Gloria Day: House of dark pleasure

"Then come in," the man's voice shouted. "The door's not locked!"

She turned the big handle, pushed, and the door swung open, soundlessly. Doris stepped inside, staring about her, nervously and curiously. The cottage was well-furnished in a massive, old-fashioned way. The front door opened onto the main room, and in the center of the floor, a frail, elderly man was sitting behind a large desk.

He fixed his eyes on Doris with a piercing stare. "You're someone new; I haven't seen you before!"

Doris approached him, diffidently. "I-I've just started working for Mrs. Wynton; I'm going to be looking after the rents and things."

He smiled. "Well now, you're a change from Mildred!" He drank her in with his eyes. "Pretty as a picture and soft as honey and cream," he murmured.

Doris smiled, flushed at the compliment.

He slid open a drawer, took out a small pile of bills, counted some off and put on the desk-top. "Here's the rent, Miss…" he paused, "you didn't tell me your name."

"Dainton," she said, "Doris Dainton."

He nodded, "You've got a nice name, too." He waited, then: "You'll have to come and get the money, you see, I'm paralyzed."

Doris drew in her breath, noticed the crutches beside his desk for the first time. "I-I'm sorry," she mumbled, moving forward, "I didn't know!" She picked up the money, counted it, pushed it into her small purse. "I'll give you a receipt."

"Don't be sorry," he said, "it's just my legs the rest of me's all right." He laughed. "I get around; you'd be surprised how I get around."

Doris moved beside him, bent over his desk to make out the receipt then felt his hand on the bare flesh of her leg at the back. She flushed, squirmed herself, slightly, but went on filling in the amount on the receipt.

"Nice, soft young flesh," the old man murmured, stroking the roll of flesh on her inner thigh.

Doris squeezed her legs together. "Mister Macallister – please!"

His hand went on moving, slid up to her silken pantyleg. "Barney," he said, "everyone calls me Barney!" His finger moved inside the tight pantyleg and he stroked the crevice of flesh where the swell of her buttock met the top of her thigh.

"Don't," Doris whispered. "That's not right!"

The drawer in his desk was still open; he reached in with his free hand, took out a bill, pushed it across the desk to Doris. "A small gift for you," he said, softly. "Does that make it right?"

A fresh flood of color suffused Doris' face; she stared at the bill, it was a ten!

His hand was on the back of her panties, where they stretched so tightly across her bottom. He drew his finger up the silk-covered cleft. "Take them off," he whispered. "I just want to stroke it, caress and feel it!"

Doris stood very still, staring at the bill and trying to think straight. He isn't hurting me! But…

"I'm just an old man," murmured Barney Macallister. "I'm here by myself most of the time – I don't get much fun!"

His hand was high under her mini-skirt, pulling at the waistband of her briefs, sliding them down her legs.

Doris squeezed the cheeks of her bottom tightly together to impede him. He felt the muscular contraction. "Don't do that," he pleaded. He reached in the drawer again, took out another bill, placed it with the other.

Another ten, Doris saw. Her buttocks relaxed and her panties slid down to her ankles.

He squeezed the soft flesh with lecherous pleasure. "Sweet little bottom," he mumbled, "as nice as I've ever felt!" His finger slithered through the cleft, touching the small anal orifice, lingering a moment then moving on. "Lean over the desk," he murmured, his voice shaky. "I want to see it as well as touch it. Bend forward, Doris, let me look at your soft little ass!"

Her face was burning but Doris leaned forward, propping her chin on her hands as she leaned over the wide desk, letting her bare, rounded bottom project just inches from the old man's face.

He stroked the soft flesh lasciviously, making drooling sounds of pleasure. He squeezed the pliable rolls on either side of the cleft with jerky, excited movements. His hand slid lower, touched the crevice at the top of her thigh – then moved inward.

"No!" Doris tensed herself. "Not there – you didn't say you'd touch me there!"

His fingertip found the wet lips of her pussy, tried to slide in. Doris tightened the cheeks of her bottom; squeezed her thighs together and his finger was trapped.

"Let me!" he panted, struggling to move his finger. "Let me feel inside your cunt!"

"No!" Doris moaned, gritting her teeth, jamming her buttocks together. "Just-just my bummie – you said you wanted to touch my bummie – not my pussy!"

"Here," he gasped, breathlessly, "have this – and this – and this!" His hand shook as he reached in the desk-drawer, took out bills and added them to the two in front of Doris.

She twisted her head down, watched in wonder. One, two, three, four, five… She gasped; there must be seven or eight bills by now – and all tens!

She relaxed her buttocks, parted her thighs, waited breathlessly for his reaction.

His hand had moved off her flesh; he was doing something that she couldn't see, in his lap. She could hear the rustle of clothing, then he spoke. "Now do what I want – any Goddamned thing I want!"

Doris screwed shut her eyes. He's paid me! "But don't hurt me!" she pleaded.

"I won't hurt," he promised. "Stand up and turn around!"

Startled, Doris did as he asked, then stifled the sob in her throat. He had unfastened his pants at the front; now a long, slim penis projected straight up as he slouched back in his armless chair.

He grinned at her expression. "Squeeze your wet cunt onto that!"

Doris felt a crazy blend of fear and fascination.

The old man reached to her skirt, dragged it up at the front, stared at her pubic thatch.

"Brunette," he mumbled. "I like brunette hairs round a young, juicy cunt!" He licked at his lips, then mumbled, "My granddaughter's brunette!"

"Your granddaughter!" Doris' voice was shocked.

He nodded. "As pretty a little sixteen-year-old as you ever saw."

Doris' mouth sagged. "You-you do this to your granddaughter?"

He gave a cackling laugh. "Every month when she comes to see her poor old grandfather." He wet his lips, "She's got the tightest little cunt I ever fucked!" His penis twitched as he spoke.

Doris stared at him in horror. "You monster!" Her eyes were round, angry. "Doing that to a little girl – you awful creature!"

He cackled again, then made his voice wheedling. "What else can a lonely old man do?"

"You-you…" Doris broke off, sighed. He's a lecherous old man; taking advantage of a young innocent girl and now, trying to do the same thing to me! She moved her lips, indignantly, then had a crazy impulse to smile. He pretended to be so helpless, sitting paralyzed in his chair, but he'd managed to find a way to get his erotic thrills by doing awful sensuous things to young girl juicy young girls, he said! She sighed again. He has some kind of courage – and determination… and, he's paid for his fun!

"Now, take your skirt off," he said, impatiently. "Step out of those cute little panties and straddle me with your sexy young thighs – I wanna fuck!" He gripped his penis at the base, and Doris saw the head swell. "My cock's all ready," he mumbled; he met Doris' eyes, added: "I've paid for it!"

Slowly, averting her eyes, Doris unclasped her skirt, dropped it on the desk-top; daintily, she stepped out of her panties and took a nervous step toward the old man in the chair.

He stared at her belly and thighs as she got closer to him; there was a sheen of sweat on her skin, making it glisten, appear more sensuous, erotic, desirable.

He wet his lips, reached forward, gripped her round the buttocks and pulled her closer. "You'll have to do it all," he told her. "Like I said – I'm paralyzed." He watched the ripples run across her belly and the thick pubic hairs seemed to bristle with electricity.