched legs, her panties and bra 
gone and he hadn't even seen her remove them ... her magnificent 
breasts, so full, so erect, their dark red nipples distended at their 
tips, the breathtaking contours of her body ... the black, silken 
fleece at the base of her smooth, white young belly ... He gulped. Her 
hose and garter-belt and heels were the final touches to blow his mind.

"Y-You're ... you're too much, Baby ... absolutely beautiful," Shannon 
hissed between his teeth, the glass falling from his hand to the floor, 
not breaking, but being ignored by both of them.

She lowered herself slowly to her knees before him and between his 
legs. "Now, Cheri," she whispered softly, looking up at him, a facet of 
mysterious light dancing on her moist lips and in her eyes as it might 
upon a chest of rare gems, "I must see you!"

Shannon made no move of his own while she unbuckled his belt, opened 
the waist and unzipped his trousers. His breath was a lump in his 
throat, his hardly believing mind a turmoil of lust, as her soft cool 
hand slid inside the cotton of his shorts to slowly grasp his prick and 
maneuver it out into the room with them. He grunted loudly at her touch 
and felt it lurch spasmodically in her hand.

"Oh God, Cheri!" she gasped, her eyes engorging themselves on the rigid 
hardness of the long, thick member. "It's beautiful ... beautiful ...! 
And I'm going to love it so much ... Oh, I know it's going to make me 
so happy ..."

Shannon groaned again as her small, long-fingered hand almost, but not 
quite, encircled his shaft, and he saw the tiny drops of lubricating 
fluid that oozed from its tip in his mounting lust. He watched as if 
hypnotized as her white gentle hand massaged and stroked it, drawing 
the heavy foreskin back and forth, up and down ... and then, all of a 
sudden, she leaned over it, her tiny pink tongue flicking out to lick 
away the moisture at its tip and he gasped and reached for both of her 
full, lush breasts, cupping and squeezing them in his big greedy hands, 
feeling their hard pulsating nipples press teasingly into his palms as 
slowly she lowered her head and her tender, wet, lipstick-rimmed lips 
ovalled, warmly encircling his cock.

Down ... down ... down. Her head seemed to go as she absorbed his 
throbbing prick up into the warm, moist enclosure of her mouth, her 
tongue lashing and working against its heavy veined, hard flesh in 
tantalizing rhythm, and then as she raised her head and her ovalled, 
clasping lips sucked their way to its very tip he could feel the 
incredible swirling motions of her tongue, until finally, its point 
taunted and exploded the tiny orifice at its end.

Christ! He was going to lose his mind! It was out of this world ... he 
had to get his clothes off and get at her before his balls burst like 
an exploding firecracker!

"Wait!" he gasped hoarsely, pushing her back and moving to his feet 
around her, tearing at his clothes savagely. "I can't wait any longer! 
I've got to fuck you between the legs, now! Understand? Now!"

"Oui, oui, Cheri. I understand," she said almost breathlessly, getting 
quickly to her feet and going to the bed to stretch out enchantingly 
before him, watching his frantic efforts to strip himself ... and then, 
he was on top of her, his hot hungry mouth all over her face and lips, 
his tongue sinking deeply into her mouth and throat as his hands 
kneaded her heavy, swollen breasts and explored her body ravenously.

Expertly, she maneuvered him between her spread thighs and whispered: 
"Hurry, mon cher let me draw the tension out of you this first time ... 
don't think of me ... just yourself ... Fuck me hard and shoot your 
cream into me until you're all relaxed ..."

She reached down beneath her thighs which she drew up quickly, and he 
felt her cool hand take his prick. Her touch once more sent a shock 
into his rigid flesh and his uncircumcised foreskin ripped back as she 
gently guided him at her vagina, until he could feel the moist fleshy 
warmth and the soft, tickling curls of her pubic hair grazing against 
his shaft, waiting for its entry.

"Oh Cheri. Cheri!" she whispered, losing the words in a groan which 
broadened and deepened as he lunged madly into her.

Her moist heat clasped him like a warm, resisting, velvet glove, and he 
swore aloud vilely as he began to pump and thrust vigorously up into 
her upturned pussy, long, urgent strokes that filled her receptive cunt 
to greater and greater depths.

Beneath him, her body quivered and trembled and her pebble-hard nipples 
pushed into him with a pointed, erect pressure; her warm soft belly 
brushed against his and her thighs clamped and unclamped, holding and 
releasing him as the warm clasping inner-muscles of her cunt sucked and 
pulled toward his much needed release.

"Oh ... oh, Christ!" he groaned as he felt the velvety sheath of her 
cunt squeezing and sucking along the full length of his lust-crazed rod 
of hardened flesh.

"Cheri. Cheri, mon Dieu ... oui, oui ... fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!" 
Madeleine whispered over and over again as she bucked and writhed in 
under him. "Cream into me, darling, cream into me!"

Her face moved from side to side; marks appeared on her lips where she 
bit them, and every so often her mouth came against his and her teeth 
bit into him and she sucked his tongue, then forced her own between his 
lips, gasping warm breaths into his throat.

"Oh ... Oh ... Oh!" Shannon gasped, his mouth falling open loosely. "I 
can't hold it back, Baby! Christ, it's going to cum!" he blurted as he 
ceaselessly pounded his inflated cock deep into her white, rounded 
little belly with long cruel strokes. He could feel the hot, white 
sperm amassing within the reservoir of his throbbing balls as they beat 
a tattoo against her marvelously naked and upturned ass. Wildly, he 
thrust his tongue far down her throat and with harsh kneading hands, 
clutched the wide open cheeks of her lush white buttocks hard up 
against his ramming pelvis, while he slammed his now spewing cock 
brutally into her unresisting cunt.

"Oui ... Oui! Cum Cum, mon cher! Fill me! Fill me!" Madeleine urged him 
salaciously, at the same time, feeling the carnal delight taking place 
inside her as the turgid, pulsating head of his deeply sunk cock 
suddenly flared into a hugeness that threatened to mangle and tear her 
inner organs. It began to spurt! She could feel the delicious hot, 
white liquid shooting into her with the force of molten fire, sloshing 
around her dilated womb like great streams of searing lava.

Oh God, how she wished she could cum with him at that very moment, but 
she couldn't ... she couldn't ... not yet ... almost, but not quite ... 
Oh God ... Oh God! Her eyes were closed and all of the time he shot 
into her, her mouth worked and trembled and her neck was strained as 
she thrust back her head in the intensity of her feeling ... and then, 
trembling, he relaxed on top of her, and she put her arms around him, 
laying beneath him, neither of them speaking for several minutes. 
Finally, he rolled partially off her but she wouldn't let him go 
entirely, even after his limp member slid out of her; instead, she 
cradled him there between her wide-spread thighs and drew his head down 
to rest against her full, soft breasts.

"It was good, Cheri?" she whispered.

"Damn," he sighed. "It was ... it was ... hell, there's no way to 
describe it, Baby ... It was terrific."

"I'm glad," she said into his ear. "My stomach feels full of you and I 
wanted it to be ... and now you're relaxed ..."

"For a minute," he said, his cheek pressed into the soft, resilient 
warmth of her heavy breast. He pursed his lips oddly, kissing the 
satin-smooth flesh almost from the side of his mouth, then taunting it 
with his tongue as he moved closer to the nipple and sucked it between 
his lips in the same side fashion. "But a hell of a long ways from 
being satisfied, Angel ... as you'll see in a minute."

His words caused a new and titillating sensation to spiral through 
Madeleine's still impassioned body. God, already she loved him. It was 
insane and unfeasible, ridiculous ... even impossible ... but it was 
true! She loved him ... and she didn't even know his name ... not his 
whole name. She ran her hand over his short cropped hair while his 
tongue and lips, nibbling and taunting her erect nipple, sent chilling 
fermentations jolting through her. She managed: "Ch-Cheri ... I don't 
even know your name ...?"

"Shannon," he mumbled against her breast.

"That's all?"

"That's enough."

"I ... I think I love you, Shannon," she whispered.

He didn't answer, but he smiled a little to himself. It was going 
better than he could ever have possibly dreamed. What more could he 
ask? Christ, she was a luscious bitch ... and with enough loot in the 
bank to set his little operation in motion beautifully. His smile 
broadened: he thought, if old Tony could only see him now with his cock 
planted deep between his sweet young wife's widespread legs ... poor 
bastard ...

"Did you hear me, Shannon, cheri?" she interrupted his thoughts. "I 
think I love you ..."

"I heard you," be answered softly. "What do you want me to say?"

"Nothing ... I guess ... yet. But ... you will be good to me ... gentle 
and kind ... you won't hurt me ...?"

Again, it wasn't her words as much as her sincerity of tone that 
touched him. He felt like a rotten ass. He raised his head and looked 
down into her beautiful face. Her lovely dark eyes were moist and her 
parted lips wet, intoxicating, in her emotional and unbidden desire. He 
lay his lips tenderly against hers and felt her tremble beneath him. 
Then, he said: "We're going to make a half million dollars, Angel ... 
you and I ... and we're going to take back Igat and go a long, long way 
from here ... together ... the three of us ... Now, how does that sound 
to you?"

Slowly, his statement registered and her eyes widened in amazement. She 
repeated: "A ... a half-million dollars ...? Mon Dieu! What are you 
saying? How, Cheri? Please ... please, don't make fun of me ..."

Shannon grinned down at her. "It's anything but that, little girl," he 
said convincingly. "A half-million ... that's what Gaston Larreau's 
going to pay for the return of his one and only child ... That's right, 
Baby ... I'm going to kidnap and hold Annette Larreau for ransom ... 
and you're going to help me ..."

Madeleine felt her muscles tighten and her breath hitch at even the 
mention of the little czar's name, let alone the incredible words that 
followed. An icy clamminess crept over her and she caught his face 
between her hands to hold it up where she could see and study it. She 
said: "You ... You can't mean what you said ...?"

"Every word."

"M-Mon Dieu! It's insane! He'd kill you ... both of us! Believe me, 
Shannon, I know him. It's impossible. Please ... tell me that you're 
joking ...?"

Shannon grinned down at her frightened, beautiful face. He kissed her, 
then began to run his hand down over her breast and ribs tauntingly, 
exploring really for the first time. She trembled lightly beneath his 
touch. He said: "We'll talk later, cheri, when we've less to do. Plenty 
of time ... right now, I want some more of you ... only this time, it's 
your turn little girl."

"B-But ... oh ... oh ... my Shannon ... my Shannon," she moaned 
receptively as she felt his thick member stirring against her thigh 
once more and she let her arms slip around his neck while he eased his 
tongue deep into her mouth and she began to suck gently on it, nibbling 
with tiny sharp nips of her small white teeth, sending new spasms to 
run the length of his spine. At last, she said: "Oh my cheri ... my 
cheri ... I'll do anything you say ... just love me ... I need you so 
badly ... Oh, don't ever leave me, mon cher ... I'll do anything ... 
anything you say ...!"



Chapter 5

Madeleine pressed her thigh up against his crotch, bringing his cock to 
a hurting hardness once more. Shannon grunted, feeling the wetness from 
its seminal weeping at the tip of the turgid, rubbery head.

 "Oh, my Shannon, cheri ... you make me so happy ... I-I want to know 
every inch of you," she whispered, running her fingers through his 
hair, her breath warm and sweet in his face. He still lay atop of her 
and she kissed him, darting her tongue up into his mouth again as he 
moved his hands down beneath her to the smoothness of her buttocks, 
cradling the soft round spheres in his palms and splayed fingers. She 
clung tightly to him, then ran her hands exploringly down over his lean 
hard flesh, pale from his long incarceration, searching eagerly into 
the private hollows of him. Her head swam with the thrilling delight of 
the moment, with the anticipation of her fulfillment to come. Dear God, 
how she needed him ... how she was always going to need him ... how she 
would love him forever and ever and ever ...!

His cock pressed almost savagely against her thighs, its generous head 
splitting the narrow, hair-lined slit of her cunt-lips as it lay poised 
and ready, as if it might plunge into her again at any unknown second. 
The thought induced her to lift her hips suddenly, raising both of them 
while she moved her arms around beneath her buttocks and with the 
fingertips of both hands, spread her soft, fleshy vaginal lips more 
open to him, offering an even greater tensing contact for his prick 
with her moist, sensitive cuntal flesh. Then she dropped back onto the 
bed, his throbbing rod caught tightly between her thighs.

Shannon's own brain began to swirl once more with the erotic pleasures 
of her inviting body. Christ, he'd forgotten it could be like this ... 
that a man could completely lose all sense of perspective once he lay 
caught between a lovely woman's legs ... and this was the most enticing 
creature he had ever known ... but he wasn't going to kid himself ... 
she was no amateur ... no dainty godamned little flustered wife who had 
suddenly lost her husband to the law and was waiting patiently on the 
shelf for his return ... This delightful, breathtaking bitch had 
somehow become a seasoned whore in unsuspecting Tony's absence, and he, 
Shannon, intended to take full advantage of her talents, as well as her 
bank-balance ... and on top of that he was going to make her love it.

He trailed his hands over the soft curves of her naked body and she 
began a slow, rhythmic undulation with her hips; he could feel the long 
smooth muscles and cords beneath the sun-tinted flesh ripple lightly, 
indicating a hidden, unexpected strength he had not noticed before. In 
his mind he could feel the soft but powerful sinews of her thighs 
gripping at his back again when he buried his cock into her.

She whined, cat-like, and mashed her lips against his, writhing her 
smooth flat belly tight up to him, her long nails raking the flesh of 
his back as he drew her naked loins up tighter to him. He tasted the 
delicious sweetness of her desire-heated mouth as he moved up and down 
slowly, the insinuated full-length of his hardness massaging her 
widespread cuntal slit that was wrapped so warmly and wetly around his 
shaft, and growing more wet with every passing second; he felt her 
firm, full buttocks tauten and relax in his hands as she began a more 
frantic rotation up against his loins, until at last, her legs shot out 
wide to the left and right of his naked, grinding body, her calves 
returning to encircle and press against the backs of his thighs in an 
effort to pull and lock him tighter into her.

"Oooohhh ... now, Cheri ... now! Fuck me ... please ... fuck me before 
I go mad!" she groaned against his lips, her panting breath hot in his 
face, her hand darting down between them to grasp his throbbing prick 
and guide it further into her between the fleshy, hair-fringed lips of 
her moist, quivering cunt.

Shannon grunted loudly at her touch, unable to hold himself back any 
longer, and with a decisive movement of his hips, drove his pulsating 
shaft with a flesh-resounding smack deep into the grasping hot mouth of 
her wanting pussy.

"Oooohhhh," she whimpered pleasurably under him, while the amazing 
tightness of her moist velvety passage walls sheathed his sensitive, 
steel-hard spear of flesh with a skilled muscle control that raised 
another guttural grunt of delight from deep in his throat.

He thrust viciously, sending his long, aching cock up into her warm 
tight cunt with hellish force, driving and pounding, the flow of her 
lubrication fluids mixed with his own sperm from before, easing the way 
with each plunge, until at last the blood-inflated head of his heavy 
rod struck bottom and his balls slapped hard between the smooth rounded 
cheeks of her desperately clenching ass.

Madeleine wailed with the pain-pleasure and writhed in a moment of 
brief agony beneath him as the bloated head of his cock rammed and 
pummeled the depths of her secret womanhood, but her cry of torment 
only incited him to greater lust and he drove harder, grinding his 
pelvis solidly into her soft loins, flexing the head at the apex of his 
thrust to raise a further groan of masochistically desired pain from 
her, then, he paused momentarily to allow his own ache from his vicious 
entry to deplete itself.

Little purling sounds of servitude continued to tumble from her lips as 
she lay beneath him completely subjugated to his meagerest whim, 
entirely impaled by his lust-famished, heavy cock probing the very 
intricate depths of her warm soft belly, and a never before feeling of 
sadistic power came over him, causing him to tormentingly flex the hot, 
blood-engorged head again and again, raising a series of gurgling moans 
from between her erotically delighted, gnashing teeth.

She labored tautly up against him and he ground harder into the hot, 
moist flesh, feeling her arch her crotch needfully up to him, lifting 
both of their bodies from the bed while she whimpered incessantly and 
he began his thrusting cock-tempo once again. He felt her strong legs 
tighten and release around him at his hips as she started to work up 
and down his hardened stalk of flesh with her clasping pussy, until 
they had established a mutual rhythm and her head started to loll in an 
ungovernable pattern from side to side, while her mouth opened and 
closed in delicious abandon.

"Oh, Mon Dieu! My handsome cheri ... You're magnificent ...! I love 
you! Don't ever leave me ... promise you'll never leave me ... Oh, mon 
Cher ... it's such a beautiful cock ... I must have it with me always 
to fill my cunt like it is right now. Oh God ... Cheri, tonight I'll 
suck and kiss it until dawn ... Oui ... Oui! Ooohhhh, mon cher, do 
more! Do more! Hurt me! Make me your woman ... your slave ... Put your 
finger in my ass! Please ... please ... hurry! Oui, hurt me, my lover!" 
she begged like a wild bitch in heat in the uncontrolled throes of her 
ecstatic trance.

Her plea set off a near maddening current of sensation within him, 
fostering a new tremor of licentious lust to race furiously to his 
cock, his brain, and his groping hands. He searched in under her and 
found the wide-spread crevice between her rounded buttocks while he 
pounded his ever-growing prick into the soft wetness of her seething 
cunt. He sought her tiny, hairless anus with his middle finger, 
trailing along the velvety smoothness of the undulating furrow, finding 
it without difficulty ... and finding it wet from a thin rivulet of 
warm seepage that had dribbled down from where his cock pleasurably 
sawed into her. She shivered in carnal delight as he taunted the 
puckered little hole, lubricating the tiny orifice with the balled pad 
of his index finger before teasing and probing it with the firm tip. He 
sensed her lovely ass press back onto the stiffened digit while he 
pressed hard into it, surprised at first at its resistance ... then, 
all of a sudden, it popped, its elastic ring of rubbery flesh seeming 
to open like a small mouth to absorb and suck his finger inside to the 
first knuckle joint. She lurched beneath him, almost as if she were 
trying to escape the sudden invasion.

"Oh ... oooohhhh! Oui, oui! You hurt me so tenderly, mon cher. Oui ... 
more ... more! Mon Dieu, my lover ...! Hurt me ... fuck me harder ... 
harder ... harder!"

Shannon was wild in his own building rapture. He'd never before 
realized ... dreamed perhaps ... but never believed it could happen to 
him ... that there actually lived such passionate, passionate females 
... His brain was a saturated, spongelike component of lust. He thrust 
his imbedded finger further up into her clasping asshole, as 
simultaneously he increased the stroke of his pillaging cock into the 
warm, wet channel of her cunt, and felt her soft smooth rectum walls 
the length of his long probing finger to the palm of his hand, causing 
her to cry aloud with the wanted, masochistic pleasure-pain that had 
unquestionably seized all control of her soft, naked flesh.

She skewered her buttocks shamelessly back down onto the distended 
finger, searching, thrusting, encircling the elastic depths of her back 
channel, seeming to revel on its unnatural presence as he rotated it 
unmercifully inside the warm, rubbery cavern of her rectum, while at 
the same time, he could feel the in-and-out thrusts of his heavy cock 
through the thin, fleshy partition separating the two entrances of her 
passages ... feeling his cock with his exploring, pummeling finger, and 
his finger against the sensitivity of his pounding, aching prick.

Shit! It was too much! He was going to flip his fucking mind if he 
didn't cum again soon!

He sought to establish a combination of finger and cock, until he was 
fucking into her with furious unison in his effort to bring her to 
climax, while she groaned and writhed unceasingly beneath him. She 
spread her long white legs to the fullest in order to give him the 
greatest access to this unnatural ravishment of her sensitive sexual 
genitals, and all of a sudden, he sensed his prick expanding more and 
more ... growing inside her to that point where he was certain it would 
erupt like a boiling volcano from the ever-increasing, needle-like 
pressure building unbelievably in his already bloated balls that were 
smacking in steady cadence down between her smooth grinding buttocks 
and against his own probing hand with finger buried far in the secret 
depths of her asshole.

Christ, he thought, he couldn't last much longer! She was too much for 
his unpracticed staying-power. Damn ... he didn't want to disappoint 
her; he needed her ... both her ass and her money ... but his cock was 
ready to shatter with the load he was going to blow through it! Hell, 
he couldn't hold it back, was all ... not much longer, and that was for 
damned certain! Christ ...!

He began slamming into her with longer, harder strokes as his finger 
gouged her wide-stretched rectum wildly. She gripped him tight over his 
back with her thighs, her face contorted in a wild mask of animal lust 
and he hoped dazedly that she was getting ready to cum. He just 
couldn't last another minute, that's all there was to that! Christ ... 
Then, he heard her begin to moan and whimper like an animal, little 
guttural sounds that were coming from deep in her throat, and he felt 
her strong working thighs opening and closing around him as she thrust 
upward onto his cock and backward onto his finger to the tempo of his 
savage ravaging of her loins.

"Ooooohhhh ... harder, Cheri. Fuck harder! Harderrrr!" Madeleine 
coughed, then spewed forth a barrage of foul and obscene words as she 
drove her heels high into the flesh of his back. Abruptly, she drew up 
her legs, raising them up over his shoulders, presenting him with the 
full, wide-spread plain of her beautiful, upraised crotch. Her eyes, 
like her teeth, were locked securely together, while her face twisted 
and strained as her orgasm came onto her.

"Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! J'arrive! Oui! Oui! cherie ... I'm 
cuuuummmiinnngggg!"

She whimpered, cried out, then actually screamed, pulling her thighs 
back tighter until the whole of her hungrily sucking vaginal slit was 
offered up to him to take as he wished. She thrust her crotch 
ceilingward with bruising force, her mouth falling open loosely, her 
nostrils flaring, wail after wail escaping her as she screwed herself 
up onto his battering cock and clung there while the hot, moist walls 
of her cunt milked desperately at his prick like the mouth of a 
starving child.

Her uncontrollable ecstasy drove him on and he continued to hammer into 
her as he felt the warm gushes of wet, sticky fluid bathe his 
plundering cock, flooding his shaft and balls, and as she jerked and 
lurched beneath him spasming wildly, the mouth and lips of her channel 
drawing at him feverishly, her breath laboring in short, deep gasps, 
Shannon sensed his own hot, wet sperm race the length of his prick in 
stimulating rapture, wracking his lean frame as it squirted from the 
top of his cock far, far up into her soft quivering belly. It convulsed 
and spewed in never ending bliss inside her and she ground her still 
hungrily nibbling pussy possessively up tight against its buried 
depths.

"Oh, oui, oui, mon cher ... pump all of it into me! All of it! It's 
mine ... mine ... mine! Your cream is mine!" she mumbled, her thighs 
quaking, her belly trembling with the unleashed pool of warm pleasure 
he was emptying into her. Until, at last, he fell heavily relaxed on 
top of her and once more she encircled him inside her caressing arms.

She sighed from deep in her breast, her legs falling limp, shamelessly, 
while her heart pounded in her chest. Her body had been fulfilled at 
last ... and Oh God, how fulfilled ...

"Cheri.... mon cheri," she whispered. "I love you ... You believe me, 
eh?"

Shannon swallowed and gave off a long sigh of his own. "I believe you, 
Baby."

"And we will be very happy ... I know ... won't we, Cheri.

"Very ... once we get all that money, we have to be happy, Angel ... 
Money's the secret."

"And we will get my baby? My little Igat ...?"

"Of course, we'll get her," said Shannon, finally rolling off her to 
the side, on his back. "You never signed any papers with the Girardes, 
did you?"

Madeleine turned toward him and raised to one elbow, her magnificent 
breasts brushing against him pendulously. "Papers?" she repeated, then 
slowly shook her head. "There were never any papers, cheri."

"Good," he said. "Then, there's no question. Igat is still legally your 
child, and we'll get her when we're ready ... after we take care of the 
Larreau business."

His confident words sent a thrill of elation soaring through Madeleine. 
She clutched at his arm tightly. Dear God, they were going to be so 
happy, just the three of them ... "Tell me, Cheri. what do you want me 
to do? How can I help?"

Shannon smiled, then rolled toward her. He said: "Well now ... you just 
lay quiet, Baby, keep your legs open and I'll tell you all about it 
..."



Chapter 6


Annette Larreau could not definitely pinpoint the exact moment in her 
twenty-two years when she first contemplated suicide; it was as if the 
idea had been haphazardly floating around in her brain as far back as 
she could remember, before all of her father's mistresses, before 
"Cousin" Antoine had been sent to prison and his Madeleine had 
disappeared, before the evil ogre who had first her committed her 
mother to an institution for the mental deficient when she was ten, 
even prior to the time when she had come to understand that the name 
Larreau was synonymous with every conceivable vice and evil imagined or 
otherwise, and that her father was lord-governor of the domain.

All the same, she had never tried it, nor was it a mania or fixation 
with her, any more than did she fall into morbid states of depression 
or dwell on the subject when she was with the select few people she 
called friends. The simple explanation was that she had long ago 
decided she was a social freak and had always been, that the sight of 
her name in the elite gossip columns nauseated her, that she did not 
belong and in general, was not wanted; but she was that novelty piece, 
the risque bit, the notorious daughter of the nefarious Gaston Larreau, 
crime czar; and her first and immediate appearance at any function 
always made for a delightful raising of eyebrows and exciting under-
the-breath conversation. The entire picture of her whole life had been, 
presently was, and would be as long as she existed, a waste, and she 
had no desire to continue on with it further. It was that simple; the 
time had finally come to put an end to things, but the question was, 
how?

Being of the new, mod, non-violent generation, she abhorred guns, 
knives and the like, and the mere thought of strangulation by hanging 
one's self, or administering poison, even wrist-slashing, seemed 
nothing short of crude, abominable methods. An overdose of sleeping 
potions was probably the more practical and less painful approach, 
however, a little item on the back page of the Montreal Star had 
finally helped her to make up her mind. It was a short and concise 
piece that told of a young man being found in his apartment, dead from 
an overdose of heroin: thus, Annette Larreau decided to become an 
addict first ... a corpse later, once the novelty wore off.

There was one more issue of importance to be taken into consideration 
she thought, as she drove her sporty red, Karmann-Ghia south on Highway 
9 from Quebec City where she had spent a "square-peg" few days with old 
Laval schoolmates, and that was the disposition of the sleek, noble 
beast seated erectly on the seat beside her ... the future of her 
gallant and faithful Great Dane, Sir Launcelot. He was devoted to her 
and she loved him with a depth of feeling that went far beyond the 
shallow emotions peculiar to the human animal; she loved him as no 
woman ever loved even her lover, and the thought of leaving him behind 
to the unmercy of the world raised tears each time it crossed her mind. 
Yet, she had only to look into his great brown eyes to know that she 
couldn't bring herself to take his life; still, neither could she bear 
to leave him behind to some worse fate ... Dear God, she did love him 
so ...!

He was the only meaningful thing her father had ever given her, and she 
had raised him from a pup, raised, trained and taught him that his 
entire existence was meant to fill the void in her life. She had 
treated him as a human, never an animal, showering her love upon him 
and demanding the same in return. Her Launcelot had never known 
copulation with another dog for she had denied him that, jealously so, 
but in place of a bitch dog she had given him herself, patiently 
teaching and guiding him until she was certain there was no human of 
the male specie who could begin to match his magnificent love-making.

Dear God, she had only to think of their nightly intimate moments to 
work herself into a sexual frenzy. If only people could rise to the 
level of so-called dumb animals ... what a different and wonderful 
world it would be, she thought. She reached over and stroked his great 
head, smiled at him and he whined back his response. Damn, for two 
cents she was tempted to pull off on a side road to some secluded spot 
and let him lick her between her legs to climax. That anticipating, 
wanting expression was gleaming innocently in his great round eyes, and 
the mere thought had pleasurably moistened the tight, hairlined slit 
between her warm, itching thighs. She shifted in the seat and felt her 
panties draw snugly up into the soft, vibrant crevice, gently splaying 
the fleshy lips to tauten provocatively against her suddenly aroused 
clitoris. Once more, she squirmed her buttocks down into the leather of 
the cushion causing delightful little sensations to tingle in her loins 
and belly. The giant dog, with ears erect, watched her and whimpered 
longingly, his brown eyes pleading, as if somehow he could, and had, 
read her thoughts. His nose twitched also, as if the odor of the 
excitement forming down between her legs had wafted over to him.

Annette laughed warmly, almost excitedly, again reaching over to stroke 
his head. "Ah ... mon cher, but I'm afraid it will have to keep, eh? 
Maybe later, sweetheart ... but for sure, tonight ..." Then, her smile 
changed to an expression of sadness. After awhile, she said: "My 
gallant Launcelot ... what's to become of us, you and me ...? We are 
all that either of us have in this rotten world ... and in all 
humaneness I can't leave you behind when I go ... nor can I take your 
life ... Mon Dieu ... I don't know ... I don't know, Cheri."

Her abrupt solemn change of mood immediately dispelled her prurient 
desires of a few moments before. She settled back in the seat and drove 
with her eyes fixed on the road as she thought. There was something 
almost sadistic in the method she had settled on to bring things to an 
end for herself, plus the idea of addicting her body to heroin, 
inasmuch as her own father filled his coffers from the illicit traffic, 
amongst other evil things; yet, at the same time, it sounded like a 
wild and crazy adventure. She'd tried it and liked it, freaked-out on 
"speed" a few times and forgotten her woes, but "smack" was going to be 
a brand new trip, and getting the stuff should be simple. Armand 
Nicolet would help her.

She smiled as she thought of sweet little Armand, son of Canada Steel's 
first family, introvert, homo and addict. He'd help her all right; they 
were buddies who occasionally cried on one another's shoulder, 
understood each other's plight, had even slept together to see if he 
could stand it heterosexually, but with the exception of a bit of 
soixante-neuf it had fallen flat for him. Still, they were friends each 
knowing and sharing the other's problems, finding mutual consolation in 
their individual ostracism from the established world. Tonight, she'd 
see Armand and the few others she called friends ... tonight at Mother 
Turtle's ... and that would be the beginning of the end ... but first, 
she was going home and spit in her father's eye. That was one more of 
the few remaining pleasures she still enjoyed on this earth.

*   *   *

Gaston Larreau, when he stood, towered a maximum of five-feet-seven-
inches, a portion of this supplied by his one-hundred-and-fifty dollar 
elevator shoes, but what he lacked in height he made up in width, both 
in belly and shoulders, for he moved the scale-hand beyond the two-
hundred-seventy pound mark. He possessed a glistening, naked pate and 
was deeply indebted appearancewise to his tailors who made him appear 
meticulous of dress. His nubbin head was round and set close between 
his shoulders, leaving him neckless, while his round-face gave him a 
pumpkinish look; his small grey, nearly colorless eyes were spaced too-
wide apart, just as his too-small ears clung tight to his head. The 
aged scar left from an early razor wound ran the length of his right 
cheek, ending at the corner of his mouth, making the flesh there puffed 
and malformed until he smiled, and then one noticed little else but the 
line of strong golden upper teeth.

At the moment, he was not smiling as he sat imperiously behind the 
massive desk in his "ballroom" sized study, facing his daughter who had 
walked in to inflict a bit of mental torture on this man whom she 
despised with a passion.

"The hell you say!" he blurted in his native tongue. "The Godamned hell 
you say girl. I won't stand for it, you hear? Not one godamned minute 
will I stand for it ...!"

The idea had come to Annette not minutes before as she walked into the 
house. It was so insane and bound to torment him that she couldn't 
imagine why she hadn't thought of it before. Right at the moment, she 
could hardly control her elation as she watched the little ogre before 
her fume and rant, and even Launcelot at her side momentarily bared his 
teeth and growled at the fat man's sudden fury.

"I can't imagine what you're going to do about it, pere," she said in 
English, knowing this, too, irked him. "I've made up my mind ... I'm 
going to marry Armand Nicolet."

"Jesus Christ! You must be out of your rattled head!" the czar 
bellowed. "You know what he is ...? Do you? That godamned little queen! 
He's one of those, for Christ's sake ... He's a ... a ... a ..."

"A homosexual, pere," Annette put in calmly. "Is that what you were 
trying to say?"

Larreau gaped at her, his cheeks bloated, his eyes bugged. "What the 
hell ... all right, yeah, that's part of it, and that ought to be 
enough for you. He's a godamned queer! On top of that, he's a ... a ... 
a ..."

"He's hooked, pere, eh?" she interrupted again. "Addicted ... and to 
heroin, right?" She lay her hand on Launcelot's massive head to keep 
the animal from growling. "But then, that should make you happy, mon 
pere, I mean, if it weren't for people like Armand, how could you get 
along? Really, I think you're very short-sighted ..."

"Godamn you, girl! Don't stand there and talk to me like that, you 
hear? I won't put up with it!" Larreau raged, the scar on his cheek a 
livid purple. Angrily, he struggled to his feet and once more, 
Launcelot unleashed a fierce growl. The little fat man stared at the 
great animal and swallowed tightly. "Damn it ... get that thing out of 
here. You know I don't like him, and he doesn't like me any better. I 
warn you, if he ever tries to bite me I'll put a bullet right through 
his skull ..."

Annette's own eyes narrowed viciously before he had hardly gotten the 
words out of his mouth. "And I'll put one through yours, damn you, if 
you ever try to lay a hand on him!" she spat through her teeth.

Once more, the ugly little man gaped at his only child, but this time 
in shocked disbelief. For a long moment, he didn't speak, then finally, 
he said: "Ma chere ... what the devil is it that's wrong between us? 
Mon Dieu! You're my daughter ... my baby ... all I have in this world 
..." He started to come around his desk but stopped at Launcelot's 
guttural warning. Again, he swallowed the lump from his throat. "Look, 
cherie ... all I want is your happiness, eh? Whatever I have will 
someday be yours ... all yours ... everything you see around you. My 
God ... why do you treat me like this ...? I mean, if you want to 
marry, then go find yourself a husband ... a man ... not some godamned 
fairy ..."

"A man, pere ...? Like Antoine, perhaps, one you might be able to use 
as a scapegoat and send to prison in your place?"

"Damnit, that's a lie and you know it ...!"

"It's the truth, and I know it ... just as I know you had Ginny Novak 
murdered by your hoodlums and drove Madeleine away in fear because you 
were trying to get her to share your bed ... but she was too good for 
the filthy likes of you, just as my mother was too good ..."

"Shut up! You hear, you little bitch! Shut up before I lose my temper 
entirely!"

Annette laughed. "Like you did those nights when I was only ten and 
eleven and you sneaked into my bedroom, and I cried when you put your 
rotten hands between my legs? You used to lose your temper with me 
then, too, pere, remember?"

"You ... you ungrateful slut, you!" Larreau half-screamed, his face 
pale, his colorless eyes near insane with rage. "I ought to beat you 
within an inch of your life ..."

"And you would, if you dared, but you don't, do you, pere?" Annette 
taunted him. "Because if you lay a hand on me you know that my 
Launcelot would tear you to pieces." Again, she laughed tormentingly as 
she gazed with a mocking sneer at the fat little man who was her 
father. And then, she watched the tears puddle in the almost fat-hidden 
sockets of his eyes, feeling nothing herself.

"Pl-Please, my baby ... there's nothing in this world I wouldn't do for 
you," he pleaded softly. "Please ... try to forgive me ... I'm your 
father ..."

Annette stared at him in utter disgust. At last, she turned away and 
started for the door.

"Annette ... Cherie ... wait ..." he called after her. "Please ... tell 
me you didn't mean these terrible things you said ..."

She paused and faced him again. "But I did, mon pere ... every word."

"Mon Dieu!" he gulped. "You couldn't ... it's impossible! How ... how 
could you marry that ... that ...?"

"Cocksucker, pere," she finished, the faint trace of a smile playing 
around her mouth. "And why not? Live and let live, I say ..."

"You don't know what you're saying!" he blurted. "You're only trying to 
hurt me! Don't you suppose I know what you're doing?"

"And does it hurt, pere?"

"You little fool! He's a dope fiend ... a drug addict! You have any 
idea what that means? Damn it, girl, do you?"

"If I haven't, I'll learn," she spat at him.

"How? By prostituting yourself to pay for his fixes ...?"

A last time, Annette laughed at him before leaving the room. She said: 
"To pay for our fixes, pere ... and keep you in the luxurious style to 
which you're accustomed."

"Annette! Come back here! You hear me? Come back here ...!"

But she didn't, and Sir Launcelot's throaty growls filled the room as 
they left.

*   *   *

The willowy girl in the tight dark slacks and sweater with the 
straight, shoulder-length raven hair enframing her face caught his 
attention immediately. She was slight of build, her breasts small but 
firm and pointed, boyish hips, even though her buttocks filled the seat 
of the slacks with round, protruding ovalled spheres and her thighs 
were full and exciting looking. She was extremely tiny waisted which 
gave the illusion of feminine curvaceousness she didn't possess. Her 
mouth was small and thin-lipped, yet not unattractive, and her cheeks a 
hollow ivory hue with almond shaped hazel eyes that scanned, fixed and 
penetrated. The ugly, fat woman behind the bar told him her name for a 
ten-dollar bill. Annette Larreau ... and Shannon lowered himself to a 
table in the shadows of a corner, wetting his lips in surprise. The 
picture he had seen of her had depicted a shapeless, unattractive, 
sickly looking female. She was not that. As a matter of fact, she 
suggested sex ... but the godamned brute of a dog stretched out on the 
floor protectingly beside her was enough to discourage any such wild 
thoughts. He liked dogs; he hoped to hell he wouldn't have to kill this 
one.

It had taken him two weeks to grow the half-inch beard he wore. 
Madeleine wasn't sure that she liked it; it irritated her face and 
inner thighs, she told him, but she liked to feel its furry softness 
with her hands. He really gave little thought to her reactions; its 
purpose was not only a matter of disguise, but a more fitting 
admittance ticket to such places as Mother Turtle's and the other 
swinging spots where he had learned that the "czar's" daughter hung 
out. In fact, he'd learned a hell of a lot in the last couple of weeks, 
thanks to Madeleine's bank balance and his own ingenuity. For instance, 
even before he was familiar with her appearance, he had managed to 
obtain enough information regarding Annette Larreau's likes and 
dislikes, personal habits and companions to know that she was a little 
rebel who hated her powerful papa and all he stood for, the odd-ball 
variety.

A good example was the scrawny, hollow-chested male with the page-boy 
hair style sitting across the table from her at the moment. He was 
named Armand Nicolet of the multi-buck steel family, a playboy by trade 
... a hype and pansy by desire and whatever the hell his magnetism was 
it certainly couldn't be physical, yet, he, Shannon, had turned up a 
rumor concerning their impending marriage.

It didn't make sense, a stunningly attractive girl of her standing 
marrying a spindly, hooked queer, but then, the longer he lived and the 
more he saw of the human race, the less he understood it; besides, it 
wasn't going to make any difference one way or the other. With what he 
had in mind that marriage was going to be postponed ... at least, for 
awhile ...

A lantern-faced individual accompanied by another of the bull-necked, 
barrel-chested type, both in dark suits and dark turtle-neck shirts, 
caught Shannon's attention as they slunk into the cellar-room through 
the grotto-like doorway, abruptly interrupting his immediate thoughts. 
Their hoodish air definitely eliminated them as belonging, and when 
their eyes fell upon, and stared fixedly at Annette Larreau and her 
dainty companion, Shannon could almost feel their reason for being 
there, as well as guess who might have sent them. He sensed blood and 
swallowed tightly.

Armand Nicolet evidently perceived it also, for he paled noticeably. He 
leaned forward, whispering to the girl across from him who sat with her 
back toward the two. She took his hand, her knuckles whitening, started 
to turn but evidently thought better of it. The thin little man 
whispered again, his fright obvious, then arose quickly and made toward 
the rear entrance. The two hoods seeing his move started after him just 
as Annette stood to block their way, while simultaneously the Great 
Dane came erect to bare its teeth at their hasty, if, belligerent 
approach.

"What the hell!" the bull-necked one snarled, stopping dead before the 
menacing, bare-fanged growl of the massive animal. Automatically, his 
hand shot inside his coat, fumbling for the weapon there. Lantern-jaw 
had dodged around a table to charge after the escaping Nicolet and 
might have caught him if Shannon hadn't stuck out his foot to trip the 
gangly one and send him sprawling forward onto his face.

From that point, there was ample commotion, with patrons shuffling and 
scampering for the sidelines as Bullneck leveled the ugly looking gun 
in his hand on the Great Dane. Annette screamed and Shannon leaped, 
throwing all of his weight onto the big man and forcing the bullet to 
go wild. They went down with Shannon on the other's back, the Bull-
necked one's chin catching on the edge of a chair with enough force to 
stun him momentarily. Quickly, Shannon got to his feet, grabbed Annette 
by the hand and started for the front entrance.

"Come on! Let's get out of here ... and tell your dog I'm a friend! I 
don't like the way he's looking at me!" he snapped, pulling her along 
behind him up the stairs, two at a time, to the street. "You have a 
car?"

"Around the corner ... but what about Armand? They'll kill him if they 
catch him ...!"

"Let's hope they don't catch him, Baby ... In the meantime, I don't 
think they like me either. Let's go!"

Shannon took the wheel and they were out of the area in minutes. He 
kept to the back streets, moving in no particular direction, except 
further away from the shabby section where the two hoods would be 
undoubtedly canvassing with blood and rage warping their brains. After 
awhile, he said: "Your father evidently doesn't like Nicolet."

He felt her eyes on him. She sat in the middle with the dog she had 
called Launcelot, on her right by the window. She said: "Do you know my 
father?"

"I know who he is and who you are," he replied, his eyes fixed ahead.

For a moment she was quiet, then: "Why did you help? You could've been 
shot."

"I don't like hoods who shoot dogs," he said, easing around a corner 
onto a well lighted street. It was Sherbrooke East and they were headed 
west.

"We both owe you a debt for helping us ... Launcelot and I," she said 
slipping her arm around the animal's neck. "Do you think Armand got 
away?"

"I'd say that depends how resourceful he is. He certainly had time 
enough."

"Well ..." she said, pausing momentarily. "I suppose it won't make much 
difference anyway, knowing my father. They'll find him sooner or later 
... poor Armand."

Shannon made a little grunting sound. He couldn't get up any pity for 
the scrawny queer. Nevertheless, he said: "I doubt if they intend to do 
more than rough him up a little. Even Gaston Larreau can't go around 
having men knocked off just because they want to marry his daughter."

Again, he felt her eyes on him; it was progressing nicely, he thought.

"How do you know that?" she asked. "I mean, about Armand and me getting 
married?"

"Rumors."

"What else do you know about me?"

"That you've been on and off 'H' for the last week ... and that young 
frilly fruit's been supplying you." He turned toward her. "Are you 
hooked?"

She hesitated. "No ... that is, I don't think so."

"How long since you've had a fix?"

"Yesterday morning ... say, who in hell are you, anyway? How do you 
know so much about me?"

"You can call me Shannon," he replied evenly. "As for the second 
question ... I've been doing a little inquiring."

"Inquiring ...? Why?" There was an edge to her tone now.

"You intrigue me." He smiled over at her. "Don't get upset. Nothing's 
going to happen to you. I've been trying to locate you for a mutual 
friend of ours who wants very much to see you."

"Mu--Mutual friend ... of ours?" Annette said, her head tilting 
questioningly to one side. "I don't understand ... Who is this friend?"

"Madeleine Poirier."

"Madeleine?" She sat ahead in the seat. "Do you know where she is? No 
one has seen her since Antoine went to prison ..."

"That's where we're going, ma'm'selle." Once more, he smiled in her 
direction, his most fetching, disarming expression. "Just relax. It's 
going to take us awhile to get there. All right with you?"

"Yes ... yes, of course," she replied anxiously.

"Madeleine and I were always close. My God, I can't think of anyone I'd 
rather see ... I've been so afraid that something terrible might have 
happened to her ... like it did to Ginny Novak ..."



Chapter 7


Madeleine was frightened; she couldn't help it. By day, the island was 
beautiful, but at night it was so terribly dark and lonesome with 
Shannon gone, and the foreign, eerie sounds caused little chills to run 
along her spine. Even in the luxury of the big house with every light 
in the place burning she was still on edge, and had been since he'd 
taken the launch to the mainland just before sunset. Nervously, she 
glanced at her watch. Eleven thirty; he'd told her to expect him 
shortly after midnight if everything went well according to plan. God 
...! Supposing it hadn't? What would she do?

Mother of Jesus! She had to get those thoughts out of her mind 
immediately! It would come off just as he'd planned; it had to ... it 
just had to! All of her novenas she had said in church the past week 
had been offered up for their success. The Blessed Mother would never 
desert her; she felt confident of that. Lord, she should have more 
faith. What she needed was a little drink to steady her nerves.

She arose from the comfortable, overstuffed chair and went to the small 
wicker bar, finding one of the bottles of bourbon Shannon had brought. 
There was ice in the small refrigerator beneath and several different 
mixes. She set about blending, half listening to the music from the 
radio and thinking that one day she and Shannon would have a lovely 
home like this one. And to imagine, it was only a summer place. Some 
rich senator from the states owned it and Shannon had rented it for the 
week for two-hundred-and-fifty dollars, including the launch ... She 
paused in her actions as she thought of that. Two-hundred-fifty dollars 
of her hard earned money ... then, she laughed to herself ... a mere 
drop in the bucket compared to what they were going to have soon ... 
just the three of them. Lord, how happy they were going to be. She 
could almost cry just thinking of having her own little Igat with her 
for ever and ever ... really, it was all for her ... her sweet little 
baby. There was no sacrifice too great for her to make ... Well, she'd 
burned her bridges now by simply disappearing this way, leaving her 
place at the Salle de Venus-Apollon, without any word to Rafael Girarde 
... placing her all into the hands of this handsome American.

Still, she didn't understand yet why they had come all the way to 
Kingston before looking for a place, but her new lover had insisted it 
was necessary and she hadn't argued. Nor had she been displeased when 
she learned that Hyde Island was thirteen miles out in Lake Ontario, 
then actually saw the picturesque, castle-like structure that was built 
of field-stone and imported marbles. The idea of being isolated on such 
a beautiful little paradise with the man she loved had set her right 
off. Only the mail-boat that passed once a day would be their single 
connection with civilization, and then only if they signaled. Dear God, 
they would make love until they were feeble; for what else was there to 
do but a bit of fishing and swimming? And so they had for two solid 
days and nights, not even dressing except for the negligee that she 
presently wore. God, it had been so wonderful ... and she loved him so 
much. There had never been anyone like her Shannon ... absolutely no 
one.

The mere thought of his lean virile body next to her own was sufficient 
to arouse tiny, exciting tingles in her loins and belly. She picked up 
her drink from the bar, the movement causing the gauzy material of her 
negligee to graze against the suddenly distended nipples of her full 
breasts tauntingly. She shivered from the erotic effect and walked back 
to her chair, lifting her feet onto the ottoman and stretching out. The 
gossamery material fell away from her long shapely calves and thighs 
with a whisper and she looked down at herself narcissistically, the 
dark velvety down sprinkled over the V of her mound enticing her. She 
lifted the glass to her moist lips and consumed half of it, while the 
soft, romantic listening music from the radio created an enrapturing 
mood.

God ... if you were here right at this moment! Shannon ... Shannon ... 
I'd lick you to death! Mon cher ... how I love you!

Once more, she drank from the glass, then set it on the table beside 
her, closing her eyes as her hands found her own waist and moved upward 
over the slight delineation of her ribs to her heavy, now-throbbing 
breasts, cupping and lifting them beneath the flimsiness of her gown 
until the pointed, hardened nipples stood out like frozen red berries. 
Her long fingers sought the tiny fleshy marbles then and began to roll 
and tweak them hedonistically, while her mind filled with thoughts of 
her Shannon and his magnificently beautiful rod of almost always 
hardened passion. Suddenly, she could taste its pungent tang and feel 
its soft rubbery head against her tongue in her mouth, its heavy hot 
shaft in one hand while the other cradled and squeezed his balls 
reverently. Subconsciously, she lowered one hand down over the little 
round bowl of her belly and through the patch of silken hair to the now 
moist slit in her crotch, spreading her thighs slightly and gently 
sliding her long-nailed forefinger between the fleshy lips of her pussy 
into its pink wetness to tenderly slip down through the length of her 
slit to the already quivering opening of her vagina. Her breath caught 
in her throat at the erotic sensations her own gentle manipulation set 
off inside her.

God, I'm hot, she thought. If only you were here, my lover!

Her cunt was as moist and lubricated as if he had just shot his hot 
sperm up into her, and her desire was as piqued as if he had been 
sitting there in front of her licking and taunting her open loins with 
his fantastic tongue as he had last night. Her breathing quickened and 
she spread her thighs further, drawing up her knees slightly as she 
slipped her finger up inside her vagina to the palm of her hand, then 
withdrew it and repeated the act several times before letting her damp 
forefinger wander down the soft, hairless crevice to the tiny little 
puckered hole of her anus. This time, she drew her legs up higher and 
lifted her round white buttocks while slowly, excitingly, she inserted 
her own finger smoothly up into the warm rubbing depths of her rectum.

It was too much! In her mind, Shannon's wonderful prick was jerking and 
squirting its hot semen into her throat ... she could actually taste it 
to the point of swallowing voraciously! And then, all of a sudden, her 
other hand dropped to her crotch, its excited fingers finding her erect 
clitoris between the moist swollen cunt-lips, and as she began to 
pummel her long finger into her anal passage, she simultaneously 
tweaked, twisted and pulled at her clitoris with the other hand ... 
while Shannon mentally fucked into her face, shooting his load down her 
throat time and time and time again.

It was an ecstasy all of its own! It wasn't the first time she had done 
it, nor would it be the last, but never was it any better. She slid 
down into the chair, her knees pulled back to press against the pebble-
like nipples of her throbbing breasts as suddenly she inserted a second 
finger into her tiny rectum, twisting and routing them in sado-
masochistic delight while the other hand pummeled with increasing vigor 
at the moist, pink furrow of her ravenous cunt.

It was then that she heard the deep whirring sound of what had to be 
the launch ... it could be nothing else out here! A certain frightening 
tightness gripped her. She couldn't stop now! She had to cum ... had 
to! It was all a moment of self gratification, she realized, but it 
couldn't be denied ... not now ... not at this stage. It wasn't like 
actual fucking or sucking or making love in any way ... but it was 
necessary ... Oh Christ, she couldn't give the reasons ... didn't 
understand them ... only that she had to cum! That was all that 
mattered! All ...!

Wildly, she punished her genitals, inserting a third finger into her 
tightly resisting rectum to the very palm of her hand, while her 
fingers raped the soft pink flesh of her cunt with the brutalness of 
some fiend out of the night. The sensation was overwhelming ... beyond 
belief! Her loins danced, jerked and quivered with the ecstatic bliss 
of a thousand generations into the past, as in the back of her brain 
the sound of the ever-approaching launch grew louder and louder.

Mentally, she sucked Shannon's cock with clasped lips and savage, 
slashing tongue and hypothetically he emptied his hot sperm into her 
mouth and throat and she swallowed ravenously ... while, at the same 
time, her hands tore and pounded into her cunt and asshole with 
unmerciful delight.

It came onto her like that! Just as the launch sputtered and went dead, 
and she realized he was tying it up at the dock. She spasmed once ... 
twice ... a third time, and came with such violent force that she was 
certain she'd faint. Shannon squirted his load down her throat and the 
bubble burst at her crotch! Wild sensations tore through her soft, 
white body and her thighs quivered and jerked with the unbelievable 
release that spread through her.

Somehow, she heard them coming up the gravel path, forced herself erect 
and straightened her negligee. Her mouth hung open loosely and she 
tried to close it, at the same time endeavoring to force logical 
thoughts into place in her mind. She got to her feet, her knees hardly 
able to support her, then started for the door.

When she got there, the aftermath of her climax still excitingly 
prevalent in her loins and belly, she saw them nearing the house.

"I-I heard you coming," she said. "Is Annette with you?"

"I'm here," Annette replied. "Is that you, Madeleine?"

"Yes ... it's me," she heard herself say hesitantly.

"Oh God ...!" Annette said, and began to run toward the house, Sir 
Launcelot galloping silently along beside her.

*   *   *

Madeleine was entirely unprepared for Annette's fervent greeting; she 
had never felt that they were that close. The willowy girl threw 
herself into her arms and hugged her tightly, clutching Madeleine's 
near-naked, voluptuous body against her own while she wept on the older 
girl's shoulder. With the effects of the orgasm she had just subjected 
herself to still racking her soft sensuous flesh, the proximity of 
Annette's smooth firm body molded against her own seemed to rekindle 
the tiny prurient sparks that had raced through her loins only moments 
before. Madeleine couldn't contain the exciting little tremor that 
rippled over her. She looked beyond the clinging girl into Shannon's 
half-smiling face, sensing the flush to her own cheeks and hoping he 
wouldn't notice it.

"Ma chere, Madeleine ... it's been so long," Annette sobbed. "Oh, how 
I've wondered what had become of you. I've worried so ... even feared 
that maybe ... maybe the same had happened to you as to Ginny Novak."

Madeleine cradled her with conscious affection against her swollen, 
firm breasts while the other continued to weep, and Shannon watched, 
not displeased. It seemed that things were running smoother than he 
anticipated they might ... but of course, he hadn't unleashed the bomb 
yet. He hadn't much doubt but what that was going to change the 
complexion of things a bit, but presently, the matter of Launcelot 
bothered him. As mild and contented as the beast appeared at the moment 
with his mistress' emotional reaction to an old friend, Shannon felt 
safe in assuming that the animal could become a ferocious brute at her 
mere command, and he didn't intend to have to defend himself against 
such odds, especially when a little ingenuity could better serve the 
purpose.

"There ... there," Madeleine was saying soothingly, holding the slender 
girl tight to her and stroking her long raven hair. "It's all right, ma 
chere ... I'm happy to see you, too ..."

"The dog looks hungry," Shannon said. "I'll give him something to eat, 
eh? Come on, Launcelot. I've got some meat in the kitchen. Come on, 
boy! Come on!"

The great dog stood fast, eyeing Shannon closely but not moving from 
his mistress' side. Shannon continued to coax, but it was useless. 
Then, the girl separated and Madeleine drew her wispy negligee tight 
over her breasts uneasily as Annette wiped at her eyes and noticed 
seemingly for the first time the minimum covering the other wore. The 
sight both surprised and embarrassed her, but for a long moment her 
deep hazel-eyes dwelled there before she could tear them away. Finally, 
she said: "Were ... were you talking to me, Shannon?"

"I was going to feed the dog something, but he's stubborn ... doesn't 
want to go with me."

Annette managed a little smile. "Launcelot's very faithful. He won't 
obey anyone but me." She bent down and kissed the big dog's massive 
head. "There, baby, go with Shannon. He's going to feed you. Go!"

Madeleine heard him whimper and watched him follow Shannon toward the 
kitchen. She was well aware of the plan to lock the brute in a back 
room and feed him doctored meat that would put him temporarily to 
sleep. Her Shannon had thought of everything ...

"He is your lover, this Shannon?" Annette addressed her in French.

"Oui. Soon, we'll be married," Madeleine replied, then crossed the room 
toward the bar. She swallowed tightly. She had never realized that 
Antoine's wife possessed such an enticing figure ... nor had she ever 
felt such erotic stimulation at the sight of another woman's near naked 
flesh before. Again, she swallowed. She said: "He ... your Shannon ... 
he came to our rescue tonight. Some of mon pere's ruffians were after a 
young man I was with ... He saved all of us, this Shannon ... at least, 
I hope Armand is all right ..."

Madeleine wasn't listening. She poured bourbon into a glass nervously 
and added ice and water without asking. Her mind was in a state of 
thorough confusion. God, how she would like to throw herself into 
Shannon's arms right at that moment, and have him carry her upstairs to 
their bed ... forget all of this horrible ordeal before them ... just 
make love. She needed him so badly; her whole body was alive once again 
with the vibrant tingling Annette's physical closeness had re-
instigated inside her. Mon Dieu, it was insane that another woman's 
body could so set her off ...

"There ... he's eating," said Shannon joining them, his firm jaw fixed 
tightly. "Then, I expect he'll sleep for awhile ... at least I hope the 
hell he will." He walked to the center of the room and stood there 
looking down at Annette, then over to Madeleine behind the bar. "You 
can fix me one of those, too, Baby." His eyes swung back to Annette, 
and he said: "Has she told you anything?"

Annette Larreau stared at him. She wasn't certain whether a smile was 
in order or not, so in it's place she offered a head-tilted half-smile. 
She looked to Madeleine, then back to this handsome man who had played 
Galahad earlier. "I-I'm afraid I don't understand ...? Was she supposed 
to tell me something, M'sieu' Shannon?"

Shannon returned her stare with a level one of his own. "You're being 
kidnapped, Ma'm'selle. Be nice, cooperate, do as you're told and don't 
try anything. That way, no harm'll come to you."

Annette continued to gaze at him. She was trying to fathom the joke ... 
he wasn't smiling. She glanced at Madeleine, but the blonde-haired girl 
wouldn't look at her. Again, her attention snapped back to Shannon. She 
managed: "I ... I don't understand ...?"

"You will ... in awhile," he said, matter-of-factly. "It's not a joke 
or trick ... I'm holding you for ransom, Baby, and I expect your 
cooperation ... otherwise, we might have difficulties."

"R-Ransom? You mean ... you mean that I ... I'm being kidnapped ... 
right now ...?"

"Right now," said Shannon, walking to the bar to pick up both of their 
drinks. He returned and handed it to her, a bit surprised when she 
accepted it as if she were attending some sort of cocktail party. "Like 
I said, Baby, it's not a joke ... but the beginning of a hard and fast 
deal with your father." He lifted the glass to his lips and drank, then 
swallowed. "I expect to get a half-million dollars for your trim little 
body ... alive I hope papa feels it's worth it."

Annette could only ogle him with riveted eye. It had to be some sort of 
farce; it couldn't be a reality! Why ... why ... he had even helped her 
... and ... and tripped the man chasing Armand ...! It was crazy ... 
but ... but the expression on his face ... and the way that Madeleine 
was shunning her ... They meant it! They honest-to-God meant it! She 
blurted: "What did you do to Launcelot?"

Shannon caught her wrist as she started to gain her feet. He handled 
her gently. "He's all right," he said. "He'll sleep for awhile, but 
he's perfectly all right."

Damn him! If he'd hurt Launcelot ...! Automatically, her thin lips drew 
back away from her small white teeth. "I'll kill you if you've hurt 
him, Shannon! I swear, I'll kill you ..."

"The dog's all right, I said," Shannon snapped, raising his glass once 
more. "Enough of that crap. Let's get a couple of things straight, eh, 
little girl? You're not going to be able to do anything unless your old 
man comes through. This isn't a game we're playing ... it's for keeps. 
You try anything ... and I'll have to hurt you ... I don't want to do 
that. Your papa refuses to pay ... well, he just hadn't better ..."

"Or, you'll send me home in a basket, Shannon?" she said, looking right 
up into his face. Shannon said nothing and she turned to Madeleine who 
had not moved from behind the bar. "And you, Madeleine ...? Nothing to 
add? Like ... what a fool I made of myself at seeing you after all this 
time ...?"

Madeleine gulped from her own glass. Her negligee had fallen open 
almost to her waist and her magnificent breasts stood out, exposed 
before them in her next-to-nakedness. She kept her eyes from the girl 
and poured the drink into her. After a moment, she said in a forced, 
clear, crisp voice: "Do as he says and you won't be harmed, Annette ... 
I promise you ..."

"You promise me?" Annette snapped. Her small, thin mouth twisted in a 
distorted smile. "Now that's funny ... really funny."

"Maybe you've a warped sense of humor." Shannon said irritably.

"Perhaps I have," replied Annette, her humorless smirk advancing into a 
hollow little laugh. "But I was imagining the look on my father's face 
when he's informed of this. I don't believe he's going to like it very 
much, M'sieu' Shannon ... not very much at all ... but then, I suppose 
you've both taken that into consideration."

"Don't needle me, Baby," Shannon hissed. "I don't scare easy ... and 
you better hope that your daddy's emotions don't cause him to try the 
wrong thing, eh?"

Annette looked up at him unwaveringly. "Do you know very much about my 
father, M'sieu'?" she asked, a trace of her smile still evident. "I'm 
certain that she does," the girl added with an indicative nod of her 
head toward Madeleine. "And that's what surprises me, I guess."

"I know enough about him to gamble that he'll pay. You're the apple of 
his eye, Baby ... all he had left in the world," said Shannon, 
finishing his drink. "He may be filth, but I'm betting he still had 
that much decency."

Annette studied him for a long moment, until finally her head dropped 
and her slender body made a little convulsive shudder. Madeleine went 
to her then, lowering herself onto the arm of her chair and running her 
hand over the girl's long dark hair soothingly. Annette leaned against 
her, turning her face toward, and burying it between, Madeleine's firm 
full breasts. She wept quietly.

"All right," Shannon said. "I guess we understand one another. You'll 
be able to use the house, but you won't go outside of it. Don't try 
anything and I won't have to lock you up. You're thirteen miles from 
another living soul except us, and unless you're a hell of a swimmer I 
wouldn't chance that avenue. Just relax and make the best of it; we'll 
treat you properly.

"Madeleine, you two are going to be inseparable for the next few days," 
he said. "I want you with her every minute. You'll walk, sleep and eat 
together, understand?"

"Oui ... but what about you? Where will you sleep?" Madeleine 
questioned immediately.

Shannon grinned. "Don't worry, angel ... I'll be close by ... once I 
get the wheels in operation. Now, take her upstairs for the night. I've 
got some business to attend to."

Madeleine responded without further question and Shannon watched them 
climb the wide staircase, the slender girl being supported by the 
other's arm around her waist. Annette was still sobbing and that 
pleased him. She wouldn't try anything; he was certain ... but at the 
moment he was more taken with the voluptuous outline of Madeleine's 
delectable body through the gauzy negligee as she ascended the stairs. 
The provocative roll of her hips and buttocks, the sleek movement of 
her shapely legs and slender waist caused him to swallow tightly and 
his member stirred excitedly in his pants. Christ, how he'd like some 
of that right now ... but it was going to have to keep until after he 
went to the mainland and made his phone call to Larreau ... then ... He 
grinned to himself. Some wild ideas were forming in his mind.



Chapter 8


Annette Larreau was more enraged than fear-stricken; her pride had been 
severely damaged. She felt like a complete idiot, having fallen right 
into their plot as innocently as a lamb being led to slaughter. She 
couldn't imagine how she might have responded differently; 
nevertheless, she felt the perfect fool, and it wasn't in her nature to 
accept that without some sort of retaliation. Thus, although her tears 
were for the most part tears of anger, the larger portion were 
pretended, in an effort to gain additional time to think.

She felt that Madeleine wasn't in complete accord with her lover, at 
least, if she was, her tender, emotional nature was showing through. 
She had led Annette to the bed, helped her onto it and lay down beside 
her, cuddling the younger girl protectively to her and continuing to 
stroke her long dark hair. Annette couldn't help the exciting little 
fermentations she sensed at the other's naked, full and soft, perfumed 
breasts against her cheek, and it was then that the first thoughts of a 
wild plan crossed her mind.

Launcelot was still awake; she could hear him bark occasionally. She 
wasn't surprised. The animal had always been finicky about his food and 
would detect and refuse the slightest of tainted or tampered-with 
meats. If only she could get down stairs and free him ... that would 
change the complexion of things in a hurry ... yet, how was she going 
to get away from Madeleine to do it? She doubted that she could 
overpower the older, larger girl ... but ... there might be another way 
... Dear God ... she had never done anything like that in her life ... 
not with another woman ... still, as wicked as it seemed, she was not 
repulsed by the idea ... in fact, there was a certain lascivious 
stimulation that rippled through her at the mere thought, and suddenly, 
as if of their own volition, she felt her free arm creep around 
Madeleine's slender waist outside the sheer negligee, her own long, 
slender fingers trailing lightly over the silky material to feel the 
warmth of the soft flesh beneath immediately and vibrantly respond to 
her touch, while with her other arm and hand in under her, she eased 
those fingers forward to graze and brush with taunting delicateness the 
smooth resilient flesh of the other's heavy smooth rounded breasts.

Madeleine tensed and made an audible little gasping sound at the 
tantalizing contact of her still-swollen breasts with the girl's long 
slender fingers. Her own reaction embarrassed her: that another girl 
could stimulate her this way was absurd. It was simply the aftermath of 
the forbidden pleasure she had enjoyed while she was waiting for them 
to arrive ... besides, Annette had meant nothing ... the poor girl was 
simply overwrought at her sudden situation was all.

"Cherie, listen to me," Madeleine whispered while simultaneously she 
ran her hand over the girl's long silken hair. "It'll be all right. You 
mustn't let yourself get upset like this. Think of it this way: how 
many people has your father inflicted his horrors upon? Believe me ma 
chere, nothing is going to happen to you. I promise ... I won't let 
anyone hurt you ..."

Slowly, Annette raised her face so that her damp eyes looked upward 
into Madeleine's dark ones. She pressed her willowy body tighter 
against the near-naked, soft contours of the larger girl, molding 
herself to them while her hand clasped with open palm at her back and 
the other opened slowly to cup with gentle fingers Madeleine's firm 
erect breast.

Once more, Madeleine gasped, only this time she felt herself 
automatically maneuvering Annette's long, supple body tightly to her 
while she pressed her own curvaceous form against it. She bent her head 
downward as Annette raised hers, both of them straining until their 
lips met, gently at first, each feeling the full sharp delineated 
imprint of the other, and then more furiously.

Both were rigid at first, confused, finally relaxing under the 
pressure, their tongues meeting at the point of contact, their bodies 
following it up, beginning to undulate and rub briskly against one 
another, their loins endeavoring to meet as were their lips.

"Oh God, Madeleine," Annette breathed in French, all of her brief, 
fore-laid plans momentarily forgotten. "I ... I don't know what's come 
over me ... you're ... you're lovely ..."

"Don't ... don't speak," said Madeleine, forcing her tiny pink tongue 
into the offered small, receptive mouth, while at the same time her 
hands began to caress the other's smaller breasts outside her clothing, 
and traverse down her ribs to the swell of her hips there to gently cup 
and massage Annette's firm, warm-fleshed buttocks.

Annette felt completely bewildered, both aggressive and passive; she 
hadn't expected it to go this way at all. An odd feeling was tormenting 
her stomach, and she suspected that Madeleine might be experiencing the 
same. The intimate touch of another woman had both excited and revolted 
her, the combined effect of the two powerful emotions leaving her 
nearly helpless to act. Her initial plan was floating about in her 
brain, hardly making heads or tails at the moment. She doubted that 
Madeleine was a lesbian ... in fact, felt certain she was not, anymore 
than she, herself, had ever felt such desires ... yet, there was no 
questions of what was happening between them ...

"Let's take off your clothes," Madeleine said. "My God, hurry, take 
them off ... let me ... let me!"

Annette felt completely bewildered. She wanted whatever was to come, 
just as she had wanted her first "fix" of heroin. She lay back and let 
Madeleine undress her with trembling hands. In seconds, she was naked 
and Madeleine had removed her negligee. She felt her slim, firm, 
willowy body quiver with anticipation and closed her eyes as movements 
took place on the bed that jostled her lightly. Then Madeleine's hand 
reached out to touch and caress her small, firm breast and Annette 
experienced another wild little sensation. She moaned behind her closed 
eyes, feeling the long, gentle, slim fingers catching at her nipple, 
rolling and squeezing it in a tender understanding way that only a 
woman could know. She sensed her whole being quiver at the lewd 
forbiddenness of their performance. She'd given herself to perverted 
gratification before with Launcelot, Armand and others, but nothing in 
her makeup had ever accepted Saphism, yet at that moment her whole body 
was alive with a growing lust, and she couldn't, had she wanted to, 
resist the voluptuous girl's advances.

The alien fingers crept over her like spiders as they gently rolled her 
onto her back, her head against the pillow. She nervously moistened her 
lips with the tip of her tongue as she felt Madeleine's soft, lipstick-
tasting mouth engulf the nipple of her left breast, all of the brownish 
areola and the hard berry-like nipple with a swiftly flickering tongue 
that sent urgent, taunting messages radiating outward along nerves of 
her brain ... to sweet conditioned responses.

Slowly, Madeleine slithered up her sleek, vibrant body until their 
faces were level with each other, and her thigh crept along Annette's 
entwining around it, her soft curling fleece of pubic hair brushing 
warmly against that of her partner. Again, her lips found Annette's 
with an agile, pliant, soft, sweet, knowing possession, and her tongue 
fluttered into her mouth.

Even though there was still shame and fleeting moments of revulsion 
inside her at the mere thought of their licentious doings, the young 
Annette couldn't help responding. She sucked at the invading tongue as 
Madeleine's hand trailed over her passion-filled body with fascinating 
touches, running over her breasts, her sides and back, their bodies 
finally locking together as the caressing hand reached her buttocks and 
pulled them apart to stroke excitingly at her tiny puckered anus with 
delicate, knowing fingers.

At last, Madeleine raised above her, taking Annette's left breast in 
her hand, her fingers teasing the palpitating, distended nipple. She 
let her eye rove over the younger girl's slender, supple nakedness in 
confused delight. Finally, her voice trembling as she said: "I--I have 
never done this before, ma chere ... Mon Dieu ... do you believe me? 
The ... the very touch of your warm, smooth skin is driving me wild ... 
I ... I don't know what's come over me ... but I want to bring you 
happiness ... I must ... do ... do you understand that?"

"O--Oui, cherie," Annette hissed, "I--I do understand ... I want you to 
... I want you to! And then ... I'll make you happy ...!"

"Oh ... Oh God ..." Madeleine moaned breathlessly. "Oui ... we will 
make each other happy, cherie. I ... I'm going to make you cum as no 
man ever could ...! I know ... I know where a woman likes to be touched 
...!"

"Ohhhh, Oui ... s'il vous plait, ma chere, ... Hurry! Hurry!" Annette 
whimpered up into Madeleine's panting face, watching and waiting 
tensely as the blonde girl began to slide away ... down her trembling, 
passion-incited body.

Slowly, she raised her head to watch in half antipathetic captivation 
as Madeleine suddenly nestled her face into the hollow of her slightly 
spread thighs. Immediately, she was nearly overcome with wild, erotic 
sensations that danced and rippled through her loins and belly as she 
felt soft kisses along the hot flesh of her inner-thighs, felt the warm 
puffs of breath and then ... the magic, wet contact of Madeleine's 
tongue licking the soft, fleece-lined cleft as if experimentally ... 
simply licking in long grazing strokes from the bottom to the top, not 
entering, but causing an involuntary, slight lifting of Annette's loins 
with each tantalizing up-lick of tongue on her sensitive labia.

Annette felt her clitoris quivering into hardness and knew that it was 
peeking out from its hooded little canopy, enjoying the first stab of 
ecstatic bliss as the tiny pink tongue grazed it. She expelled her 
breath with a hissing sound, rolling her head back and forth on the 
pillow, while Madeleine, growing braver, eased her tongue inside the 
rapidly moistening split to draw it upward from the very vaginal mouth 
... upward toward the tingling bud of her clitoris.

Annette's throat began to work insanely. She held her breath, then 
exhaled sharply at the delicious contact ... and suddenly, there came 
new delights.

Madeleine, whose own soft, white loins were alive with little tongues 
of ever-increasing, carnal flame at the unexplainable and 
uncontrollable desires racing through her, hungrily pressed her lips 
closer, separating the soft, fleshy, hair-sprinkled flanges of 
Annette's tight vaginal slit, reaching up simultaneously with both 
hands to caress the small and firm erect breasts, while her mouth 
became ravenous, open and hot, nothing but tongue invading the 
seething, wet cunt before it, nothing but tongue lashing at the erect 
clitoris, tongue everywhere in the willowy girl's throbbing pussy, 
slippery in the lubricating juices mixed with her own saliva ... 
lizard-like in the rapidly dilating vagina, and always returning to the 
sensitive, tingling clitoris.

Annette moaned passionately while ripples of lust-incited enchantment 
convulsed her smooth, sensuous flesh. She began to pant explosively and 
drew back her legs, thrusting her crotch upward lewdly to bring the 
magic tongue tighter into the quivering center of her body.

Madeleine was gasping, sucking air in short surges, never breaking the 
fervent, swirling contact of her eager mouth, tongue and lips. Even her 
nose was buried, immersed in the moist, pink, velvety flesh of 
Annette's now steaming cunt.

"Ooohhhh ... Oooohhh ... cherie! It's too much ... I can't stand it!" 
Annette wailed. "Oooohhhhhh ...!" Her voice died away in a strangled 
mixture of sob and sigh and then broke out once more in a thin, high 
pitched whine as her passion began to overflow all bounds she had ever 
known and swept through her loins with the raging fury of a prairie 
fire. She twisted in the grip of her sweet agony, jerked and writhed, 
but didn't break with the open, sucking mouth glued to her cunt, while 
the flickering, enrapturing tongue played like summer lightning over 
her clitoris, sending the sharp forks of jagged electricity through her 
body to her confused, if, elated brain.

Frantically, she endured the pleasure, gasping, groaning, clutching at 
Madeleine's long, blonde tresses with clawing fingers ... at last, 
shuddering violently, then relaxing ... with spaced convulsing jerks as 
Madeleine continued to lick and suck, refusing to end it.

Madeleine's own desire had reached such a point that she doubted if she 
could bear it much longer. Her soft round belly and inflamed loins were 
quivering hotly in their craving need for fulfillment. She could feel 
the moisture seeping readily in little rivulets from her own excited, 
swollen cunt-lips, yet, she did not want to give up the ecstatic joy 
that Annette's luscious, tight, moist pussy was giving her, and though 
she eased away from the other's clitoris, she plunged her tongue into 
the vagina, tasting the slightly acid-like secretion, licking 
passionately the now-flushed and swollen cunt-lips.

"Mon Dieu!" Annette exclaimed, drawing shuddering breaths. She was no 
longer certain if she had cum or was cumming, the breath-taking 
sensations spiraling constantly through her pleasure-racked body having 
arrived at a point of continuous flow, without interruption, until she 
was almost completely enervated. She couldn't push Madeleine's head 
away, nor could she close her thighs. Dear God, she was going to lose 
her mind! She sobbed aloud and Madeleine returned to her wild tonguing 
of the hard little bud of her clitoris, making her convulse as her 
stomach muscles went rigid and her hands locked around the blonde head 
... wanting, yet not wanting, her to stop. Once more, she spasmed 
inside, her orgasm as gentle as a runaway freight car, her heart 
slamming wildly in her chest, her mind awash in the momentary bliss as 
little animal-like sounds gurgled up from deep in her throat, while her 
eyes glazed and her mouth hung limply open.

Still, Madeleine kept on, and it was at that moment the heavy running 
sounds of thundering feet came to Annette ... familiar noises she would 
have quickly identified had she control of her wits.

Sir Launcelot announced his entrance with a loud bark and in a flash he 
leaped onto the bed with bared fangs, standing over Madeleine's prone 
body between Annette's wide-spread thighs. Madeleine screamed, trying 
to roll away, but the great animal's fierce growl and gleaming teeth 
paralyzed her.

"No! No!" Annette managed, raising to her elbows. "No, lover!" She 
ordered the beast. "Friend! It's all right, lover ... She's a friend 
... you hear? Friend!"

Slowly, the massive dog seemed to comprehend, covering his teeth, his 
round, devoted eyes darting from his mistress back to the warm, white 
body of the blonde girl lying in still frozen horror beneath him. His 
ears seemed to snap erect and his long nose lifted as if his nostrils 
had suddenly sensed a pleasing and arousing smell. Abruptly, he 
whimpered and gazed longingly at his mistress.

Annette understood. She couldn't contain her little smile.

"Dear God! Get him off me!" Madeleine gasped in fright. "I don't dare 
move ... Please, cherie ..."

"Don't worry, he won't hurt you," said Annette. "I've told him you're a 
friend ... He'll do whatever I tell him ... but how did he get free? I 
thought Shannon locked him in a room?"

"S--So did I," stammered Madeleine, lying unmoving on her belly and 
looking pleadingly with raised eyes upward between Annette's firm, 
pointed little breasts at her smiling face. "He must have put him in 
the room with the broken knob ... if he jumped up against the door, it 
would come open ..."

"Well, well," Annette said, continuing to smile. "So, this changes the 
whole picture, doesn't it, Cherie? Now, I have my baby with me to give 
me protection, eh ...?"

"P-Please, Annette ... after what I just did for you ... would you do 
anything to hurt me?" Madeleine pleaded, her eyes wide with both fear 
and mental hurt. "I thought that we ... that you ..."

She didn't finish and Annette said: "That I'd bring you pleasure as you 
did me? Wasn't that what we said, Cherie?"

"Oui ... but I don't care now ... I'm too upset," said Madeleine, 
jerking beneath the cold wet nose of the great animal above her who had 
suddenly began to sniff at the smooth white crevice of her buttocks and 
downward toward her loins between her slightly spread thighs. She 
cringed at the damp, grazing touch, endeavoring to draw her legs 
together, but thinking better of the move as Launcelot let off a wicked 
growl.

"Mon Dieu, cherie! Please call him off me ...!"

"Ahhh ... but no, Cherie," Annette replied, an evil, if, delightful 
little twist contorting her attractive, thin-lipped mouth. "We promised 
each other pleasure ... now it's your turn, as well as my lover's, eh?"

Madeleine continued to gape at the obscenely sprawled girl beneath her 
who seemed to be suddenly taking almost sadistic pleasure in her fear-
striken state. Whatever the girl meant, she had no idea, for certainly 
any desire she'd felt before this beast had burst into the room to 
stand astraddle of her had long since dissipated ...

My God! The brute was licking her ... licking between her legs at her 
naked, defenseless genitals! Mother of God! She blurted: "Stop him, 
Annette! Can't you see what he's doing?"

"Of course, I can see, ma cherie," Annette laughed excitedly. "Don't 
you understand yet? My little pet wants some loving, cherie, eh? And I 
can assure you, he's the finest lover you've ever had ... believe me, I 
know."

Madeleine continued to stare in disbelief. Was she losing her mind 
entirely? Did ... did Annette intend that she should avail herself to 
this animal ... like ... like some rutting canine bitch ...?

"You see, ma cherie, he's picked up the scent of your excited little 
pussy, and I doubt if anything could stop him now," Annette advised, 
her aroused little smile never leaving her. "In fact, should you try 
... I wouldn't be responsible for what he might do to you. No, cherie, 
there's no way out of it ... so I'd advise you to get up on your knees 
with your lovely little round ass high in the air ... and the sooner 
the better."

"Mon Dieu, Annette! You can't mean it ..."

"Do as I say, damn you!" Annette snapped, her smile fading quickly. "Up 
onto your knees!"

And Madeleine did, her mind abruptly whirling in a daze as she heard 
the giant animal expound an almost lusty, savage growl behind her.

*   *   *

Earlier, Shannon had chosen a small lakeside village from which to make 
his first call, and studied his directions on the navigation map he had 
acquired, so that he would have no difficulty in piloting the launch at 
night. The distance was five miles greater than their regular mainland 
dock, but he didn't mind that. The near-cold breeze whipped up from the 
speed of the launch was invigorating, especially after the aroused hard 
prick he had left the island with. He needed something of this nature 
to cool his throbbing loins down. Two exciting bitches under one roof 
was a little more than he could handle yet, after five years of nothing 
but hand action.

Christ, he couldn't help the desire this Larreau broad raised inside 
him. Even though he hadn't intended that anything like that should 
happen, there was something about her trim figure ... that tight ass 
and those firm little tits that set him off. Damn, how he'd like to get 
into her. He'd bet his last buck that she had the snuggest little cunt 
he would ever come across, and he'd wager she'd let him at it if he 
tried under different circumstances. So ... maybe he'd just have to 
take it by force ... Of course, Madeleine wasn't going to like that, 
but he guessed he could handle her if that need be. There was hardly 
any room left in his life for gentleness; a man took what he wanted 
when he wanted it, or forever went without, otherwise, he was a fool. 
And who knew better than did he?

In actuality, Shannon figured he had committed one crime in his 
existence, one grave offense against the written law, and for that he 
had paid with five years of his life. He'd balanced the columns. In his 
mind, he was clean with society; and now, with this episode he was 
cleverly manipulating, he would still be clean and balanced. It was no 
violation to extort money from a pig like Larreau who had come by it 
evilly himself. He thought of it as kind of a Robinhood type of 
retaliation, with no stigma attached, and by the time he reached the 
town dock of Inlet, he had almost convinced himself that he was about 
to do society a favor.

He pulled the jacket collar higher around his neck and walked along the 
street considering the cool temperature of the lake area in comparison 
to the heat of Montreal. The little town, a summer-resort village, was 
deserted at this hour. He walked until he came to a public phone booth, 
aware that the call could be traced, but that it meant nothing. The 
next one he would make from Summerton, seven miles away, and right now 
this hamlet was completely asleep. He wasn't worried about being seen. 
He stepped into the booth, found change, and dialed his number. 
Eventually, he reached his party.

"M'sieu' Larreau?"

"Oui," a sleepy, irritated voice growled.

"Listen very carefully, Larreau," Shannon spoke slowly, his hand cupped 
between his lips and the mouthpiece. "Your daughter's been kidnapped. 
She's safe. If you do as you're told, she'll stay safe, and be returned 
to you in that condition."

"Who ...? What the hell is this ... some kind of joke, eh?"

"It's no joke, Larreau! So don't start laughing too early! We've got 
your daughter. You try anything, or bring the police into it ... you'll 
never see her alive again!"

"M--My daughter ...? Annette ...? Christ! The hell you say ... damnit! 
Who is this?"

"I repeat, Larreau. We're holding your daughter. It's going to cost you 
five-hundred-thousand dollars ... a half-million bucks ... is she worth 
that to you?"

"You're making a mistake, damn you ... whoever you are ..."

"A half-million dollars ... clear, Larreau?" Shannon spat into the 
telephone.

"O--Oui ... it's clear."

"You try anything at all to trace us, or bring the police in ... and 
we'll send her home to you in a bag ... all in little pieces, Larreau. 
You understand me?"

"All right ... all right ... Christ, you make yourself clear," the fat 
little crime czar managed.

"Good. I'll contact you again soon. At that time, I'll give you 
directions regarding the money. You better have it ready at a moment's 
notice ... you'll have only a short time to deliver it. Clear?"

"Y ... You're making a mistake, whoever in hell you are!" Larreau 
snarled at him. "I warn you ..."

"Don't bother, slob. And don't you make any mistakes ... unless you 
want a jig-saw puzzle for a daughter. Now ... do we understand one 
another?"

Silence ... then: "Oui ... it's clear."

Shannon hung up. He stepped out onto the street and took a long breath. 
So ... the game was on; he was committed. He flipped up his jacket 
collar, lighted a cigarette and walked back toward the town landing. 
Now, to the island for some fun and games.

*   *   *

Madeleine could not control her trembling as the huge muscular animal 
sniffed hungrily at her naked genitals. She looked to Annette who was 
smiling, hardly daring to breath. She wanted to scream ... but the 
great animal's wet nose against her anus shocked the urge out of her 
and automatically she lurched forward. Abruptly, she felt his tongue 
snake out and lick wetly up and down the crevice of her buttocks. His 
tongue taunted her tiny anal ring and she had to set herself against 
the sudden sensations that soared through her. She started to protest 
audibly and then the great dane began lightly licking her vaginal slit. 
She felt his tongue running the full length of it as simultaneously she 
felt Annette's hand on her naked shoulder.

"Spread your legs wider apart, Cherie. Wider!" she ordered. "Open your 
cunt to him!"

"Mon Dieu, Annette! What are you saying ...?"

"Do as I tell you!" snapped Annette; and she did, in uncontrollable 
fear.

Sir Launcelot whimpered excitedly, running his tongue the full distance 
of her open crotch, from the tightly clenched hole of her puckered 
anus, down beneath the taut pink edges of her pussy, even to the base 
of her mound of silken hair where it penetrated wetly to flick against 
her clitoris. Again and again, he repeated the act, his tongue laving 
through her soft, hair-covered genitals savagely, spreading her open in 
the tenderest parts until she began to twitch and jerk noticeably at 
his lapping and sniffing of her loins.

Madeleine continued to gape at Annette, but actually perceived her only 
in brief, fleeting moments as the unbelievable jolts of erotic 
sensation began to take command of her.

Mon Dieu ...!

She gasped aloud as Launcelot drew his long, thick tongue the entire 
measure of her cunt. Subconsciously, she clenched her eyes tightly shut 
and inched her knees a little farther apart to open the pink, gently 
quivering gap further to him. His animal tongue thrust up the moist 
hair-lined fissure, tingling at the mouth of her vagina, ravishing her 
now defenseless genitals mercilessly. She moaned openly and suddenly 
saw Annette squirming further down beneath her ... drawing her slender 
white legs back to her breasts so that her own moist cunt was 
completely exposed to her ... only inches from her face.

And then, it happened! Sir Launcelot mounted her ... his muscular, 
furry body crowding in toward her buttocks, his forelegs clutching at 
her hips. The beautiful animal's lashing, wet tongue had set her loins 
ablaze again with desire and as she turned her head she caught the 
entire reflection of their obscene act in a full-length wall mirror; 
the sight of the splendid beast mounting the sensuously spread spheres 
of her soft white buttocks, and the vision of Annette lying on her back 
with her thighs pulled back in lewd presentation of her open cuntal 
passage to be licked sending untold licentious passion spiraling 
through her mind and body.

She saw the reflection of Launcelot's massive, glistening, coral penis 
shoot forth from its long sheath, wet and hard, the tapered end 
slipping and dancing in the moist furrow of her cunt, and she felt the 
strong animal body jerk against her as he tried to penetrate her vagina 
with the thick, pointed shaft.

"Help him, Cherie," Annette instructed as she, too, watched in lewd 
delight their lascivious reflection in the mirror, her hand slipping 
down between her raised thighs to probe and rub and tweak, her long 
index finger finally easing in and out, in and out, in and out, between 
the wet lubricated lips of her gently contracting vagina.

With an unrestrained moan, Madeleine shifted her round, white buttocks 
in searching little circles attempting to capture Launcelot's 
lengthening prick, the tension within her mounting to a near unbearable 
peak. She wanted the long slippery shaft inside her ... had to have it 
inside her before she lost her mind with her building need. 
Frantically, she reached down through the beautiful arch of her thighs 
and crotch, grasping the moist, rubbery spear of hard animal flesh and 
guided its throbbing tip toward her pink, damp vagina. Immediately, he 
thrust, spreading her slightly opened cunt wider and wider as with a 
snarl he buried his long animal cock deep up into the squirming pink 
hole between her legs.

"Aaaaggghhhhhh!" she grunted gutturally, her breath literally bursting 
from her lungs. "Oooohhhhggggggg!"

Annette watched in lustful fascination as the thick scarlet shaft 
slithered forward with a wet charge until it was sunk to the hilt, 
Launcelot's hairy balls swinging lewdly down beneath Madeleine's damp 
raven pubic hair.

"Oh ... Oh ... Mon Dieu!" Madeleine moaned, her eyes wide but glazed as 
the brute fucked into her from behind while she stared down at 
Annette's several fingers moving sleekly in and out of her own pink, 
wide-split cunt. "Oooohhh ... oooohhhhh ... ooohhhhh," she chanted, 
almost in relief as she began to move backward rhythmically to meet the 
animal's powerful, long strokes into her.

Annette watched as if mesmerized, her fingers pummeling her tingling, 
wet pussy while her eyes remained fixed on Madeleine's beautiful, 
contorted face, completely enraptured by the delicious dog-fucking 
Launcelot was giving her. She watched with carnal entrancement the 
lovely girl's full taut breasts dancing and swaying beneath her 
writhing torso like pendulous, fleshy melons, keeping tempo with Sir 
Launcelot's magnificent cock skewering deeper and deeper into her from 
behind, his muscular body ramming and thudding resoundingly between her 
luscious, wide-spread buttocks, his prick a merciless piston of 
glistening rigid animal flesh sinking to its full depth deep into her 
soft white belly.

Suddenly, Annette wound her fingers in Madeleine's long hair and drew 
her face downward into her opened, damp crotch, holding her gently 
until she felt the girl's hot, wet tongue begin to lick the moist, pink 
flesh ... the roundness of her lips sucking wildly at her clitoris ... 
the length of her tongue darting up into her vagina, slashing, 
swirling, probing ... and she felt the hot breaths coming in tight 
gasps against her pink, sensitive flesh as Madeleine rotated her 
buttocks furiously, grinding them back against the animal like a hungry 
bitch in heat.

The erotic lewd sight had become more than Annette could endure; she 
couldn't hold back the climax that was about to erupt inside her from 
the voracious mouthing of her cunt that Madeleine was administering. 
She tossed back her head and wailed deeply as the needle-like pressure 
in her loins and belly peaked to send waves of rapacious erotic 
pleasure soaring through her, causing her legs to jerk out 
spasmodically on either side of Madeleine's golden head cradled face-
first in the crotch of her wide-spread legs.

And suddenly, did Madeleine, too, lift her head and cried out a 
gurgling sound from deep in her chest. Her glazed dark eyes grew large 
and round as she whimpered: "Mon Dieu ... It's beautiful! Oh God ... 
fuck me! Fuck me, you magnificent animal ...! Oh ... Oooohhhh ...!" and 
her voice died in a strangled mixture of sob and sigh, her head 
twisting from side to side, her long blonde hair flailing wildly as she 
began the first spasms of orgasms, screwing her buttocks back onto the 
thick, driving, animal cock with desperate fury.

Annette watched in the mirror as Launcelot's tongue hung loosely from 
the side of his great open jaws, panting and dripping its saliva on the 
smooth white flesh of Madeleine's voluptuous, arched back while he 
fucked into the wide-spread crevice between her wildly undulating 
buttocks from behind with savage animal frenzy. Then, Madeleine 
shrieked and slammed her ass back against the dog with a frantic jerk 
as simultaneously he thrust forward and his prick began to spew his 
animal sperm deep up into her belly with long hard spurts. Again, she 
screamed, and her buttocks began to contract convulsively while Annette 
watched the mirror lustfully to see the thick, white combination of 
animal-human orgasmic liquid ooze from her tight cunt that was still 
clasping and milking Launcelot's long, heavy prick, and thin rivulets 
of the sticky fluid trickled down the smooth white columns of her inner 
thighs ... until at last, she collapsed, her head falling back to the 
soft cradle of Annette's crotch, her cheek nestled against the swollen 
down covered mound of her moist pussy, a long sigh of release escaping 
her.

Annette ran her hand through the entangled mass of silken, blonde 
tinted hair and smiled down at her. She started to speak, but never 
finished. Instead, Shannon, whom neither had heard enter the house, 
said from the doorway: "Is this a private fucking party ... or can 
anyone join in?"



Chapter 9


At first, when he'd found the open door to the room where he'd 
imprisoned the dog and the animal gone, Shannon had experienced a cold 
emptiness at the pit of his stomach. What the hell had happened? 
Madeleine would never have let the damned brute out, but Annette would 
... if she'd gotten the chance ... and in order to have obtained that 
she would've had to put Madeleine out of commission ...

He'd ran through the house and taken the stairs three at a time, only 
to come up short in the open doorway of the bedroom where he'd ordered 
the girls to stay. Christ! They were there all right, dog and all, so 
godamned involved in a three-way orgy that they hadn't even heard him 
come pounding up the stairs. Even Launcelot's normal protective 
instincts had evidently been so overshadowed by his ruttish heat that 
he'd failed to detect the newcomer's presence.

Shannon could only gape in amazement at the unbelievably licentious 
sight. Both girls were completely naked: Annette sprawled on her back 
with her cream-white thighs yawning wide while Madeleine, with her 
beautiful round ass thrust high in the air, lay with her face nuzzled 
tightly in their prisoner's wet, down-covered genitals, her tongue 
licking furiously at Annette's pink, open cunt, and mounted behind 
Madeleine with his forepaws clutching at her waist and hips, his near-
foot of thick scarlet animal prick jack-hammering between her 
quivering, upthrust buttocks, sinking its full length into the coral, 
velvety flesh of her moist hair-fringed cunt, was the godamned Great 
Dane, fucking his heart out.

In his eventful and too often wicked lifetime, Shannon had never 
witnessed a more obscene sight that he could recall, nor had his cock 
ever leaped into hardness any quicker than it had right at that moment. 
He was damned near overcome with immediate lust and he clutched at his 
swollen member inside his trousers as Madeleine emitted a loud moan and 
began to chant and wail, her head raising to toss wildly from side to 
side while her soft sensuous body jerked and convulsed on the thick and 
squirting animal cock that was ramming and shooting its load like a 
fire hose up into her soft white belly. It was at the precise moment 
that she fell forward burying her face once more in Annette's crotch 
that he reached down and tore open the front of his pants, releasing 
his jumping and already aching shaft. He said: "Is this a private party 
... or can anyone join in?"

Annette raised to her elbows and craned her neck to see him in the 
doorway. She wasn't certain, but she doubted that Madeleine had heard 
him, and as she stared in shocked surprise she realized that the fly of 
his trousers was open and he was holding his heavy-looking cock lewdly 
in his hand, his pelvis thrust slightly forward. She felt her face 
flushing shamefully at the thought of him standing there watching their 
salacious performance, and then Launcelot interrupted with a vicious 
growl and she ordered him to the floor and to silence. Meekly, the 
animal obeyed as Shannon walked toward the bed gripping his long, thick 
prick, and she found her eyes suddenly locked upon it in rapidly 
growing fascination.

It was then that Madeleine also realized someone had entered and sat up 
with a start, her mouth dropping open guiltily at the sight of him, her 
immediate humiliation giving way quickly to astonishment when she saw 
that he was holding his rigid, heavy rod in his hand.

"Mon Dieu! Shannon, cheri," she gasped, her face a glowing crimsom. "I 
didn't hear ... that is ... I ... we can explain ... Wh--What are you 
doing ...?"

He was, in fact, undressing as fast as he could and grinning at the 
same time. "What the hell do you think I'm doing? I'm getting ready to 
join the party, baby ... even up the score with that dog, eh?"

"Wh--What do you mean, Cheri!" Madeleine stammered. "Please ... I 
couldn't help myself ..."

"No?" Shannon continued to grin as he dropped his shorts down his long 
muscular legs and stood naked before the two embarrassed, staring 
girls. "And that's my problem, angel ... I can't help myself. I figure 
if that dog can fuck my mistress, then I can even the score and fuck 
his ... logical?" His keen, hard blue eyes narrowed lustfully and 
centere