Robert Desmond - House of Evil

"Listen, this is something that I'm sure we both agree ought to be done," the naked blonde chimed in, her lush white breasts swaying slightly as she rocked forward a little on her haunches, the upturned palms of both hands extending outward toward him to emphasize their lack of choice in the matter. "I know decisions like this aren't easy to make, darling, but don't forget that we'll be stranded without anyone but John for awhile and that won't be very easy, either."

"Dammit, baby, I just can't help myself," George objected, grimacing in disgust as he lifted his eyes to glower at Nadalee for a moment. "I despise even the thought of having to tell Newton that he's fired from a good-paying job, a job he likes, because of his wife's perverted way of entertaining herself during working hours. I'm afraid this girl's poor husband will lose a damned sight more than his position, though, because only yesterday I telephoned our San Francisco bank and made arrangements for the deposit of a healthy chunk of cash in a savings account I opened for them… You see, I'd been thinking of the farm."

"It's really sad that little Nadalee here can't behave, isn't it?" the voluptuous blonde said, wagging her finger at the cowering girl like a mother punishing a naughty child by shaming it. "Well, George, I guess she's left you with no alternative but to cancel the account the very first thing tomorrow morning."

"You're Goddamned right, baby! All I've got to do is get on the telephone with Joe Samuels, the president of the bank himself, and I can promise you that the account will be dead within twenty minutes – just as dead as the only real chance that Newton will probably ever have to buy his dream farm," George rasped peevishly, a bitter sneer twisting his lips and intensifying the look of sternness that naturally characterized the expression on his face. He paused for a moment, thinking, then continued less harshly, "Jesus, it really does seem rotten of me, though, to hit a nice hard-working guy like Newton with such a terrible disappointment this way… so soon."

"No, you mustn't blame yourself, George, because it won't be rotten of you and Newton won't feel any terrible disappointment, none at all, not when he doesn't know a thing about the money in the bank or even that you opened a savings account in his name," Dolores corrected smoothly, her tone solacingly soft and gentle in an outward show of concern for him. Then, in a more matter-of-fact voice, she added, "Besides, she obviously excites Braun so much that he's always frustrated, always walking around the house feeling angry and hurt because he doesn't realize that she's something he can't have… even though he caught her spying on us. And even if that problem with Braun could be solved somehow, there's no reason to worry about having to fire them and take back the farm money. He'll understand why you're letting them go, anyway, and he won't know about the big opportunity that his wife is causing him to lose."

She lifted her eyes slightly away from the piteous sight of Nadalee's wildly quavering body to glance at her silver-haired cohort in sexual blackmail, the blonde's mask of seriousness fading and the faint trace of a grin shaping her mouth when she saw George's face. With his head sagging downward and his chin resting high up on his chest, he pretended to be thinking again, profoundly, frowning gloomily as though whatever was on his mind filled him with sorrow and resentment. It was true, Dolores decided admiringly, that the man was an absolute genius when it came to manipulating people, leading and forcing them into compromising situations, positions in which others could not help but fill the pair's mutual need for entertaining distractions from the boredom of wealth. She loved this strangely exciting blackmail sport her husband had taught her and never failed to be astonished by his wonderful talent for creating an entirely different set of rules for each new game they played at someone else's expense. She also adored the agreement they had that allowed them to swing with other sex partners, together or apart if necessary when the other lovers they found for themselves were either too shy or afraid to perform right out in the open. She was grateful to George for salvaging her from the dreary predictable life she had led as a model in the best salons in New York City and she was always willing to go along with his marvelous schemes.

"Well, even though this mess seems harmless to you," he grumbled sullenly after a long silence, "this is one time you're wrong… because it's worse than you think."

"But how can I be wrong?" Dolores wondered, puckering her lips in a forged pout of mild abashment and enjoying the sense of pride she felt in her ability to pounce on his cues and give the right replies and responses back to him. "There's just no way that Newton can be heartbroken over losing a chance he'll never know he had. It's a cinch that our darling Nadalee won't risk telling him, especially not after he hears how her sluttish behavior cost them their jobs. There's no one else around here to tell him… who even knows… and I certainly won't ever say anything to upset him more. So don't work yourself up so much, darling, because there's nothing to worry about… at least not as far as that's concerned."

"Hell, I might as well break the grim news to you now," George began solemnly as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and rose to his feet slowly with a grave look on his face. "Newton knows all about the farm fund I started yesterday… about the account in his name, everything."

"Oh God, I'm so… so sorry," Dolores lamented, "but how did he find out?"

"I hate to admit it, God knows, but I told him early this morning," George announced, feigning regret and pausing for a moment to let his words sink into Nadalee's dazed mind. "Just as always, he came up to get some logs burning in the dining room fireplace, and since I was downstairs, I figured it would start his day out right to give him the good tidings. He got so excited he actually swore a few times and then he made me promise not to say a word about it to anyone. He wanted to keep it a secret from his sweet wife until he thought it was time to, start looking around for a place… then he would surprise her."

"It's so pitiful," Dolores said, sympathizing, "and now I understand your concern for him."

"You'd understand how rotten and sad it is, baby, if you'd seen him leaving to go back to their cottage for his breakfast," George said, shaking his head. "He must've felt ten feet tall when he headed for the kitchen door, swaggering and whistling like someone without a worry in the world."

Then, easing his great bull-like body a few steps backward, George cocked his head and eyed the girl still standing next to Braun, delighting in the visible effects of the sadistic torture they were inflicting on her. The thrillingly beautiful young wife's eyes were tightly shut, her face bloodless and white, and she clenched her lower lip between her teeth to keep them from chattering. Christ, he thought, he could hardly wait to watch the show he was sure now would take place in a few minutes. It was all he could do to keep from giving the bald idiot the signal to throw Nadalee Parker on the bed and take her at will, but George wanted to punish her and force the young helpless wife of his hired hand to beg him for mercy. He knew that she was helpless and utterly confused now, ready to make a bargain with him… even though she was fated to lose her proud innocence in the deal and little realized that there were no terms he and Dolores would accept other than theirs.

"All right, there's no sense putting it off," George broke in, "so we might as well get dressed and go down to have our little talk with Newton."

"Please… please don't tell him anything," Nadalee implored, her voice a meek trickle of sound as she spoke for the first time since entering the bedroom.