Robert Desmond - House of Evil

She groaned at this further debasement and shut her eyes quickly to blot out the disgusting sight. It was enough to have been so weak and to have allowed her body to surrender to the degrading feelings that the slavering Braun had aroused in her but to be forced to submit to her middle-aged employer's insulting vulgarity afterward was almost too much to bear. She remained motionless on the bed, sitting there suspended in a timeless coma of guilt and shame, unable and not even wanting to move. Her cruelly violated pussy still throbbed from the savage fucking she had been given and the bald idiot's hot sticky cum still leaked in a lewd trickle from between the stretched hair-lined lips. Her entire body felt used and raw, its innocence forever dirtied by the obscene things that had happened to her that afternoon. Anyone who wanted to could have come in the room at that moment and pushed her flat on her back again to fuck into her stomach at will. She could not resist or care for she had whored her body and nothing mattered anymore. Her whole world had unmercifully exploded in her face within an hour or so and the true impact of its meaning had not yet fully dawned on her naive tortured mind. And yet she felt as though she were on the thin edge of realizing something very important about herself and the basis of her marriage with Newton, her pious young husband. She ached to know exactly what it was but her thoughts rushed blindly around the boundaries of real understanding, her brain refusing to accept it for some reason. There seemed to be something terrifying that was wedged between that moment and the future, something terrifying but strangely thrilling as well, and she sensed instinctively that eventually it would change her destiny just as much as what had happened this afternoon on the very bed where she was now sitting.

"Come on, get up, you little whore," George ordered contemptuously, his voice a harsh stab in the stillness of the room. "Dolores, isn't there a new uniform somewhere next door that she can wear instead of her torn clothes?"

"Yes, darling I'll go get it," the blonde woman replied, a light of amusement shining in her blue eyes. "But don't you think the girl should have to pay for it this time?"

"Yes, by God! We'll deduct it from her next paycheck," the millionaire agreed vehemently, his expression and tone thawing a little as he went on with, "a bit at a time, of course, since we don't want to make Newton suffer because his tramp wife's such a cheating little bitch."

"That's generous of you, George… very, very generous, come to think of it, considering how much we've done for her already today," Dolores observed. The mature, voluptuous woman gave Nadalee a tolerant smile of fake sympathy and continued, her tone subdued but full of extra meaning as she announced, "You must know, dear, that everything is changed now – now that we've decided for the time being not to tell your husband what you were caught doing and that we watched you practically rape poor Braun."

"Christ, yes, and wouldn't he like to know how you ripped off your dress because you were so anxious to excite the helpless idiot with the sight of your naked body… to make him behave like a dumb animal?" George taunted in a near-whisper of mock anger. "And an top of everything else, wouldn't he like to hear how you almost cost you your jobs and the big chance to buy the farm he wants so much… works so hard for?"

"But-but, y-you were wa-watching and… d-did that m-mess… on me," Nadalee stammered uselessly, her glistening underlip turning downward and exposing her straight white teeth as she fought to contain herself and not break down in tears.

"You caught it on tape, didn't you, when Nadalee was raping Braun?" George asked, pronouncing every word carefully for effect and ignoring the distressed girl's last statement.

"I wish I hadn't had to," Dolores answered with an exaggerated sigh as she suddenly produced a miniature tape recorder she had been concealing in the palm of her right hand, "but here it is… the truth of what happened in her own words."

The strikingly sensual blonde held up the tiny instrument and pushed the "play" button. There was a long silence and then a slight rustle of static before a young woman's voice broke out clearly from the bantam-size speaker.

"Turn it up louder," George instructed his wife, a stern look of disapproval tensing his face as he glared without pity at the shocked, wide-eyed girl seated before him.

"OOOH GOD, DON'T EVER STOP – PLEASE DON'T EVER STOP…! FUCK IT, DARLING, FUCK IT HARDER AND FASTER!"

Nadalee stared in disbelief at the tiny machine cradled in the blonde's band, her huge green eyes rolling and gaping open as her pretty face paled again.

George Blackwell maintained his outward appearance of indignity as other obscene words blared from the recorder, waiting patiently until he thought that his young victim had heard enough to shock her beyond any thought of future resistance on her part. He reached over then and flipped off the battery-operated recorder and saw Nadalee drop her sweet face in her hands, her copper-colored hair flowing down around her naked shoulders as she began to sob fitfully in uncontrollable humiliation and shame. The job was done, George thought with satisfaction, the young wife was tamed and her lily-white purity had been stained beyond recognition.

"Since there's nothing else to say, my dear, why don't you take off the rest of the day? As a matter of fact, I insist," he said without waiting for a reply.

"Well, I don't know if…" Nadalee began weakly.

"And by the way, I think you should wear those frilly white underthings… the ones my wife bought for you in San Francisco… under your uniform tomorrow," George went on confidently, showing his teeth in a broad, smug smile.

"I'm sure she knows what you're talking about, darling," the blonde assured coolly. "Come on, Nadalee, you want to get dressed now, don't you?"

The bewildered girl nodded a faint "yes" and moved slightly, pulling together her battered limbs experimentally to see if everything worked. She gasped with pain as she swung her firm long legs over the edge of the bed, pausing there a moment to allow her aching muscles a chance to adjust to the surprise of movement. Then, taking a deep breath, she rose waveringly to a standing position beside the towering bulk of her stern-faced employer. The ravaged girl stood there a moment longer, threatening to topple over in a heap on the floor, until she extended both hands with a wince of misery to accept the wad of underwear that Dolores had retrieved from the floor next to the bed.

Nadalee struggled slowly into her mutilated nylon panties as she cast a last look around the bedroom, a scene that she was certain was burned indelibly on her memory forever as a symbol of the debasing pain and humiliation she had undergone there this afternoon. The haunting beauty of her young face blanched to a pale waxen color as she ran her eyes quickly over the bald servant's obscene nakedness where he lay still sprawled on the bed, his huge penis slouched limply between his hairy legs like a long fleshy length of thick hose.

God, it was impossible, she shook her head in wordless disbelief, her mind struggling vainly to erase the truth. She was still only eighteen and yet she was already a cheating wife as well as a common little whore… a whore who had actually been excited while her smooth young body was being used! She had actually exploded in wild orgasm – twice! – and been flooded with warm waves of lewd animal pleasure! There was no possible way she could ever live down her horrible wickedness and betrayal of Newton's trust in her as his wife.