The Extortion of Heather Mercer
Lubrican
The Extortion of Heather Mercer
by Robert Lubrican
Bookapy Edition
Copyright 2024 Robert Lubrican
License Notes
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Rights to use cover art purchased at freepic.comn
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Table of Contents
Chapters: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight
Foreword
Human trafficking and sexual slavery are very real problems in the world and America is not exempt. Statistically, every person who reads this book knows someone who has been involved in some way in trafficking. Most of us don't know the identity of those persons in our lives, because nobody wants anyone to know they were trafficked. Obviously, those who would seek to own other human beings don't generally advertise the fact.
This is a book of fiction that addresses human trafficking as a major part of the plot. Chapter one of this book is extremely dark. Both my proofreader and editor said they had to take a break after reading it. But both also said the rest of the book was easier, and worth reading. Of course people in those positions might be expected to say good things about the author and his work. I would tell you to believe me when I say both of those friends would happily tell me a book was garbage if that was their true opinion. So, instead, I'm going to say that if you've ever read any of my other books, then you know happily ever after is my deal. And this book ends up that way, too, at least for the characters you like … or are supposed to like. So I humbly ask you to trust me and get past chapter one. Things aren't as bad as they first appear. Or, at least they get better. And, in the end, friendships are made and lovers discover each other. The "princess" is beautiful, strong, and brave, and the "prince" isn't who you'd think he'd be but he does save the princess from her travails at great peril to himself.
At least read chapter two before you decide whether to finish it or not. There is actually some humor in it.
Finally, all locations mentioned in this book are fictional. Any resemblance to real places is purely coincidental.
Thanks for reading,
Robert Lubrican
Chapter One
'TGIF' thought Heather Mercer. Heather was a teacher and her daily week was filled with eighth and ninth graders teenagers, who were packed with hormones. Weekends were the only real time that she was free. She hoped her husband, Jerry, would remember this was supposed to be their date night. Jerry had been a mortgage broker when she met him, three years earlier. Her continuing education seminar had been at the same convention center where he was trying to become a financial planner. Sparks had flown and as they blew on those sparks they found they lived in the same town. The budding relationship had continued and within three months they were married. Now, at age twenty-six, Heather felt like she and her husband were quite successful. She drove a Lexus, for example, and she had been hinting to Jerry she was ready for the next step – children. She wasn't worried, exactly, but Jerry hadn't been displaying the eagerness to make love that he had in the past. He'd need to be eager if they were going to get pregnant.
Part of the flames that grew from their initial meeting was that Heather had a history of falling for older men. Jerry was thirty-three and seemed urbane and worldly to her. In college she had fallen for a professor, who gave her the stability and maturity she craved in her sex life. That sex life had been tumultuous because Heather came from a small town, where her graduation class numbered sixteen people. She was an eye-catchingly beautiful young woman then, and when she got to college where new friends taught her how to dress and apply makeup, she was sought after by many young men. Those relationships were never fruitful, in terms of making her feel loved. An older man recognized that in her and became the anchor in her life that got him laid regularly, until she graduated.
Since then Heather had kept in shape. She ran twenty-five miles a week and watched what she ate. Jerry had salivated when he first saw her in the hotel bar and when she slept with him he thought he'd reached Nirvana. He loved nothing more than wallowing on her big, soft breasts while he lunged into her. She was very forgiving when he got there before she did and became worthless before she had an orgasm. He was lucky that she had oral orgasms easily, whether he sucked her clit or her nipples. He assumed such orgasms were sufficient to satisfy her fully. If she had pinched him off a few times when his climax started, and made him have a dry orgasm, he might have understood how pathetic her sex life was.
She didn't compare him to Professor Sparks, who was forty-nine when he started banging her like a drum. The differences between their ages and personalities were too great. She kept hoping Jerry would calm down and lengthen their lovemaking sessions. She didn't understand that the way she carried herself, the mass of golden hair that fell to her shoulder blades when it was down, and her happy, healthy persona made her a sex bomb that made Jerry's balls explode. It probably always would if he didn't begin to pay attention to his wife's needs. There were things going on in his life, however, that distracted him from making love with his wife.
She was a popular teacher at Hoisington Junior High, where young men dreamed of seeing her naked and young women ached to be and look like her. Her co-workers respected her, though she produced a lot of erections among the men, including the administrative staff. She taught ninth grade science and eight grade English, and her kids all looked forward to her classes.
Jerry's job, which involved dealing with other people's money, gave him important contacts in the community. As such, he and Heather had many social opportunities to interact with some very well-placed people. Tonight, for date night, Heather wanted to go to a party they had been invited to by the man who owned three car dealerships in town, including the one where she bought her Lexus.
Heather glanced at her watch. If was after 6 P.M. and Jerry was not home yet.
'Another late night,' Heather thought to herself. There had been a lot of late nights, recently. "He needs to start leaving work on time!" she said, aloud.
She looked at herself in the full length mirror on the outside of the master bath door. She saw a five foot seven inch tall woman with her hair in a bun and her breasts flattened by a sports bra under the conservative blouse that was typical of her school "uniform." Her skirt fell three inches below her knees and she had on two inch black flats. She didn't need or wear panty hose. Her legs looked fabulous naked.
She took off the blouse and skirt and looked in the mirror again, turning this way and that. Her butt was round but not huge. Her boobs had been too big even when she was fifteen. She had thought of getting a reduction but Jerry begged her not to. Her waist was thin and her tummy flat with just the barest hint of the six pack muscles she kept toned by doing a hundred sit-ups every night before she went to bed.
She pulled off the tight sports bra that tamed her breasts during the school day and shimmied out of the blue lace panties she'd worn that day. Her fluffy blond pubes sprang out as if happy to be released. Her legs were still smooth from the shaving she'd given them two days before. She reached up to loosen her hair and her breasts lifted. They were big, but firm. Gravity was making it difficult (ok, impossible) to pass a pencil test but they certainly didn't sag. Her bubblegum pink nipples were always perked up and tonight was no exception. She had fairly large areolas, but they were so pale one couldn't see them unless they were less than two feet away.
She selected a black lace thong and wiggled into it. The dress she was going to wear tonight was daring, because it had practically no back t and she couldn't wear a bra with it. It had stiff panels in it to cup her breasts, but she would have to stay away from trampolines and mosh pits for the night. She grinned at the thought of either of those being present at the kickoff gala where the host would announce the winner of this year's college scholarship, sponsored by Chambers Auto Group.
When she got the dress on and looked herself over she licked her finger and hissed when she touched her ass. Then she grinned and went to sit at her vanity and tame her hair. She was thinking French Braid, tonight.
She had just put a clip on the bottom of her braid when she heard Jerry come through the front door.
"Jeeze, I need a beer," he complained, loudly.
Heather ran downstairs and whirled in front of him.
"What do you think?" she asked, excitedly.
"Take it off and I'll show you what I think," he said, grinning. "You didn't have to get dressed up to make me horny, Babe."
"We have Phil Chambers's scholarship gala tonight," she said. "Did you forget?"
He slumped.
"I don't want to go to some boring dinner. Let's stay home and play housewife and pool boy instead."
"We are going to the gala!" she said, sternly. "You're going to have me on your arm and men will offer you wheelbarrows full of money to invest for them."
"If they offer me wheelbarrows full of money, they'll expect more than just an investment," he said. "They'll want a little piece of you."
Had he known how prophetic his comment would turn out, he wouldn't have said it.
***************
They were ready to go and actually walking toward the front door when there was a loud thumping on that door. The thumping was strong enough that a little crystal horse sitting in the china cabinet moved a fraction of an inch across the glass surface it sat on.
The thumping came again before they could respond. It sounded urgent, like the police or firemen might do to get a homeowner out of a burning house.
Jerry opened the door, but it was neither the police nor firemen. Instead it was three large African American men who looked scary despite the fact they were dressed in suits, with ties.
"Hi, Jerry," said one of the men. Heather looked at her husband and saw all the color drain from his face. The man looked at Heather and his eyes devoured her so strongly her knees felt weak. "Aren't you going to introduce us to your wife?"
Jerry, instead of introducing her, backed up, leaving her closer to the men than he was. It was a cowardly move and all three men recognized that. The apparent spokesman sneered.
"Hello, Jerry's wife. My name is Bob Alveezo and I am a businessman in Hoisington. These are my associates, Chuck and Tony." He indicated who was Chuck and who was Tony. When Heather looked at Chuck's face her knees stiffened, but her heart dropped. He looked as mean as a junk yard dog. Tony's face had a bland look and she thought "professional football player" before she looked back at Bob.
"I'm Heather," she said. "What do you want?"
"Have a seat, Jerry, you too, Heather," Bob said with a familiarity that made Heather even more uncomfortable.
"What's going on?" Heather asked Jerry. She looked back at Bob. "What do you want?"
"Just shut up, Heather," Jerry barked.
Heather was shocked. In all their time together Jerry had never spoken to her in such a tone.
"What do we want?" said Bob, quizzically. "Well, you see, Heather, your husband borrowed a substantial sum of money from me and he was supposed to pay it back three weeks ago. Each week he has given me some excuse and assured me he'll pay, and I gave him an extension, but now my patience has worn thin. I'm here for my money, Heather. That's what's going on."
Heather blinked and turned to look at her husband.
"Jerry?" she said, unable to think of anything more specific. "How much money?"
"Three hundred thousand dollars, plus interest," said Bob when Jerry didn't answer.
"That can't be right," said Heather, immediately. She was convinced in her heart of hearts that this was some kind of mistake.
"I lost it," Jerry replied and dropped his head.
"What?" yipped Heather, her voice shocked. "You mean it's true? What the hell, Jerry? I want to know what's going on! Who are these men, Jerry?" Heather demanded.
Jerry just shook his head and moaned. In his job at the money management company, he had come by information on what he thought was a business venture with sure-thing returns. With a substantial investment, it looked like he could garner enough to retire five years earlier than his current plans. He had borrowed the money from the only "enterprise" that would give him that much and the whole venture had tanked. He had lost it all. So had half a dozen customers whose money he also invested in the startup.
Heather sank back on the couch in shock. Jerry started to plead with Bob to give him more time. Bob was not interested and turned to Tony and Chuck and instructed them to take Jerry for a little ride.
"Please, no, there must be something I can do," Jerry begged.
One of the other black men spoke softly into Bob's ear.
Heather continued to sit silently stunned. She did not notice the look Bob was giving her. However, Jerry did notice.
"We'll do anything," Jerry offered, his voice sniveling. "Anything at all!"
Heather didn't notice his use of "We" in his pledge.
However Bob did. And, to be honest, Bob Alveezo had many business interests, and had already noticed that Heather would fit perfectly into one of them. Before this, if he'd approached her to work for him, she'd have slapped him. Now, she had no choice, if she didn't want her husband dead. He hoped she didn't want her husband dead.
Not yet, anyway.
"Well, there might be some ways you could work off some of the money, but your wife would have to agree to work also," Bob countered.
Jerry turned to Heather and saw the tears in her eyes. Heather looked at Jerry, then back at Bob. Without asking what the work would be, Heather nodded in agreement.
"Alright, you will both start tonight, working at my club across town," Bob explained. "Jerry, can you bartend?"
"I can learn," he said eagerly.
"There may be other things I need you to do, things I need you to deliver or pick up."
Jerry nodded. "Okay. Sure!"
Bob looked at Heather.
"You have the looks. Can you dance?"
"Dance?" she repeated.
Bob explained that the club was a strip club and that Heather would be expected to work as a stripper. Heather jumped up.
"What? A stripper? I can't do that! I'm a school teacher!"
"Well, I'm hot for teacher," said Bob, casually, "so I know other men will be, too. That can be your stage name, if you want Hot Teacher."
"No way!" she barked.
Jerry jumped up and took Heather by the arm, pulling her to one side. He explained in a hoarse whisper that Bob was known to do serious, permanent damage to people who could not repay their loan. He begged Heather to go along telling her that she would be on the other side of town and no one would ever know.
"You've stripped for me," he whispered. "It will be strangers you'll probably never see again. Come on. You can do this, please," Jerry whispered.
Heather was hurt. Tears started to flow again.
"I can't do it. I can't even believe you'd ask me to do it, Jerry," Heather replied.
Bob heard Heather's refusal as he stood up.
"Too late, the deal has already been made. Chuck, you and Tony take him for that ride and I'll audition her."
Jerry was hustled out of the house, leaving Bob standing over Heather.
"Please don't hurt me," she whined.
"That's the furthest thing from my mind," he said. "I want you to like working for me. Once this little thing with your husband is taken care of I can make you a very wealthy woman, Heather."
She did not respond.
Bob just stood there, looking at her. He said nothing until she got nervous.
"I don't want to do this," she said.
"I know you don't," he said. "And you don't have to. "I'll be happy to send your husband to a fight cage to get beaten to death while I bet on the outcome. It's your choice."
"No it's not. That's no choice," she said. "How could we possibly pay you back that much money by working for you at a strip club?"
"There are other things you can do to make extra money," said Bob. "I know for a fact men will pay big for private dances with a woman who looks like you, and even bigger if you let them get touchy-feely during such dances."
Heather looked shocked.
"I'm no fucking whore!" she snarled.
"Good," said Bob. "That's the kind of spirit I like. Okay, you won't have to have sex with anybody other than me. How's that?"
"Have sex with you?" she squealed. "Not in a million years!"
"We'll see. Take your clothes off."
"What?"
"Heather, do you have three hundred and fifty thousand dollars laying around?"
"I thought you said it was three hundred thousand," she said.
"I mentioned interest."
"You know I don't," she barked.
"Then take off your clothes. I want to see what's going to make me happy tonight."
"No! You want to rape me!"
"Fight cage?" he said. "Or I could sell his organs. That would satisfy the debt. Do you want me to do that? You wouldn't have to let me touch you."
"You'd kill him over three hundred and fifty thousand dollars?" she cried.
"No. I'd have his organs harvested to pay me back. If, in the process, he died, well, that's just a sad by product of his very poor business acumen. What remains to be determined is what kind of business acumen you have."
Her heart sank. She knew, deep in her bones, that he would follow through on his threat. If she didn't submit, Jerry would die. How could this have happened to her? All she did was teach teenagers information most of them wouldn't remember in six months. She had never had a really wild sex life. Professor Sparks hadn't wanted more than routine missionary sex, which had been good enough that she didn't want to get adventurous with him. It was true that she had role-played being a stripper for Jerry, but that was just for fun. And now this huge black man said she had to have sex with him?!
"I'm no good at this," she said.
"You don't need to be right now," he said. "We can teach you to dance. In fact, I'm going to give you your first lesson right now. Watch my face and eyes as you get naked for me."
Had her history with sex been less … exploratory, the way her brain processed all this would have been different. The average woman would have shut down, or screamed, begging and pleading, possibly becoming catatonic. His attitude wasn't threatening – towards her. She had known this man literally less than ten minutes, but she knew, deep down, that he would kill Jerry if he didn't get what he wanted. She expected him to be violent with her, too, but he wasn't. If anything he displayed a patience that was puzzling. She knew what he wanted. She was used to that. Men undressed her with their eyes all the time. This was like no man she'd ever met in her life, though. What she felt in herself now was not curiosity. It was resignation. The resignation kept her from panicking. Slowly, she began taking off the clothes she'd put on for her husband.
And she saw what he meant immediately. She saw appreciation in his eyes when she began stripping. When she got down to her thong, holding her hands over her nipples, she saw raw lust. It shocked her.
"Look at the front of my pants," he said. "You're even better than I thought."
Her eyes dropped and she gasped. The front of his pants looked like somebody had stuck part of a broomstick in them.
"You're turning me on," he said. "And you're not even naked, yet. You're a natural. Keep going."
"If keep going I'll be naked," she moaned.
"That's the whole point," he said.
She had to move her hands to remove her thong and when she did she was shocked again at the look on his face. Jerry had never had that look on his face – ever! When she stood up from removing the skimpy, black wisp of cloth, he hummed.
"I knew you'd be a knockout. You're a natural blond, too, though we'll have to get rid of the pubic hair. It's gorgeous, but customers want to see a bare camel toe."
"I can't shave there," she gasped. "I don't even know how."
"I do," he said. "Let's go get what we need."
***************
Heather's mind was in a whirl. He had made her get a new razor, some scissors, and Jerry's shaving cream. They walked around the house with her stark naked but she had so much on her mind she didn't really notice that. Once they had the materials he had specified, he asked where the master shower was. She took him to the big walk-in shower Jerry had so lovingly installed. It was big enough for four.
There was a seat in one corner and Bob told her to sit there. Then he started taking off his clothes.
"What are you doing?" asked Heather, fearfully.
"I'm going to shave you while the shower is going and I don't want to get my clothes wet," he said.
When he stood up from pushing his pants down Heather gasped. His black penis was erect and it looked huge. Well, huge compared to Jerry. It was thicker than Jerry's, too, and uncircumcised. Heather had never seen one with the skin still on the tip. All her previous lovers had been cut as babies. They had all looked different in small ways. This one looked different in very big ways. The memory of Professor Sparks was dim, except she remembered thinking he was big, too. She was younger, then, though, so maybe this was all a figment of her imagination.
She didn't want this one in her, either, so maybe that had something to do with how intimidating it looked.
"Spread your legs for me," Bob's voice rumbled.
"I don't want to," she moaned.
"That will change," he said.
"Why?"
"You'll find out after I shave you. Now spread your legs."
Slowly Heather let her knees drift apart. She covered her pudendum with her hands as her legs spread. Bob moved her hand and, with a calmness that startled her, clipped her blond curlies short. She felt like she was in another dimension, peeking into this one as she watched his dark fingers operate the silver scissors and her hairs fell away in small bunches.
He turned on the water and turned the lever that sent the water to a hand wand on the end of a hose. Instinctively she moved her hands to cover her sex, again, and he aimed the water at her hands as he pushed her knees as far apart as he could get them.
"Ohhhhh," whined Heather, who was embarrassed for this black man to see her sexual core naked. Others had seen her that way and they had been strangers, at first. Why, then did she feel so exposed, now?
For Heather the next ten minutes were like being struck by lightning. He squirted shaving cream on her and rubbed it in vigorously. Completely unprepared for the streaks of pleasure her clit sent her brain, she groaned and then yipped as one of his long fingers slid into her pussy. Her whole body went stiff as she felt a kind of paralysis prevent her from fighting him. He put one thumb on her clit and basically massaged it while he pulled the razor through her stubble. She was horrified by the fact that what he was doing felt good, and yet she didn't want him doing it. She was on the verge of having an orgasm when he pulled his finger out of her and lifted his thumb. Heather was panting, now and her eyes were wild.
"There," said Bob, leaning back to admire her now bald pussy. "Now you look good enough to eat."
Then he rinsed off the remaining shaving cream, leaned forward, and pressed his face into her newly-shaved puss.
Jerry had licked her before, but he didn't find her clit and suck it. Nor did he run a finger in and out of her, moving the slick tip to her anus and pressing there, which caused her to jerk and her back to arch in an attempt to get away from the pressure. Her mind was screaming that she didn't want this but the nerves in her body didn't care. He knew what to touch and how to touch it and her body reacted automatically. The paralysis abated and she leaned back against the corner as her legs began moving. The heel of her left foot landed on his back and pressed there. Her voice produced sounds that weren't words. She was shocked at how powerfully good this felt, even though it was a total stranger doing it to her, and a black man at that! She knew she was being raped, but she didn't feel like she was being raped. The poor teacher was already in over her basically innocent head.
The orgasm arrived without warning. It could only have been classified as massive, because it froze her lungs and stiffened all her muscles for a good ten seconds. Then she wailed as everything unfroze and the incredible sensations washed through her body.
While she was in the middle of that orgasm, he rose up, kneeling between her legs, which put his long prick at the same level as her pussy. He fisted it, kneed forward, and pressed the tip between her bald lips. Heather watched this but couldn't react. Bob gripped her hips and looked at her.
"I was right. Your pussy is delicious and a lot of fun to eat." His hands clenched on her hips. "I bet it will be great to fuck, too," he said.
Then he pulled and her slick ass slid on the seat as her forward movement impaled her on three fifths of his prick.
She screamed, but it was mostly fear, embarrassment, and an inability to adapt to the situation she was in. She looked with horror at the black sapling protruding from her pussy and she felt how stretched she was inside. It was only when Bob pulled his hips back, dragging most of his penis out of her, and then shoved it back in that Heather realized there was no actual pain. She felt stretched, yes. He felt big, yes. But women's vaginas are built to accommodate any size penis. What a big one like Bob's does is scrape the sensitive walls of the vagina, stimulating the millions of nerves there, which send pleasure signals to the brain. Now she sobbed, but it was sobs of embarrassment as she felt another orgasm rushing toward her like a freight train. She was afraid this one would make her unconscious. At the same time she hoped she would lose consciousness so she didn't have to cope with this.
She got a reprieve when Bob just pulled out. She watched more and more and still more appear and she was astonished that it had been inside her.
"Let's go somewhere more comfortable," he said, standing. He offered his hand and she took it automatically. Then he led her out of the shower and, ignoring the towels, to her bedroom and her marriage bed.
He didn't say anything. He simply lifted her by the waist and laid her on the bed as if she weighed ten pounds. When he crawled onto the bed her legs spread of their own volition. Heather tried to close them, but his knees were in the way. He crawled up until the tip of his heavy penis touched her pussy again. He was so tall that his neck was over her face. She was also unprepared for being kissed by big, warm, soft lips that moved much more than Jerry's did. He kept them there for fifteen or twenty seconds and then lifted them to move them to her nipples, which were turgid and ultra-sensitive.
"Aaaeeee!" she whined as streaks of pleasure shot to her pussy. She wanted him to keep doing that forever and she was disgusted that she felt that way. He switched nipples and some kind of survival instinct kicked in, convincing her to stop fighting and just roll with it. She panted, "Don't stop! Keep doing that. It's going to make me cum and I want to cum!" Immediately she hated having said that, but the waves of pleasure were stronger than her will to resist.
He let her cum, kissed her three or four times, and then stared into her eyes.
"Put me in," he said, softly.
"I can't," she whined.
"It's already been in you," he said. "Just put it in and I'll rock your world."
"I don't want to cheat on my husband," she groaned.
"Your husband is the reason I'm telling you to put it in," he said.
He kept staring.
"Go on," he urged, softly. "Put your hand on it. You'll be playing with it a lot from now on, but for now, put me in."
"This is rape," she whined.
"Maybe, but you'll get used to it. All the others did. None of them turn me away, now."
"Then go do this to one of them."
"Sweetheart, you are so many levels above any of my other women that I still can't believe I found you. Now, put me in."
He felt the tentative grip of her thumb and two fingers on his cock. He moved and she aimed it. When it parted her pussy lips he just slid it in until only an inch was left outside of her. She groaned, but bucked her hips up at him, instead of trying to get away.
"You're killing me," she gasped.
"I promise never to fuck you to death," he said, as he pulled out and slid back in.
He established a leisurely in and out that was just movement. There was nothing rough about it. In fact it was almost gentle. The nerve cells in Heather's pussy got lovingly stroked in a way that produced an orgasm, but one she could feel coming and get ready for. When it got there it was like warm honey, spilling all over her.
"I hate you," she sobbed.
"Go ahead and cum," said Bob. "Get used to it, because you're going to cum a lot on my cock."
Three more of those orgasms later she no longer sobbed. She could feel the difference between her first and this one. The first few he gave her were wild, unpredictable and uncontrolled. Now, though, her pussy rippled all around his cock and she groaned with the joy she couldn't resist. She had never cum like this with Jerry. She had never had an orgasm with Jerry that was even close to what this hated strange man was making her feel. Her mind still rebelled, but her body got used to the long, thick, orgasm-delivering penis she was being fucked with.
He stopped, suddenly, with as much of it in as he'd been able to prod her with. She looked at his face and his eyes were wide.
"What are you doing?" she panted.
"Trying not to cum," he said. "You have a very talented pussy, Mrs. Mercer."
"You already raped me," she said, her voice low. "Please don't cum in me. Jerry and I are trying to have a baby and I'm not on birth control."
"Nobody will cum in you bareback," he said, pushing and making the tip of his prick push the back of her vagina and stretch her cervix, "with one exception."
"You mean Jerry?" she asked, hopefully.
"Okay, two exceptions. Jerry can continue to try making a baby with you."
"Thank you," she huffed. "I can't believe I'm thanking my rapist."
"Remember why you're here," said Bob. "You're here to help repay a substantial amount of money owed to us by your husband. Dancing alone would probably let you pay that debt in as little as four years. I'm not going to touch your teaching pay. But I seriously doubt you want to have to endure this," he pulled out and pushed back in, stretching her cervix again, "for four years. And you will be enduring this. I may let select clientele fuck you, occasionally, but I will fuck you often. You are the perfect woman for me. You're feisty, gorgeous, tight around my prick …" He wiggled his hips back and forth as he pushed and the little squirt of semen he'd put on her cervix allowed the eye of his cock to seal against the little mouth to her baby chamber. His desire to get deeper conflicted with the size of her vagina and she felt pain.
"Ow! You hurt me," she complained. Nothing up to that point had been painful.
Then he pushed and stretched her enough that his pubic bone pushed 220 pounds of weight directly on her clit. Not only that, but he slid from side to side and up and down in a small circle.
The result was what always happened when he was successful in getting all of his prick in a woman. The woman came and she came devastatingly hard. He watched her eyes, which rolled up in her head as she took in a huge breath of air and gave a hoarse cry of ecstasy.
Her pussy began to tremble and milk him, and this time he didn't resist. With a groan of his own, he let his prick fill the small emptiness that was around the head of his penis. Her womb was the only other place it could go and, stretched as it was, her cervix kept nothing out. He imagined what he always imagined when he came in a woman. His black seeds rushed into her womb like rampaging Visigoths. In this woman's case they all searched for an egg to have their way with and leave pregnant.
Heather felt a sudden warm glow erupting where the tip of his long cock was.
"You're cumming in me!" she gasped.
"Ohhh fuck yeah I'm cumming in you," he grunted. He kept torturing her clit and saw yet another orgasm wash over her face.
All that did was finish milking his prick of every drop of his spunk.
***************
"You promised not to cum in me," Heather sobbed.
"No, I did not," he said.
They were on their sides. His arms were around her, preventing her from pulling away. His cock was still in her, though it was so soft she couldn’t feel it as more than a presence inside her.
"I told you nobody would cum in you bareback with two exceptions. Jerry is the first, and I am the second. I will always fuck you bareback and I will always cum in you."
"If you do that you could get me pregnant!" she yipped.
"Yes, I could. I hope I do, in fact."
"You rape me and then you want to rape my womb, too?"
She pushed hard but his embrace was like bands of steel.
"I'll make you a deal. If you have my baby voluntarily I'll forgive half your debt," he said.
She was shocked in to silence.
"You think a baby with me is worth a hundred and fifty thousand dollars?" she panted.
"Well, it will probably be worth two hundred thousand by the time you have it, considering the interest Jerry is racking up, but the answer is yes. I've had children with other women but I've never found a woman like you and I know if we made a child, it would be exceptional."
She frowned. She tried to feel outraged, but thus far, while technically he had raped her, it had not been the traumatic, agonizing experience she expected when he first told her how things were going to happen. There was steel in her that had never been exposed, before, because it had never been needed to support her, before. She already had a kind of love/hate relationship with him. What she didn't want, but had to admit, at least to herself, was that they did have a relationship, even if it disgusted her, and she'd only known him for what seemed like half an hour.
"No. I can't do that. I married Jerry and I want to have his baby, not that of some loan shark pimp who is apparently going to rape me repeatedly for literally years."
"Tut, tut," said Bob, smiling. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but this cock is going to make you sing. How many orgasms have you had tonight?"
"I don't know," she grunted, trying not to think about those orgasms.
"You had eight," said Bob. "I counted them. How many times has Jerry or any other man given you eight orgasms in an hour and a half?"
"Hour and a half?" gasped Heather. "It can't have been that long!"
"Time flies when you're having orgasms," he said. "If you want me to, I can get hard again and give you three or four more."
"No!" she gasped.
"Then we need to get you to the club so you can learn how to shake your money-maker and start paying off some debt."
"What if Jerry gets me pregnant?" she asked.
"Then you have the child you've always wanted and I keep trying."
"You said only you and he will be able to fuck me bareback. That sounds like there might be other men who will …" She stopped and swallowed.
"Don't you worry your pretty little head about that," said Bob. "I'm not going to use you as a whore, though I can tell you I could make you into a thousand dollar a night call girl. And that's in this town. If I trained you and sent you to a big city you could charge three grand a night and your dance card would be full. No, you are for very special situations in which I need to be able to give a man the best of gifts that is not money. In those cases you'll have to give yourself to those men, but there won't be many and all of them will wear condoms."
"What about this club? I'll be naked there. I presume there will be lots of men there. What if one of them rapes me in some back room?"
"That won't happen in my club," said Bob. "The penalty for that has already been established and everybody knows it."
"What penalty?"
"A man did that one time. He forced a young woman much like yourself to have sex with him, or start to have sex with him. Jimmy, one of my bouncers, got to him before he could get all the way in her and threw him out of the club."
"That doesn't sound like much of a punishment," said Heather.
"The man was very unlucky after that. He kept having accidents and one of them involved too much fentanyl. He overdosed and died."
Heather blinked. She wasn't stupid. Bob was a gangster.
"You killed a man for rape?" she whispered.
"A man who hurt a young woman I cared about bragged that he got away with 'having free sex' with one of my dancers. Then he decided to try fentanyl and he liked it too much. Or maybe his source gave him some uncut drug, which he didn't try carefully. The police weren't sure. Drugs are very deadly, Mrs. Mercer. I'm sure you've told your students that."
"A man dying in an overdose wouldn't send the kind of message it's obvious you wanted to send," she said.
"It does when the man was never known to use drugs until he got banned from my club for life. My point is you will be safer in the club than you are in your own home." He smiled.
"I really hate you," she growled.
"I don't think that's true," he said. "I think you had a very good time tonight, even though you didn't want to. I hope you have fun dancing and that it does the same thing to you it does for many dancers."
"Which is?"
"You make lots of tips, and get horny."
"Horny? I doubt that seriously," she snorted. "And even if it did, Jerry probably won't touch me after all those men slaver over me. He may never touch me again because you put your dick in me."
"Maybe not," said Bob. "But I will. I'll make sure you don't go to sleep horny."
"I really hate you!" she shouted.
***************
Mysteriously, there was a limo waiting for them when he led her out of her house.
As Heather climbed into the back seat of the stretch, she saw Jerry sitting against the other side and she sat down next to him. He had told her to put the dress back on and her short skirt rode up high enough to expose the black lace of her thong. Chuck got in next to her and leaned forward to boldly look at her crotch. Tony was driving, and she saw his eyes glancing at her often. Bob sat across from her and his eyes continued to rape her. She couldn't feel it, but she knew his sperm was in her, soaking in. She looked at Jerry but he was looking out of the window on his side of the car. Heather tried to put her legs together, but that was useless as the skirt was too short. Jerry sat silently not saying anything as the car lunged forward. Heather fought back tears as Chuck placed his hand on her knee and patted it, before sliding it toward her sex. He did it right in front of Jerry. When she saw Bob looking at his henchman's hand, she reached and stopped it, pushing his hand off her leg. Chuck laughed and Bob smiled.
Jerry never stopped looking out through the window as the car wound its way through the city and to the other side of town. They drove for almost forty minutes. Heather did not say a word, nor did Jerry. Chuck didn't try anything, but she felt trapped, and the way Bob stared at her made her realize she would lie under him again, and his hated penis would violate her again. What she felt in that moment was a dull sensation. She didn't feel hate. But she also didn't feel anything except helpless.
Finally the car pulled into the parking lot of a very large and lit-up building. The marquee flashed "Miss Kitty's" in neon red over the building and another said "Girls, Girls, Girls, Live, Nude Dancing." Jerry looked at the full parking lot and then looked at Heather.
Bob sent Chuck inside and he returned with another dancer who only wore a G-string and high-heels. Heather was shocked as the girl appeared outdoors, breasts exposed for all the world to see, and very casually asked Bob what he needed. Bob pointed at Heather and instructed the red-headed woman, whom he called Audrey, to show Heather the environs for the dancers and give her some basic lessons in stripping.
"I want her in the rotation right away," he said.
"Got it," the woman said. She tugged on Heather's arm and led her across the empty parking lot. Heather could not believe that Audrey just walked around in a G-string, high heels, and nothing else.
"So, what's your name?" the red-headed woman asked.
Heather said nothing at first.
"Mute, huh, must be your first time?"
Once inside the building Audrey took Heather's hand and led her to a long room full of partitions with mirrors, each where a dancer could sit and do her makeup.
"I know this is hard for you. When Bob brings me someone like you it wasn't her idea. You're not here voluntarily, either, am I right?"
Heather nodded.
"Not to worry. A lot of us have been there. We'll take care of you and show you how to survive. You're gorgeous, so you'll be popular. When you're popular the feedback from the men is positive. There will be trolls, too, but you can just ignore them. If one gets too rowdy then other patrons will step in, and the bouncers will throw him out."
Audrey explained to Heather that she would dance every hour for 4 to 5 minutes and strip all the way to her garter and G-string. If she wanted to remove the G-string, she could, but she could not touch her vulva. Audrey told her that after the dance she should walk close to the edge of the stage to allow the men to tuck tips into her garter.
"It's ironic, but it's actually considered gauche to take the money in your hands," said Audrey. "You can pick it up off the stage and take it in your teeth, though I wouldn't recommend that. Cash is filthy."
"There's actually something gauche about stripping?" said Heather, who was startled by Audrey's erudite speech.
"Strippers are at the top of the sex worker food chain," said Audrey. "Most of us don't sell our bodies to Johns, though some do. A lot of dancers are working their way through college by stripping. If you apply yourself and have fun you can make a lot of money."
"And how do you … have fun?" asked heather.
Audrey shrugged.
"You learn to love turning men on and driving them crazy," she said with a smile. "They all want you, but they can't have you. They know that and if you play act a little, and dance like you wish they could have you, it creates an atmosphere where they love you and will pay you piles of money for the fantasy you give them."
"I don't think I can do that," moaned Heather.
"Then just shake your ass at them and get lots of lap dances. You can usually double your money each night if you get enough lap dances."
"I don't know what a lap dance is," moaned Heather. "I'll never be able to do this. I'll look stupid."
"Sweetie, you couldn't look stupid in a place like this if you studied how and tried your best. You're beautiful and that's the asset that will get a lot of faults forgiven. A lap dance is where you dance all around the patron and even sit on his lap, if you want to. You get as close to him with your good parts as you can. He is not allowed to touch you and people will be watching to make sure he doesn't. One song is 40 dollars, 2 songs cost 60 dollars. We have rooms in the back for private dances, but anything beyond a lap dance is between you and the customer," Audrey commented. "Personally, I won't do a private dance for less than a hundred bucks. By the way, we need to get you ready because I need to get you into the rotation now. That dress will be fine for your first time. Just imagine you're taking it off for your boyfriend."
"I'm married," moaned Heather. "He has to work here as a bartender, too."
"How much do you owe him?" asked Audrey. Then she waved her hand. "Never mind. None of my business. Imagine you're stripping for somebody you really want to turn on. You can close your eyes but not all the time. Listen to the music and it will give you the beat. You've danced hundreds of times. Just dance one more time. Okay, Jane is about finished. You're next on the stage."
"I'm not ready!" gasped Heather.
"You're never ready the first time," said Audrey. "Just listen to the beat and dance. The worst that can happen is that nobody tips you."
Heather's head was spinning. This was really happening. She was going to have to take her clothes off in front of strangers to pay Jerry's debt. Heather recognized that the music for the girl on stage was coming to an end. A naked girl with clothing bundled in her arms and a fist full of money came off and passed by Heather without a glance. New music started. Heather peeked through the curtain and decided she was not going to do it. She turned to leave, but couldn't. At the foot of the stairs, three feet away, stood Chuck and Tony. Heather's 'choices' were whittled down to one: "start dancing".
She backed through the curtain and started swaying to the music. The announcer introduced her as Hot Teacher, who was finished with school for the week and ready to party hard. He said, "I bet you never had a teacher who looked like this." There were cheers and hoots.
***************
Bob took Jerry out into the crowd and over to a bar with an unobstructed view of the center stage and crowd. A large, burly bartender named Jake showed Jerry the ropes and gave him an apron. Jerry heard the music end and looked on stage and saw his wife come from behind the curtains. The song was a fast one that he knew Heather liked and Jerry watched as his wife began to gyrate and twist in time to the music.
***************
Heather took a deep breath and looked out into the crowd of men. She couldn't tell if the men were looking at her or not. The bright lights made it difficult to see further back than the first two or three rows. The stage was a semi-circle with perhaps 20 - 25 seats around it. There were three chrome poles, one in the center and one on each end.
Heather moved toward the pole closest to the entry curtain and tried to imagine she was at home, stripping privately for Jerry. She didn't have all that much to take off. She closed her eyes and turned her back to the crowd and slowly pushed one strap off her shoulder. Heather removed it showing just a little shoulder, then pulled it down, exposing one breast. She covered the breast with one hand and looked out at the crowd.
"I've never done this before!" she called out. She didn't intend to say anything, but it helped reduce her stress.
"Take it off!" came a man's voice. "You can make me stay after school," yelled another.
She moved her hand and there were whistles. She turned her back and showed them the backless dress. She pushed the other strap down and let the top hang. Covering her breasts with her hands, she turned and closed her eyes.
Slowly, she moved her hands, turning that motion into a caress without intending to.
"Look at that fucking rack!" yelled a man.
She opened her eyes and danced a bit toward the edge of the stage and she could see clearer that the club was full of men. Some around the stage started to applaud as she danced. Bills began to appear on the edge of the stage. Heather turned her back again and pushed the dress down. Stepping out of it she posed, awkwardly, now dressed only in her thong and four inch black heels. She hadn't been wearing hose because her legs didn't need that to look fabulous. Bob had looked at her in this thong after he fucked her. He had put his finger where her split was and pushed the thin cloth up. Now the thong displayed the shape of her pussy lips. She knew Bob's cum was still coating her vagina, and probably soaking the thong. Could these men tell she had been fucked only an hour earlier?
She moved around the edge of the stage again then went back to the center and bent at the waist placing her hands flat on the floor, like she'd seen an actress do in a movie. This drew more attention and Heather heard the crowd start to roar. Heather next tried to dance around the pole, continuing to repeat what she'd seen in films. She finally stood, legs spread, and put her hand over her thong, moving it up and down. She wasn't actually touching herself, but it looked like she was. The music was almost done and she stumbled to the curtain. Audrey was there and she turned Heather around.
"Go get your tips!" she barked.
When she appeared back on stage there were hoots and hollers. She felt her face get red as she scurried around, picking up ones, fives, and tens. She felt like a street beggar, but the voices of men were all positive and that actually helped, somehow. Finally, tips in her hands, she faced out, cupped her boobs, and shook them at the men. The response was loud.
Heather gathered up her clothes and exited the stage as another woman took her place. As she got to the bottom of the stairs she burst into tears. What confused her was that the source of her tears was elation that she'd pulled it off, mixed with shame that she'd done it. Chuck took the money from her and counted it.
"Three hundred," he said. "You can do better." His eyes told Heather what he wanted to do to her. Were all these gangsters sex addicts? Audrey hurried up and reminded Heather it was time for the lap dances and took her clothes from her.
Jerry watched as his young wife worked the crowd of men, naked except for a G-string. Down off the stage the men could get to her and if they paid for a lap dance they wanted to put the money in her thong. More than one tried to get a finger in her but she danced away. Later she would know to say, "No, no, no. No touching. You know the rules." Now, though, she was so rattled that she let men cup her breasts or pull at a nipple. Some of the men wanted more than a lap dance and the suggestions made Heather blush. She did not intend on prostituting herself in addition to stripping.
She was given a drink, and she gulped it. She thought it might be peach brandy. When it was her turn to dance again, she felt a little better. When she was finished she handed another three hundred to Chuck.
Then it was more lap dances, and putting her clothes back on and going back on stage again to dance her routine. Each time she performed lap dances afterwards. Her inexperience allowed men to do things she would know how to deflect, later. One customer was able to get his hand down the front of her thong and before Heather could twist free he stuck two fingers inside her pussy. Suddenly Chuck was there and the man yelped as Chuck "assisted" him in removing his hand. Heather heard Chuck warn the man about being banned from the club. Heather's breasts glowed from being pawed and stroked. One customer offered her an extra hundred to suck her tits. Heather refused and was thankful it was her turn to dance again. She handed the money to Chuck.
She saw Chuck and Tony all night, but not Bob. Chuck and Tony were everywhere, including the dressing room, where naked girls getting ready to dance ignored them completely. She found it easier to be a stripper than she had thought it would be. The fourth time she handed Chuck money he counted it and said she'd made two grand that night.
"You'll be dancing for years," he said, cruelly, "but you're doing pretty well for a rookie."
Heather broke through the curtains again to strip. She had not thought about the fact that the more money she made the sooner the nightmare would be over. She looked past the crowd at Jerry to see him tending bar. During one of her lap dance tours, she noticed that Jerry's tip jar was only half full. Mindlessly Heather stripped as she knew what she would have to do.
As she walked into the crowd again, Heather went right to the customer who wanted to suck her tits and pushed them into his face. He offered the same hundred and Heather responded with a counter offer of a hundred for each nipple. The customer laughed and agreed. He pulled Heather onto his lap and started to suck her right tit, pulling the nipple into his mouth and chewing it gently. When Chuck started toward them she waved him away with her hand held low, so only he could see it.
Heather tried to ignore the zings of pleasure the man's mouth were creating and then tried to imagine it was Jerry and closed her eyes. The customer alternated between her left and right tit, sucking and biting the nipples, pulling them from Heather's chest and releasing them. Heather allowed him to play with her breasts for one song, then extricated herself and worked the crowd again. She realized her thong was damp. It wasn't designed for this kind of thing. In the future she would have to buy some G-strings and other sexy underwear.
About one quarter of the crowd were black and one large black man motioned for Heather to come to him. Heather swayed over pushing her tits out to try to make the sale. Heather asked if he wanted a lap dance and the black man laughed. He handed her a note and when she opened it, it read, "Negotiate your own price but blow him until he cums. I recommend whether you swallow or not be part of the price negotiations." It was signed, "Bob."
She froze. Things were happening too fast.
"Well?" the big black man growled. "I'll give you three hundred," he said to Heather.
Heather swallowed. This was real. Bob was baptizing her by fire. This was her life, now, at least on Friday and Saturday nights.
"Three hundred will get you off," she said. "If you want the full monte it will cost you four." She cocked one foot and licked her lips. "The full monte includes swallowing."
"Fuck me," said the man. "You're on, Baby. Now get down on your knees and suck this black cock."
Heather sensed that if she let them, men would run roughshod over her. She knew she had some power, she just didn't know how much. She wanted to develop a reputation as a woman you treated well, so she'd treat you well. She decided to try something.
"I don't want to get my knees dirty," she said. "Let's go someplace a little more private."
"Lead on," growled the man.
She took him to one of the cubicles used for private dances. There was a straight-backed chair in the room and that was all. Signs on the wall warned that no touching was allowed unless the dancer specifically approved it. She sat on the chair and beckoned to the man, who walked over. He was tall enough that his groin was right at the level of her head. She reached for his zipper and he said, "I'll give you a grand if you let me fuck you."
"Is that what Bob approved?" asked Heather.
"No, but who'll know?"
"There are cameras, to make sure everything stays safe," she said. "For all I know Bob is watching us right now."
The man looked around and saw a camera in every corner of the room.
"Fuck. You better do a good job."
"Lock your knees when I get going, or you may go down in a heap," she said.
She worked his zipper down and then undid his belt and pants, which dropped to his ankles. She was presented with another long, black cock. She gripped it and stroked it a few times. Then, before she could lose her nerve, she stuffed it in her mouth. This one was circumcised and looked "normal" to her so it was easier to just close her eyes and suck him like Professor Sims had taught her. She got as much of the thing in her mouth as she could and then sucked hard while she pulled her lips to the tip. Then she sucked just the tip while she stroked the shaft. He grunted as she pushed the tip of her tongue into the slit that would soon open and deliver his cum.
She cupped his huge, hairy balls and hefted them, as if she was weighing them. She pulled off and looked up.
"Your balls are nice and full for me."
Then she went back on and sucked for her life. She had only done this to Jerry twice and he had cum almost immediately. This man wanted it to last. Still, she was so ardent that he felt his sap rising. He looked at her blond hair and pale skin and his black cock sticking in her mouth.
"You better swallow," he growled.
Then he reached and held her head while he spurted.
His hands felt like steel clamps and Heather knew she would either swallow or choke. She didn't pay attention to anything other than swallowing as fast as she could once his cock began erupting. She felt one glob escape the corner of her mouth and run down her chin. Instinct made her reach behind him and grip his buns, making it clear she didn't want him out of her mouth. She kept sucking and chewing until he pushed her away.
"Damn, Bitch. Don't bite it off!"
She scooped up the dollop on her chin and pushed it into her mouth.
"You taste yummy," she lied.
The man pulled up his pants and once they were fastened got out his wallet. He counted out five hundred dollar bills.
"I have to admit you earned it," he said. "Bob said I'd be happy with you and he was right. I wish I was going to be in town longer. I'd figure out a way to get what you just sucked in the fine, white pussy you have."
"I'd still have to have Bob's permission," she said. "I need to get back to the stage."
He followed her out and she watched him cross the room and go up a flight of stairs with a sign hanging over it that said "Employees Only." She wondered if that's where Bob's office was.
***************
By two in the morning Heather was bushed. What kept her going, to her chagrin, was the constant level of chemicals in her bloodstream that made her horny. She knew it helped her dance better, and it helped immensely with the lap dances. She found it fascinating to see the looks on the men's faces as she gyrated near them. One young man she knew had to be a rookie like her because he blushed furiously as his friends, who had bought him the dance, egged him on. She thought he was so cute that, when she finished, she kissed him on the lips. His friends hooted and he covered his crotch with his hands.
Others were more predatory when they looked at her. She learned how to tell which guys would try to grab or pinch her and she learned how to glide out of reach and still dance on.
By the end of the night she had earned three thousand dollars. Tony came to get her and said the limo was ready. When she got in it, Jerry was nowhere to be seen.
"Where's my husband?" she asked.
"He got other transportation," said Tony. "You need to make a little detour on your way home."
"Where?" she asked, feeling uneasy.
"Bob's house," he said.
***************
Bob's "house" was a mansion. It was three in the morning but she was greeted by two young women in maid's uniforms who looked like they might be seventeen. They took her to a suite that had a big, round sunken bathtub in the floor.
"I'm Jane and this is Elise. We are to help you with your bath and get you ready."
"Ready for what?"
"Ready for Bob," said Elise.
They helped her undress and then, to her surprise, stripped out of their uniforms, too. Both had no pubic hair and Heather saw a splash of color at the top of each girl's slit. She bent over curiously and saw the girls had matching tattoos. They were curled up, fire breathing dragons, only an inch high and maybe and inch and a half wide.
"Your tattoos match," she noted.
"All of the women like us have this tattoo," said one of them. "When men see it they know to leave us alone."
"Leave you alone?"
One girl put her finger on her tattoo.
"This means we belong to Bob. Nobody else can have us unless Bob says so."
"He doesn't own you," Heather objected.
"No," laughed one of the girls. "He protects us. We serve at parties, usually nude, and guests need to know not to get in trouble by bothering us. There are other girls the guests can play with. Elise has a boyfriend." She pointed to the other. "I'm married. We have normal lives."
"If he tattoos you, then he must want more than being glorified waitresses," said Heather.
"Of course," said Elise. "Occasionally he fucks us. But I have a great place to live and I make more than you do. You're the teacher, right?"
"How do you know that?"
"Word gets around. He's never had a teacher before. Now, let's get you spruced up before he comes looking for you."
Heather was further amazed when the two women got in the tub with her and gave her a very efficient, if intimate, bath. Their hands moved all over her and the horniness that had begun to fade rushed back. When they got her out and dried her it only got worse. While Jane applied makeup to Heather's face, Elise dabbed sweet smelling scents between her breasts and then opened a little jar of salve and put a finger-full of the salve right on Heather's clit.
"This will make sure you have a good time," she said. "Bob gets it from somewhere in the Amazon."
"What is it?"
"Let's just say it enhances your pleasure," said Jane. "We need to hurry. He'll be ready by now."
They took her through hallways, stark naked, padding along on bare feet. They saw no one. Stopping at a set of tall double doors, Elise whispered, "I envy you," and opened the doors.
It was another suite, with a big, round bed in the middle of the room. Bob was sitting in a big overstuffed chair to one side, wearing a robe. He looked up and smiled.
"Janie! How wonderful to see you." He stood as both women moved to help him remove his robe. He was naked under it. And erect.
He sat back down and looked at Heather.
"I'll be with you in a minute. I need to talk to Jane."
He looked up at Jane who climbed onto the chair with her feet beside his hip and then squatted as he held his prick upright. She found him effortlessly and sank down on his long, black pole with a sigh, rather than a groan. Bob leaned forward to suck one of her nipples and then leaned back.
"How's Ron? Did he get that promotion? Are you two about ready to start a family?"
"Yes and yes," panted the woman, who was moving her hips forward and back slowly.
"Now, now," said Bob. "You need to go home and get Ron's sperm in you, instead of mine. Besides, mine is destined for somewhere else."
"Just one?" asked the married maid sitting impaled on his prick.
"As long as you don't milk me," he said.
"I can't help that," she moaned. "I'm almost there."
He leaned forward again and serviced both of her nipples. She went off with a squeal and slumped. Bob lifted her off his pole, which was still long and hard, but now shiny. Jane scampered off and Elise almost ran forward to take her place. Bob let her fuck herself on his pole for two orgasms and then told her to go home.
Heather was tired. She had danced for hours. But she'd been horny and whatever that salve was they put on her fired her up even more. When Elise skipped out of the room Bob looked at her.
"You ready to get loved and then get some sleep?"
"I can't spend the night here," she balked. "I still have a husband."
"Your husband is quite content just to be alive," said Bob. "Now, I told you you'd be horny when you finished up tonight. Was I right?"
She stayed stubbornly silent.
"Heather," he said, softly. "Answer the question and tell the truth."
"Yes," she admitted, grudgingly.
"I am, too," he said. "I'm horny for you."
"Bastard," she snorted. It was everything she could do to keep from throwing herself at him but her pride helped.
"I've had hundreds of women, but only one or two like you," he said. "Maybe not even that. You're special."
"Is that why you told a man I'd suck his dick?"
"Oral sex is nothing," said Bob. "You'll do that as often as you turn lights on and off. What I want to do right now is the thing you will do only rarely, and only with me."
He stood. His prick pointed at her.
"Tell me you want me to fuck you," he said.
She clamped her lips closed.
He moved to her and bent over, sniffing.
"You're turned on, little Heather," he said. "You just had a bath and you still smell like you're in heat. You need a prick in your pussy and a baby in your belly. I'm here to help with that."
"Help?" she blurted. "You make me your slave and say you're helping?"
He called her bluff. He stepped back and picked up his robe.
"Get dressed," said Bob, curtly. "Tony will drive you home."
He shrugged into his robe and closed it over his erection.
"Wait!" It came out without her intention. It came from a place that knew if she left now she would never be able to go to sleep, even as tired as she was. And the last thing she wanted was him to be angry at her. Things were bad enough and he thought he was being nice to her.
"Just tell me," he said, patiently. "Tell me what you need."
"Why are you making me do this?" she cried.
"Because I want there to come a time when you run to me to be loved," he said. "I want you to crave my cock in your pussy and my baby in your beautiful, flat belly."
"But I'm just a school teacher," she whined.
"You are," he said. "And you'll continue to be. The community needs you as a teacher. But you are so much more. You have the potential to be a hell of a dancer. I was amazed at how quickly you caught on to that. You'll still be Jerry's wife. All I want is for you to want to be my mistress."
He took off the robe again and gripped his prong.
"See what you do to me, Mrs. Mercer? You make me want to be a man."
Her shoulders shook as she cried. She knew she could never go back to her old life. And she knew she'd have to admit to both herself and him that she had to have him, too. He had raped her. He had taken her only once, but she had to admit to herself he had ruined her for other men.
Ten minutes later she was still crying, but now they were tears of joy as he stretched her and made her cum. She arched against him, hating him and craving him at the same time as the salve robbed her of the ability to resist feeling what she did not want to feel.
Then he filled her fertile pussy with his spunk.
She woke twice during the night when he mounted her again. The first time she had an orgasm before he seeded her.
The second time she almost went back to sleep as he fertilized her again.
Chapter Two
In the morning Jane and Elise were there again and had the bathing pool ready. They stood by as Bob took her in the pool. Their hands played at cleaning them both while he made waves as he powered into her married pussy.
They ate naked and then Bob finally told her to go home and sleep. He wanted her at the club again that night.
"Will you do this with me Sunday morning?" she asked.
"Do you want me to?"
She ducked her head but whispered what she knew he wanted to hear. "Yes."
"Good girl," he said. "I might give you a break tonight and fuck you in my office instead of making you dance all night."
***************
She was alone in the back of the limo. Tony was driving. This was the first quiet time she'd had to think.
She felt fine, physically. Actually, the amount of dopamine that had been produced in her body over the last 24 hours was probably equivalent to a week's worth under normal conditions. It was five in the morning, so there was almost no traffic and the limo hummed along almost silently.
"Tony?" she called. His head turned and then went back.
"Yeah?"
"If people see me getting in and out of a limo all the time that's going to look odd. I teach 8th and 9th graders English and science."
Tony remained silent.
"Maybe I should just drive my own car to the club," she said.
"Bob might think you'd run," said Tony. "If you run he'll hurt you. I don't want him to hurt you. I like you."
This was the most Tony had ever said to her since she met him. He sounded sincere and not at all "gangster." Again she reminded herself she had known these people for less than twenty-four hours. In those hours she had learned a lot about herself. She couldn't fathom how she could be attracted to Bob, except that the sex was fabulous and it had been a long, long time since she'd had fabulous sex.
"Thank you, Tony," she said. "I'm glad you like me. I won't run, Tony. I know what's at stake, here. If he didn't hurt me he'd hurt my husband and I don't want either of us to get hurt."
"You're husband should be dead," said Tony.
"What?" she was shaken by the calm finality in Tony's voice.
"If you was my wife and some guy came and said he was going to make you do what Bob is making you do, I'd fight until I was dead. I wouldn't cave in and let some asshole fuck my wife and make her fuck other people and all that."
Heather felt a tingle run down her back. Tony was the first person she'd met since Bob came into her life who had any compassion at all.
"Well, I'm flattered you feel that way, but I don't want you to get hurt, either. I can survive. Women were made for this, after all. And Bob can actually be kind of sweet sometimes."