Richard Van Dorne - Ravished wife

"Hi, Sammy," Red said smiling. "Come here and say hello to my stud friend, Jocko. Come on, he won't hurt ya."

Cautiously Sammy walked over to pet the dog, and saw immediately that it was friendly. As the young collector scratched behind the dog's ear Carl suddenly startled him.

"Haven't you forgotten something, Sammy?"

"Hey, no. It's just that, well I got hung up last night, but I've got all the collections here, right over there on that table."

"Good! In that case I suggest that you gather it all up into one nice little bundle and go down to see Wade. He wants to talk to you."

"I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" Sammy asked, afraid that he might lose his job, or worse.

"No, Kid, he just wants to make sure you don't make any real mistakes, not like Paula did."

"What do you mean?" Sammy asked, his mind afraid for his girl.

"Never mind, Kid, just get your coat and the money. We'll talk to Paula when she comes home."

Sammy nodded and went into the bedroom for his coat. He paused for a moment thinking that he should write her a note, but that would be useless. He could wait for her outside, but Wade was waiting for him, and he might get into real trouble if he didn't show up this time.

Walking through the living room toward the door, Sammy nodded to the two hoods and said he would get right over to Wade's. He opened the door as they smiled at him and walked down the corridor, pausing for a moment to see if they would check on him.

Feeling safe, Sammy tiptoed back to the door of Paula's apartment and put his ear to the keyhole, hoping to find out exactly what they wanted with his girlfriend. At the first words he heard, his fear grew: "Put the gun away, Red," Carl's voice boomed through the keyhole. "Sammy's not going to come back and give us any trouble. He's a smart kid."

"I was just checkin' it, Carl," Red explained defensively. "Ya never can tell when some jerk might try to bust in and ruin it for us."

"No one's gonna wreck this job for us," Carl said, his thoughts racing furiously as he pictured the girl strapped to the bed while the huge St. Bernard's tongue licked obscenely between her wide-spread legs and built her up to a fever-pitch of unwanted desire.

"Yeah, you're right," Sammy heard Red answer. "We'll get that hot little whore in here and let the dog fuck her 'til she can't stand it. She'll pay for not doin' what we tell her, huh, Carl?"

"You'd better believe it," Carl said absently, still thinking about what would happen. He loved to watch women suffer, especially women he knew. "After we're finished with that little whore Wade'll take care of Jeff Lee."

"Ya mean the newspaperman," Red asked, sure that he knew the answer in advance.

"Right. But now, Goddamn it, take the dog into the bathroom and stay there with him until Paula gets here. We want to surprise her, don't we?"

"Right, Carl. We'll surprise her; and Jocko'll surprise her."

Outside the door Sammy Wynn could hardly keep himself from charging through the heavy wood and smashing their faces in. But he knew he wouldn't stand a chance against Red's pistol. The only way was to warn Paula, then get help.

Quickly he ran to the bottom of the stairs and pulled a pen and paper from his pocket. Scribbling a note of warning to Paula, he stuck it in her mailbox, and ran down the steps to his car. Jeff Lee, he remembered. It shouldn't be hard to find a newspaperman, especially if he's the kind who can make trouble for the mob. Yeah, Jeff Lee, he'll help me get those bastards, he thought as he sped away from the curb, racing through midmorning traffic for the offices of Miami's largest newspaper.

Twenty minutes later Paula Moore walked happily past her mailbox and into the apartment house. Her arms were laden with two large paper bags filled with groceries and a gift for Sammy. I'll get the mail when I come back down, she thought, and pressed the button for the elevator that would take her to the second floor where the two perverted hoods awaited her.

Standing at her apartment door she fumbled for the key in her purse, trying not to spill the groceries, then opened the door.

"Hello, Sweetheart," Carl's sarcastic voice greeted her. "We've been waiting for you."

Paula froze in terror as she stood in the doorway. Oh God, she thought, another beating, or maybe even worse. Where was Sammy? Her full lower lip trembled as she pictured her boyfriend badly beaten and laying somewhere in a nameless alley, unable to call for help.

"Where-where's Sammy," she stammered.

"Don't worry about lover-boy," Carl sneered. "We had a little talk and he understands everything. He's with Wade right now, getting some more instruction in our organization's ethics, so you don't worry about him. He's not in trouble, but you are!"

"Carl, I…"

But before she could finish her sentence the bald-headed man had grabbed her and pulled her into the room, throwing her to the floor and slamming the door shut with his free hand. He craved the touch of female flesh, especially flesh as smooth, soft and ripe as Paula's. Red had needs, Carl thought, but nothing like mine. I'll fix her for fucking that kid, and turning her soft little pussy away from me like she's done so many times before. Cold little bitch, I'll fix you good!

"Get up!" he yelled at her as she lay, half sitting on the floor. "Get your hot little ass off the floor and into the bedroom."

So that's what he wants, she thought, as she got to her feet. Paula knew that she would be able to take any fucking that old baldy had to offer. She remembered one time he had screwed her before, his stubby little prick trying so hard to get inside her, then suddenly cumming all over himself. I can take that form of punishment from any of these thugs, she thought, even after loving Sammy. He'll understand.

"Strip, bitch," Carl ordered, an obscene smile spreading across his face. "You've disobeyed orders, and now you'll have to pay for it."

Paula smiled as she started unbuttoning her blouse slowly. She would put on a show for him, make him feel just like a customer. Customer! she thought. Poor Sammy, if only she never had to have any customers, then they would be free. But hell, for right now, she could put up with it for just a little longer, even though she despised Carl and his impotency. He was tall, but his shiny bald head made him a hideous man, though his features weren't really ugly, only sharp and harsh, like a Nazi Colonel's might be.

She glanced up as she bent and pulled her stockings from her long tanned legs. Her eyes caught the protruding bulge of his hardening penis as it rose beneath his trousers, eager to break free and soak itself in the luxurious juices between her legs. Paula could barely stop herself from snickering at the thought of the stubby cock as she had seen it once before.

"Something funny," he asked, his voice sounding suddenly dangerous.

Paula felt a tingle of fear slide up her spine as she answered him, telling him that nothing was funny, nothing really.

Once she undressed and stood naked in front of him, Carl ordered her to lie on the bed. He could hardly control himself as he spoke, the ache in his groin throbbing through his tensing thighs. But, he would control himself, he thought, and he would control her; he'd control her until the little bitch was kneeling down on her knees begging for it.

It doesn't matter what he wants, she thought as she lay back naked on the bed and arranged the pillow under her head. I've got Sammy and no one can change that, no one, not even Carl.

Paula closed her eyes and waited for him to undress, all the time thinking about Sammy and the pleasure they had shared together in bed. She could remember his rock-hard erection stroking in and out of her burning vagina, filling her with ecstatic desire.