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Chapter 46 Not So Chance Meeting
It was 9:30 on a Saturday night and Stacy was seated alone at the bar of an upscale lounge a short walk off campus. She was deeply lost in thought as she sipped her second mojitos.
Stacy and Portia had planned to spend the evening at the library studying; but Portia had to cancel. She was playing a last minute gig at a jazz club in downtown Boston. The band’s regular keyboard player had been in a car accident and the band manager begged Portia to substitute.
Stacy studied for an hour but felt restless and couldn’t concentrate. She went back to the dorm, put on a skirt, blouse, and heels and walked over to the Bar Noir. She made a last minute decision to skip the underwear. She found it titillating to feel the night breeze blowing across her bare sex as she walked through busy Harvard Square. She sensed the way men and some women were looking at her and she chided herself for being pleased with their attention.
“You’ve become serious eye candy,” observed Portia when Stacy had recently complained about how men constructing a new campus building had yelled obscene suggestions at her.
“Hey baby, want some of this,” said Stacy grabbing her crotch as she spoke doing her best to imitate one of the men who accosted her.
“I bet you were swinging your hips as you walked and in those tight jeans, you’d have the Pope interested. Face it, Stacy, you’ve blossomed into the hottest thing on campus.”
“You’re exaggerating. Mike makes me dress in a way that attracts attention,” said Stacy.
“True, at least in the beginning but you developed a sense of fashion and a style all your own. I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen when we first moved into the dorm together. But it was hidden in sweatshirts and baggy jeans. You were the typical I-don’t-give-shit-how-I-look Harvard coed. Now you look and act like a femme fatale,” said Portia. “You’ve undergone a transformation. The caterpillar has become a beautiful butterfly.”
“Bullshit, butterfly, a femme fatale, is that who I am? You just said I was eye candy,” said Stacy laughing?
“Yes, you are a femme fatale and all femme fatales are eye candy but very few women who are eye candy are femme fatales,” said Portia adopting an authoritative tone.
“You’re full of shit. I mean that in a nice way,” said Stacy leaning over to kiss Portia’s cheek. “What exactly is a femme fatale, anyway?”
“A woman so beautiful and alluring she can enslave men without them realizing it. The historical femme fatale is sexually insatiable. She is the anti-heroine. In male dominated literature, she is the temptress who wrecks the lives of honest but weak men. Like Circe, she can be only saved by the love of a true hero like Odysseus. Women writers treat her as driven to her condition by the perfidiousness of the male sex, a la Madame Bovary.”
“Circe, I remember reading about her. She could turn men into swine with her magic wand. Totally unnecessary today, men are already swine.”
“Mike Cabreeze is not representative of all men. Maybe he is your Odysseus.”
“Mike’s Italian, not Greek,” said Stacy. “So, femme fatale, good thing or bad?”
“It can be a good thing, depends on you,” said Portia.
“Sort of like Superwoman, I must use my powers as a force for good,” said Stacy. “My life as a comic book heroine.”
“Exactly,” said Portia.
Have I lost control of my life and who I am wondered Stacy as she took a sip of her drink. She had just found herself wishing it was Friday and she was with Mike and the Posse. I must have serious emotional and mental problems wanting to be with a man who slaps me and degrades me at every opportunity.
Maybe I should go into therapy. Find myself a psychiatrist to listen to my problems. Quit burdening Portia with them. No, I’m just restless and bored. The semester’s barely started and I have a ton of outside reading. Between studies, getting ready for the Olympics, and being the whore and drug runner of a corrupt policeman, I’m headed for a busy junior year. One good thing is that Mike has been decent to me lately. Or from my crazy perspective is that a good thing?
Her recent dates with Mike had not been either painful or scary. She hadn’t been slapped or threatened even though when she pushed back. She’d noticed a softening in his attitude and she was finding that unsettling.
The Posse had been on a hiatus from its normal violent nature. No one as far as she knew had been murdered. She’d found some sense of shared sisterhood with Adriana, Wynona, and the others. They’d learned to see some dark humor in their situation referring to themselves as the Posse’s Pussy. Last night, the sex had been abundant and hot. Stacy thought about what Mike had said when he was fucking her dog style while she was sucking Zack’s penis.
“No one gets as much out of cock as Stacy. There’s not a cunt in the Commonwealth who enjoys having a dick in her as much as our Princess.”
I do like sex. Perhaps I like it more than is healthy. Maybe like Portia said, I have a yearning for danger and excitement plus sex. I’m certainly had enough of that recently thought Stacy.
I survived my first visit to AAA Auto Body. Looking back, she was pleased with how she handled herself. She’d played it cool showing those thugs she could take as many cocks as they put inside her. When Mike asked how it went, she replied, “Fine, no problems”. That caused him to look at her strange but he didn’t mention the gang rape and neither did she.
It was how I acted on the second visit to the chop shop that bothers me. Why did I do that? After her meeting with Mr. Serrentino, Sallie had taken her back to the car and told her she could go.
“Cabreeze said you don’t have to thank the guys for watching your car this time,” said Sallie. “Maybe he’s getting sweet on you.”
“If it’s all right with you, I’ll thank them anyway,” said Stacy grabbing the thin grease stained mattress and tossing it on the floor.
“Suit yourself, slut,” said Sallie turning away abruptly.
The mechanics stopped work to watch her remove her cream color cashmere sweater then step out of her matching skirt. Stacy hadn’t worn any underwear except for a pair of stay up hose.
“Venga aqui, Geraldo,” said Stacy gesturing for him to approach as she lay down on the mattress and spread her legs.
Stacy started to masturbate as the handsome Latino unzipped his coveralls.
Two hours later, Stacy had driven into the afternoon traffic with semen seeping out of her pussy and asshole. Dried male fluids covered her face and hair. She purposely hadn’t cleaned up. She’d masturbated on the drive back to Boston recalling how it felt to be on the filthy mattress surrounded by horny Puerto Ricans.
Portia’s reaction to her account of what happened was surprisingly relaxed.
“So you were horny and wanted a good fucking. We all do at times. It’s only natural. You picked a good group for it. Puerto Ricans only come in horny and they love a gangbang. It’s a form of Latino male bonding. Sharing a pussy is like sharing a smoke,” said Portia’s comment when Stacy told her about playing engine for the San Juan Express.
I’m out of control sexually thought Stacy. I’m thinking with my cunt. I need to refocus on my schoolwork and the Olympics. Still I did have a good time last night.
She’d danced with the girls until the band quit playing. They had been at the Surf Side and a quartet played Latin dance music all evening. Stacy loved the salsa and the meringue but it was the tango she did with Adriana that got everybody in the mood to return to the apartment and get naked.
When the band took a break, Adriana, Wynona and she had engaged in some very hot lesbian sex in the Ladies Room. Mike would have been pissed if he had caught her with her face buried in Wynona’s pussy.
“Act like a lady when you’re in public, especially with me,” said Mike after he caught her sitting on the commode with Wynona’s head between her legs.
“We were just having some girl fun,” said Wynona looking up at Mike from her kneeling position.
“When you’re out with the Posse, don’t act like a street whore,” said Mike lifting Wynona by her hair. Wynona made no attempt to block the bitch slap that snapped her head to one side leaving a tiny trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth. The Posse girls quickly learned resistance led to even worse punishment. They acknowledged a grudging respect for a woman who could keep her hands by her side while she was being slapped or lifted by her nipples.
“Since you two are acting like cunts, I’ll treat you like one. Blow me,” said Mike taking Stacy’s seat on the commode.
Stacy had quickly knelt down and unzipped Mike’s trousers carefully reaching inside his boxers to extract his penis. As she windshield wiped her tongue over the head, Wynona, a red handprint visible on the side of her face, joined her, lifting Mike’s testicles to lick the underside of his scrotum.
The door to the stall was open. Female patrons of the restroom nervously glanced at the two females noisily sucking cock then quickly exited.
“You like to watch, sweetheart,” asked Mike when a young girl lingered at the stall door?
“Sometimes,” said the girl.
“What’s your name, sweetheart,” asked Mike.
“Danielle.”
“That’s a pretty name. You give a good blowjob, Danielle,” asked Mike flirting with the girl?
“I guess. I haven’t done it a lot.”
“Step closer.”
“Why,” asked Danielle showing caution?
“To learn. Pick up some tips. Stacy and Wynona are terrific cocksuckers. They know everything there is to know about sucking dick.”
Stacy sensed the girl had moved into the stall and was peering over her shoulder.
“Well, what do you think,” asked Mike?
“About what?”
“Don’t be a little cunt, Danielle. You know what.”
“They’re great. They really know how to do it,” said Danielle.
“Want to join them? They’ll share,” said Mike.
“I better get back to my parents,” said Danielle leaving quickly.
Later, on the dance floor, Danielle had started dancing with Stacy.
“My cell,” said Danielle slipping a scrap of paper into Stacy’s hand containing her telephone number. Stacy threw the number away when she got home.
Later at the Posse’s Cambridge apartment, the action had become intense. Stacy had thrown herself into piles of naked bodies eagerly performing acts that pre Mike Cabreeze would have disgusted her.
And how should I process what happened this week when Portia and I hooked up with Kendra and Lloyd wondered Stacy.
I had no idea dominating another couple would be so erotic thought Stacy as she took another sip of her cocktail. I’ve always been the one being dominated. What Faye did turned me on. And I got off when Vera Russo spanked my bottom. Admittedly I was turned on when her husband and I spanked her butt. And the paintball rape at the golf outing was a real mind trip. Until we hooked up with Kendra and Lloyd, I considered myself submissive. But Lloyd said that the really good dominants started out as submissives.
I enjoyed the party afterwards. Talking and having sex with couples who have been married for decades was interesting. Suburbia, at least at the Talbot home is not the sexual desert I imagined.
“Another mojitos,” asked the bartender interrupting Stacy’s thoughts. After he delivered her drink she politely discouraged him from staying so she could think more about her situation.
Maybe I am hooked on the excitement and the sex wondered Stacy as she idly stirred her drink. Looking back, my pre-Mike existence seems pretty tame.
Portia’s right. Being with Mike has changed me realized Stacy as she checked her appearance in the mirror behind the bar. I used to care less how I looked. Now I spend more time primping than a high school cheerleader. Appearance has become important to me. I like the way men and women look at me when I dress up.
She’d picked the Bar Noir because it was the kind of place students did not frequent. A martini was eleven dollars. She didn’t want to run into anybody from Harvard. Bar Noir was located in a four star hotel catering to wealthy alums and parents visiting campus. Stacy felt she needed time to think and it was a quiet sophisticated establishment with a decent jazz pianist.
The lounge was not crowded when Stacy took a seat at the bar crossing her legs allowing her skirt to ride up. My attitude has certainly changed realized Stacy noting she failed to adjust her skirt. My mother drummed into my head from the time I was two that physical beauty in a woman is not important and the idea of using your looks to attract a man was repugnant. Worst of all was using sex as a lure. When a man looked at a woman as a sexual object, he was demonstrating his own lack of proper values. Intelligence and character were what really counted according to Stacy’s Mom.
But Mike Cabreeze did not choose me because of what was inside my head. He wanted the whole package. And when I think about it, he must have wanted me pretty bad to go to all the trouble of stalking me then having me arrested for shoplifting. Faye said Mike told her I was different. Did he see something in me that I don’t or won’t? Or did he just figure that I was trainable? Someone who would fuck his brains out if he provided the right incentives like not being known as a porn star or spending the rest of my life in prison for dealing drugs.
“Hello, Ms. Todd,” said a man sitting down beside her and interrupting her thoughts.
“I’m sorry. I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” said Stacy not recognizing the tall man with the aristocratic features. Somehow though, he looked familiar but Stacy could not place him.
“Charles Darnel,” said the man extending his hand.
“I’m awful with names. I know you from where?” said Stacy shaking the outstretched hand.
Charles leaned closer and spoke is a whisper. “Mistress Charlize, I bought you for five hundred dollars. You spent one hundred and twenty delightful minutes with me and my slave Simone.”
Stacy’s mind instantly flashed back to the New England Ladies of Leather and the Auto-De-Fe. He was Mistress Charlize now elegantly dressed in an expensive bespoke suit cut in the English style. The wrist of the carefully manicured hand resting on the bar wore a jeweled Ebel watch similar to one her father owned. Stacy guessed the man’s age as late forties to early fifties. She also noticed he was wearing a wedding ring.
When Stacy recalled the pain she suffered at Mistress Charlize and his slave Simone’s hands she almost lost it. She had to resist the urge to slam her fist into his face.
“I remember now,” said Stacy. “Where’s your leather mini-dress?”
“In my closet, dressing as the opposite gender is an old and honorable tradition of the British aristocracy especially those in the military. My great great grandfather Colonel Adrian Darnel who fell at Balaclava commissioned his portrait dressed as Lady Ariadne Darnel attending his regiment’s chiffon ball in drag. It still hangs in the manor house.”
“Did you and your slave enjoy causing me pain?” asked Stacy recalling how Simone had tied her across the punishment bench and blistered her bare bottom with a leather paddle. Spanked her so hard, a sobbing Stacy had pleaded for her to stop, offering any kind of sex to end the pain. Of course, that had been only a prelude. The electricity came next. It had left Stacy broken, confused and barely able to function. Her joints and muscles had ached for days. Her screams had left her throat so sore it hurt to talk. The only upside had been meeting Doctor Myers and his subsequent visit with Doctor Brewer. Portia and Stacy had enjoyed hours of non-stop sex with the two handsome and exceedingly well-endowed residents
“I recall having an erection so I must have enjoyed it,” said Charles. “Of course, the electrical torture made it uniquely pleasurable for me and painful for you.”
“There is the matter of the very painful rape you inflicted on me,” said Stacy. “It was three days before I could get out of bed without painkillers.”
“Fortunately, Portia was able to call upon the services of that talented young Doctor Myers. I understand you two paid him and his fellow resident handsomely for their services.”
“I enjoyed fucking them much more than I did you. But you probably know that already since you seem to know everything,” said Stacy.
“Yes, given your recent active sexual history the Auto-De-Fe may be the one instance you did not enjoy sexual intercourse. Penetration of a vagina or anal cavity subjected to electrical torture is exceedingly painful. The Gestapo always made it a point to rape female prisoners immediately following electrical torture of the vagina,” said Charles. “Some of their female Marquis went mad from having a hard German cock inside their electrified French cunts. I have some vintage footage from the Gestapo film archive that illustrates how it felt. Remind me to show it to you sometime.”
“So it was all part of a plan,” said Stacy recalling her surprise when Mistress Charlize lifted her skirt to unsnap the leather panty crotch and the largest and ugliest cock she had ever seem came into her pain-clouded view. She recalled how it felt when the hideous instrument forced its way past her anus and reached deep inside her, stretching her tortured bowels to the bursting point.
“Of course, planned right down to the last detail. Lack of spontaneity is one of my character defects. What happened to you at the Auto-De-Fe had been worked out days in advance,” said Charles. “However, It did not produce the anticipated results.”
“You thought I would like what you did to me,” asked Stacy?
“No, I knew it would be exceedingly painful. I anticipated the electrical torture would drive you insane or at the least, leave you in a weakened state it would take money to rehabilitate. However, you not only retained your sanity but also were back on your feet the next day. Quite remarkably, you proved amazing resilient to an experience that I thought would leave you a doddering idiot.”
“I have no idea what you are talking about. Nor do I care. That was not my scene. I was repaying a favor,” said Stacy.
“Not mine either but interesting nonetheless. Bartender, dry gin martini for me and what ever Stacia is having,” said Charles.
“No, nothing for me, I was about to leave. I have to get back and study,” said Stacy.
“One drink, please,” said Charles putting his hand on Stacy’s.
“I really have to go,” said Stacy starting to get up.
“If it was Mike Cabreeze asking, you’d stay.”
“I don’t know any Mike Cabreeze,” said Stacy but she sat back down anyway.
“Here, maybe this will refresh your memory,” said Charles reached in his suit pocket. He removed a white envelope and handed it to Stacy.
“Shit,” said Stacy looking at a print of her standing in the apartment doorway reaching out her arms to Mike. There was a second shot of her in his arms kissing as the door was swinging closed. One of his hands was clutching her buttock.
“So, I’m having an affair with a married man,” said Stacy. “Do you want me to wear a scarlet letter?”
“There is no law remaining in the statutes against being an adulterous whore,” said Charles. “But there are federal criminal statues against transporting sizeable shipment of heroin, cocaine and Ecstasy across state lines. I suggest you keep looking at the portfolio.”
“Shit,” said Stacy looking at a picture of her parked at the AAA Auto Body entrance. A photo of her at the airport meeting with Esther Wolfenson followed.
“Several hundred kilos and ten thousand Ecstasy tablets will get you several hundred years,” said Charles. “You are what we in the business call damaged goods, Ms. Todd.”
“If you know so much about me, then you know that Mike had me falsely arrested for shoplifting. He drugged me and made me star in a hardcore film he threatened to send to my family and their friends. And to seal the deal and make it iron clad, he tricked me into placing my prints on a kilogram of heroin. I’m an unwilling participant. He’s threatened to harm my family and my roommate and lover Portia. The bottom line is I had no choice but to do what Mike Cabreeze says. When he wants to fuck I fuck and when he sends me to pick up drugs I go,” said Stacy.
“True but the law is unforgiving about crime even when you feel you have no choice. Remember Patty Hearst?”
“Vaguely,” said Stacy. “She’s the heiress to the Hearst fortune who was kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped by a terrorist group and forced to rob a bank. She served seven years in the penitentiary. Of course, the penalty for drug smuggling is absolutely draconian, much worse than that. You’re pre-law. You should know these things,” said Charles.
“Let’s stop dancing. What do you want?” asked Stacy.
“Your cooperation in eventually bringing Mike Cabreeze and his organization to justice,” said Charles.
“And exactly why would you want that?”
“I am the head of a small organization dedicated to winning the war on drugs,” said Charles.
“DEA or FBI,” asked Stacy before adding? “But they’re not small.”
“Let’s leave that as an unknown for the moment,” said Charles.
“A cross-dressing Narc who posed as a dominatrix in order to enjoy torturing and fucking me. As I recall you blew your load in my ass after a few strokes. Shouldn’t I think that a trifle strange,” asked Stacy?
“I could lie and say I’m under deep cover, Ms. Todd,” said Charles smiling. “But the truth is cross dressing is a major part of my lifestyle and it normally involves sex, sometimes of a brutal nature. What Simone and I did to you was very erotic. So it was no wonder, I quickly filled your bowels with the Darnel sperm.”
“You’re some kind of pervert. Where’s your slave tonight?”
“Simone, she’s around somewhere, possibly on assignment,” said Charlize.
“I’m supposed to believe that rug munching sadist is a member of the DEA,” asked Stacy?
“Don’t jump to premature conclusions. Please look at the next picture,” said Charles.
“Never saw her before in my life,” said Stacy staring at the image of an attractive blonde girl who looked something like Stacy.
“And you never will because Robin Quinn is very dead as the next picture will show,” said Charles.
“That’s horrible,” said Stacy looking at the picture of the same female lying naked on a table in the morgue covered with bruises and cuts. The body in the morgue was barely recognizable. “What happened to her?”
“Very bad things, Lt. Mike Cabreeze and one or more of his posse killed her very slowly. She failed to please him or he got tired of her. Or maybe like you, she knew too much.”
“What has she got to do with me? Who was she anyway?”
“You replaced her. She was a math whiz, like Portia she had genius level IQ. Robin was an MIT student with a future in mathematical research until Lt. Cabreeze arrested her with several ounces of heroin in her possession. She became Mike’s girl until he found reason to get rid of her. He may have killed her merely to clear the way for your arrival on the scene. Or perhaps she tried to contact the authorities about the Posse. But Robin is not your equal. I think Mike has fallen in love with you and that makes you valuable to us and dangerous to him.”
“Mike’s a psychotic criminal and he does not love me. If he cared about me, do you think he would have asked Mr. Serrentino to have me gang raped. He makes me do awful things just to prove he’s in charge.”
“I understand you repeated the gang rape on your own volition. You are a force of nature, Stacia Todd.”
“My relationship with Mike has caused me to lose perspective. I came here tonight to try to regain my self-control. I don’t believe a man who enjoys slapping me, humiliating me, and ordering me to be gang raped is in love with me.”
“We always hurt the ones we love,” said Charles. “Lt. Cabreeze is a disciplinarian who believes in keeping everybody in line especially females. For good reasons, you intrigue him, and me.”
“Enough fucking bullshit, what do you want?”
“Your participation in my organization, in return I am offering an opportunity to save your and Portia’s life,” said Charles.
“How would I do that? Testify against him then spend the rest of my life in a witness protection program living in Council Bluffs, Iowa waiting for the day I answer the front door and get my brains blown out. No thank you. I prefer to take my chances,” said Stacy.
“Witness protection program, you’ve been watching too much television. Justice can be served in other ways,” said Charles. “We see Mike Cabreeze as a means not an end. With you on our side, we hope to move up the ladder to the top rung before we take action.”
“You’re not making any sense. Mike is the top rung of my ladder. I have to go. I’ll tell Portia about your offer. If she’s interested, we’ll give you a call but don’t hold your breath,” said Stacy getting up. “Thanks for the drink. Good night.”
***
Stacy was walking briskly back to the condo. Christ, what was that about wondered Stacy as she passed through still busy Harvard Square. Was Charles Darnel for real or just another stalker with a telephoto lens and a yin to jump my bones? He didn’t look tough enough to take on Mike or for that matter any of the Posse. I hope Portia’s home so I can tell her about Charlie’s offer.
As Stacy reached the darkened street one block from her condo, she slipped her hand into her purse taking a grip on the small canister of pepper spray. Technically, pepper spray was illegal in Massachusetts but the police usually looked the other way when the carrier was a coed concerned for her safety. Stacy recalled that a month ago, a woman was raped and badly beaten in that same block.
Out of fear, the woman had gone along with the rapist when he promised not to hurt her if she didn’t struggle. She’d sucked his cock then guided it into her vagina hoping to get it over with quickly. But the reward for her acquiescence had been a brutal beating that left several broken bones.
Stacy recalled with some satisfaction, how she and the others had punished the rapists outside Mariposa’s. Stacy smiled as she recalled a recent email from the Angel detailing her now very active sex life.
“Reminds me of you,” said Portia reading the email. “From virgin to super slut in no time.”
“Damn,” cried Stacy. Just as she was about to reach the well-lighted condo entrance, she felt a sharp sting and impact in the back of her thigh. Looking down, she saw a small metal cylinder clinging to her leg. She began to run but before she had taken three steps, she felt herself slowing down. Just as she was about to fall, powerful arms swept her up. Someone very tall and strong, clad in back was carrying her. She heard the sound of a car door being opened then nothing.
“Good work, Reynolds,” said Sir Charles as he placed the tranquilized Stacy on the back seat of the stretch limousine.
“Thank you, Sir Charles,” said Reynolds before closing the door then quickly entering the passenger side taking a seat beside the driver, Simone.
“Miss Todd, I see you came out missing your under garments. How déclassé,” said Sir Charles his hand resting on Stacy’s bare sex his index finger parting her labia. “You must have been hoping to get lucky this evening. Well, we can certainly make that happen. Can’t we, Simone?”
“Of course, Sir Charles, Shall I take a leisurely route back,” asked Simone putting the limousine in gear?
“Yes, simulated necrophilia with a beautiful corpse would be most satisfying,” said Sir Charles repositioning Stacy on the seat to spread her legs. He unzipped his trousers and took out his cock. He extended and began a slow stroking as he opened a small compartment to retrieve a tube of lotion. He applied a thin line of the white substance along the long shaft then carefully massaged it into the scarred, irregular flesh.
Relaxing back onto the seat, he stroked his member as he stared at Stacy’s exposed sex. “Her sex is quite exquisite. There is too little appreciation expressed for the perfectly proportioned pudenda.”
“She’s a magnificent animal,” agreed Simone. “Making her scream at the Auto-De-Fe was a sublime experience. I am looking forward to what comes next.”
“Would you like some privacy, Sir Charles,” asked Reynolds reaching toward the button that raised the partition between the driver’s seat and the rear of the vehicle?
“No, if you care to watch, you may,” said Sir Charles stroking his enormous cock to erection. “My grandfather maintained that the pleasure of sexual intercourse was multiplied by the number of onlookers. Once a year, he would invite residents of the village and surrounding estates to dine in the Great Hall. After they had supped, he would make Grandmother stand on a table in the center of the room. Next, he would rip her clothes off and savagely assault her while they watched. Of course, many of the audience lost control and proceeded to imitate Grandfather with the nearest available female. It was an event much anticipated by the local gentry.”
“I wish I could have known your grandfather,” said Reynolds watching as Sir Charles lifted Stacy’s blouse to expose her chest.
“A gentleman much ahead of his time and vilely persecuted for it, truly magnificent, the bosom of a goddess,” said Sir Charles passing his hands over her breasts.
“She has the most gorgeous tits I’ve ever seen,” said Simone recalling Stacy’s nude body from the Auto-De-Fe.
“And a sex that feels like velvet,” said Sir Charles as he inserted his cockhead and pushed forward.
A sigh followed by a loud moan escaped her lips as Sir Charles prodigious and hideous member entered her then descended to her womb.
“Hear that, a true whore’s moan. Even in her tranquilized state, she responds to penetration. Her capacity to experience pleasure from the male penis is not limited to being conscious,” said Sir Charles beginning to move back and forth. Stacy groaned and grunted in response to both insertion and withdrawal.
“Remarkable,” said Reynolds watching as an unconscious Stacy wrapped her legs around Sir Charles waist pulling him into her each time she thrust forward.
“I can’t wait until we get our chance with her,” whispered Simone to Reynolds but Sit Charles overheard.
“In due time,” said Sir Charles increasing his pace in response to the sensations being fed back from his cock.
It wasn’t until the limousine reached the garage and Simone enabled the power door that Sir Charles allowed his orgasm to take place. His surgically enlarged testicles unleashed a proportionate volume of semen filling Stacy’s womb with the life forming fluid.
As Simone drove into the garage, Sir Charles gently cleaned his cock while admiring the drops of semen oozing out of Stacy’s vagina to form a puddle on the leather seat. The drops appeared in a regular pattern indicating Stacy’s vagina was undergoing the muscular contractions of an orgasm. “Marvelous,” whispered Sir Charles.
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