Outlaw Lover

Outlaw Lover
SASKIA HOPE

This edition first published in 1994 by
Black Lace,
332 Ladbroke Grove,
London W10 5 AH
Reprinted 1994
First published as Wicked in 1991
Copyright © Saskia Hope 1991
Typeset by TW Typesetting, Plymouth, Devon
Printed and bound in Great Britain by
Cox & Wyman Ltd, Reading, Berks
ISBN 0 352 32909 2
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall
not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired
out or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior
written consent in any form of binding or cover other
than that in which it is published and without a similar
condition including this condition being imposed on the
subsequent purchaser.
Black Lace novels are sexual fantasies.
In real life, make sure you practise safe sex.

Prologue
AD 2075
S
he was quite close when he saw her first. It had been
a big fire and it was out now, but he had been sent
around the back here with his hand-held heatfinder to
check there were no hot spots that might re-ignite when
the firemen were gone.
She picked her way across the rubble with the delicacy
of a cat, coming towards him. No member of the public
should have been there. He was tired and dirty and he
wished she would go away. He turned back to the ruined
building, resolutely continuing his scan, but not before he
had seen that she was tall, elegant and lithe.
She was also masked. That meant almost certainly she
was of the upper classes, the rich bitches who led fashion
and did as they pleased.
Not with me, he thought sourly.
Suddenly her perfume assailed his nostrils. His air-mask
was hung around his neck and he had been breathing the
acrid aftermath of the fire since it had come under control.
The clean beauty of the smell of her broke through his bad
mood and he looked at her. It was night and the fire was
out. There was little light close to them, but if it was dark,
1

she was darker. She wore a one-piece garment that
sheathed her body like a second skin and he saw her velvet
black against the paler background, all richly rounded
contours at breast and hip, with long shapely thighs above
slender calves. She dropped to her knees in the filth at their
feet and without saying a word she reached for his
overtrousers. He went into shock as she hit the release
button and felt for and found the trousers he wore
underneath.
The heatfinder scanner was slack in his hand now. He
braced himself as his heart pounded. He had heard of this
kind of thing but barely believed it. It was always what
happened to someone you only knew of at third hand,
never to yourself or your immediate acquaintance.
Her hands went busily about their business with an
assurance that could only have come from practice. By the
time she had his penis out, it was strengthening and
lengthening of its own accord. Her head tilted slightly
back. He saw some white throat exposed, and the fall of
black hair over her wide shoulders.
Her lips parted. They shimmered in the gloom. Her wet
mouth was a dark invitation and he wasn't going to refuse.
As she drew his penis in between her lips, he felt dizzy.
He had never been sucked. His wife wouldn't do it, nor
had the few girlfriends he had had before marriage. The
heat touched his glans and his staff leapt in her hands. She
withdrew for a moment and laughed throatily, a soft
husky sexy sound. Then she cradled his balls with one
hand, ringed the base of his prick with her other, and
began to suck him in earnest.
The world vanished and all that remained for him was
his need to keep upright and the fabulous thing that was
happening to his cock. He felt it stretched and drawn into
the hot furnace of her mouth, compressed between her
cheeks, tortured by her teeth and battered by her tongue.
His cock squeezed and rhythmically pulsed as she drew
on him.
She made the 'o' of her lips tight as she forced her head
towards his groin, pushing his foreskin back and bathing
2

his glans in wet warmth. Her teeth gently abraded its
sensitive surface and he felt it swell and bloom in the
hothouse of her mouth. Her tongue writhed around it and
squeezed with the muscular power and agility of a boa
constrictor. He gasped and shook as her fingers roved in
the jungle of his groin and teased his balls and gripped
the root of his cock.
Looking down he saw that her face was dark but that
around his cock the ghostly glimmer of her lips made a
shimmering ring that seemed to have a life of its own,
ethereal, sensual, wicked.
Then she drew back, sucking fiercely on him almost to
the point of pain. Again, he felt faint with the pleasure of
it and his cock jerked and danced in her grasp.
She began to speed up and he groaned as his knees
sagged. She drove down on him and sucked back and he
felt his juices accumulate. His balls ached. His glans was
on fire. His prick seemed to swell and swell and suddenly
it burst open and his spunk flooded out into her mouth.
His hips jerked helplessly as he drove into her mouth in
the extremity of his climax. She sucked and swallowed and
sucked and swallowed and at last he was done.
She released his sagging prick and flicked round it with
her tongue. Then she sat back on her heels. He groped for
his trousers.
'Look/ he said in an urgent whisper. 'I've got to know
who you are. How do I get in touch with you?'
'Why should you?' Her voice was barely audible, indif-
ferent, yet sleek.
'It was wonderful,' he said hoarsely. 'I must meet you
and repay . . .'
'You owe me nothing.' She got to her feet in a fluid
graceful movement. She was like a purring cat. Content
within herself, she had no need for him now. She began
to move away.
'Your name?'
'No name.'
She turned and moved quite swiftly over the uneven
surface. Soon she had blended with the night, and her
3

darker blackness was absorbed and lost within its frag-
mented shadows.
The fireman fastened his clothing as if in a dream. He
switched on his heatfinder and continued his steady
scanning of the dereliction about him. His groin tingled
and glowed. He could still remember in his muscles the
pull of her mouth. But he wanted more than memories.
Once the city had been a patchwork quilt of vigorous,
lusty, varied life, but that was long ago. Technology had
shrivelled the workforce, and those that operated the
machines were now almost as clever and certainly as
well-educated as those that invented and refined them. The
few got richer and the many drifted. The city crumbled,
slowly, almost luxuriously, showing its bones in a decay
that was as obscene as a velvet-clad corpse. The rich
retreated into their own world and fashioned it as they
liked. Few bridged the two worlds. The fireman was one
of them. The law enforcement agencies were another. And,
quite naturally, so were the lawbreakers.
Particularly the pirates.
Those that do not have enough long for more. The
human species entered its technocratic future burdened
with the hopes and fears of cavemen, for evolution is
fuelled by sex and sex hasn't changed worth a damn in
half a billion years.
What those who don't have enough fail to realise is that
those who have everything have nowhere to go. To the
extent that this is true, the pirates who lived in squalor in
the city and made their money thieving had the drop on
the rich who lived in the jungle up in the hills, even if
neither party realised it.
The pirates preyed upon the rich. The rich fantasised
about the pirates. Made heroes of them. Lusted after them.
Sex is a great leveller.
Fee Cambridge ran her fingers the length of her pussy and
back again. She sucked them thoughtfully before repeating
the process. She took her time, letting the tips of each finger
4

sense the warmth and wetness whilst between her legs she
felt her own caress, rimming the entrance to her body and
moving towards her little shaft, her tiny male member,
aroused and quivering at the attention it was receiving.
She was lying on one side on her bed, her legs sprawled
open, watching herself frot her sex and play with her own
private parts.
After a while, she noted almost absently that her pussy
was fat and engorged, the flesh standing proud and
flushed with readiness. She reached for something lying
on the bed beside her and put it between her legs. She
pressed its cool flat surface against her vulva, pushing up
with increasing strength till her sexual flesh was crushed
against it. She was flat on her back now, her legs drawn
right up and folded at the knees so she had maximum
spread. Her eyes were shut as she held the thing against
herself and concentrated. She flexed internal muscles,
squeezing her own pussy, and then very carefully she
withdrew the artefact and relaxed her body.
She opened her eyes and looked at it. It had a glassy
surface, crystalline and reflecting. The alkaline-acid bal-
ance of her exterior sex, a measure of her randiness, was
accurately recorded on its surface where a chemical reac-
tion between herself and it was etched.
She had kissed the mirror with her juicy vulva and the
kiss was now recorded as a smoky etching to cloud the
pure surface. Still naked, she rose up from the bed and
carried it over to her dressing table. She opened a phial
and using a dropper she put one or two drops of clear
liquid on to the mirror's surface.
Gradually it stained blue. The deeper the etching, the
more powerful the original reaction, the darker the blue.
After a short while the process was complete. Fee fixed
the mirror on the wall of her bedroom and looked at it.
Infinitely glowing as if lit by interior light, the shades of
blue made a shape at once haunting and evocative. The
double line, long, slightly asymmetric, with deep blue
pressure points and a paler interior hung with speaking
silence upon the wall. Near its base where the hole of her
5

entrance had pressed, it was a deep royal blue, almost
black in its centre. Where her clitoris had pressed was a
small sharp point of rich colour, sapphire sex.
She would wrap it and send it to her husband. It was
the latest thing in Valentines. Perhaps he would get the
message and at last she would be satisfied. Her body ached
for penetration and like the monkeys that swung in the
jungle outside her home, she wished she could bend
double and suck herself to satiation.
Fee Cambridge was a highly intelligent woman and she
was aware that there was a variety of solutions to her
problem. She had found herself increasingly favouring one
of them. It was the craziest, the most dangerous solution
but after months of conjugal neglect her sexual hunger was
now so deep that she was beyond thinking rationally on
the subject. She ran her tongue around her lips and
remembered the taste of a man's spunk. Not her husband's.
It was good but it was not good enough.
She didn't just want what she could do to a man. She
wanted what a man could do to her. And she was
beginning to know what sort of man she wanted to do it.
If she couldn't have her husband, presumably because he
didn't want her that way any more, she wanted someone
very special. Someone with power. She was very angry
with life at the moment and a weak man would be crushed
by her need and the force of her furious personality.
She wanted to lose herself and the violence of her need
in the violence of a man. And she thought she knew where
to go.
6

Chapter One
O
nce upon a time this had been a fantasy, but it had
been repeated so often in her mind that now it was
for real, she was confused. She was in the black shadows
of a night-shrouded wall, all but invisible, herself as black
as the night, save for her exposed white throat. Anyone
close to her would have seen the pulse throb, and skin
rising and falling rhythmically, too fast. It was the rhythm
of fear.
She moved swiftly with a curious gliding movement,
keeping so close to the wall that her leather jacket brushed
it now and again, leaving a powdery trail where the
chemocrete decomposed in the acidic air of the polluted
city. Her pin-sharp heels clicked a tattoo that matched her
rapid breathing. Her breasts strained against the material
of the silken tee shirt she wore.
Fee Cambridge was on the borderline of failing to
distinguish reality from dream and she was afraid. Not
only was she afraid, she was intensely excited. Her long
slanting eyes glittered. The ancient sodium lighting
drained them of their natural ice-green colouring. They
were mysterious slits, made more so by the mask she wore
7

that covered her upper face, concealing angled cheekbones
and a fine, sharp-chiselled nose. Her lush full rounded
voluptuous lips were revealed, very strong, luminescing
slightly in keeping with the current fashion for 'ghost'
lipstick that glowed in the dark.
The wall crumbled to an end. Before her buildings rose
like an old man's mouth full of diseased stumps. Now
the walls seemed friendly compared to the impenetrable
shadows round the buildings' rotten roots.
She shot a glance over her shoulder, hearing her jacket
creak as she did so. She could go back.
Her eyes narrowed. She thirsted, and the means to slake
her thirst were ahead, so she believed. She ran her pointed
tongue over her lips and dreamed again of a man's spunk
in her throat. She would go on. She set off past the
tenement blocks.
A light flickered and there was movement. She became
aware of several people close to her.
'You want something, sister?' a low voice asked. 'Suck
it, smoke it, snort it, fuck it - we supply it all.'
'The pirates,' she said. 'I want to find the pirates.'
A laugh answered her. 'Take the wide road, sister. You
can't miss it. It goes straight to hell. That's where you'll
find the pirates.'
'I'll see you there, brother,' she said, confidence making
her suddenly reckless.
'I'm there already. Didn't you realise?'
She kept her back straight and walked hard and fast.
Then she remembered - no one here had anywhere to go.
She forced herself to slow down, to appear less urgent as
she went on through the shadows and occasional lit
patches. She would not show fear even if she felt it. They
must think her one of themselves or they would pounce.
Other voices muttered from the dark, offering her the
various services this part of the city had in abundance.
Once or twice she was tempted. It might be raw, but
entertainment here packed a punch that nights spent in
front of a screen watching the exposed neuroses of the rich
rather lacked. It had not previously occurred to her that
8

rats have a zest for corruption. In the state she was in at
the moment, any zest was better than none.
But she had set out to reach the pirates and there might
not be a second chance. She might never get up enough
nerve again. And a craven part of her knew that she might
not survive this chance.
The highway was before her now, up on its pillars
cutting across the sky in a multi-laned trackway that kept
those from the other world, her world, from becoming
contaminated with the human rats that swarmed down
here in the dangerous shadows. Fee flicked her long black
curls back over her leather-clad shoulders with sudden
arrogance. She would make it. She could survive down
here. She wasn't as effete as most of her kind. Then she
saw the bonfires.
They flamed under the highway itself. Her heart leapt
as huge gouts of flame flared up, reddening the figures
gathered round about in the glare. Old furniture bulged
and warped in bizarre simulation of a conventional room,
but here it was in the open and grotesque. The effect was
enhanced by cables running crazily though oily puddles
and across rubble. The cables brought power to the music
equipment that boomed frenetically, the sound bouncing
between the highway supports. She was surprised to
recognise the tune and acknowledged that for the first time
she was hearing the music as it was intended, its discord-
ance and shrieking vibrations in their proper context. It
was a raw sexy scream in the night and it belonged here.
Overhead, supercharged autos screamed past, expensive
microworlds of synthetic comfort for those who could
afford them. Fee smiled and straddled her legs. The cars
always made her feel excited and it was more true down
here where they were wonderful and unreal and literally
far above anyone around. She put her hands on her hips,
exhibiting a confidence she did not quite feel. Still the pulse
throbbed in her naked throat.
They were dancing she saw. Some danced with their
bodies woven together by the beat, undulating in concert,
9

their rippling bodies entwined like hermaphrodite mol-
luscs coupling simultaneously at either end. Some danced
apart, their curious jerks and postures body language of
an ancient kind. Their message was clear to read. She
watched them and read it, licking her lips again and feeling
the heat rise in her own body. She began to sway.
Shockingly, a knife blade gleamed blood-red at her
exposed throat. She was so intent on watching the scene
before her that she had not heard him approach. She
tensed, feeling his body at her back. She could not see him,
only his hand on the knife, but she could feel him and
smell him and with an older, less-defined sense she knew
he was strong and confident.
'You got an invitation, lady?'
'I want to find the pirates.'
'And if you've found them?'
Carefully, so as not to disturb the knife, she rotated her
bottom against his groin. Fear and exultation worked a
chemistry in her body that made every nerve alive. 'What
do you think?' she whispered, giving each word its full
value.
He laughed. He kept the knife where it was and ran his
other hand down her left side, feeling her contours. Then
he slid a palm round the front of the leather skirt she wore
until he cupped the mound of her sex. She thrust forward
into his hand.
His lips were at her ear, in her hair. She felt the warmth
of his breath as her heart raced and her breast heaved.
'You're very hungry, little girl. How come? Ain't you got
no man?'
Fee raised her hand slowly and pushed the knife away
from her throat. She turned in his arms and faced him. 'I
didn't say so,' she said.
He was big, broad-shouldered over a barrel of a chest,
and his wide face was framed with curls as black and wild
as her own. He wore a single eyepatch and the ear on that
side glittered with gold rings. Her breathing went ragged
as she took in his bare chest matted with a wiry growth
of hair, criss-crossed by two great studded leather straps
10

from shoulder to hip. He smelt of leather, sweat and the
acrid night. His shoulders were blue-tattooed so that it
seemed the night itself made intricate patterns on his paler
flesh. His broad forearms were veined in hard ridges and
his smoother upper arms bulged with muscle. His leather
trousers had an oily sheen that glowed dull red in the
reflected light of the fires, and the metal studs of his chest
straps threw back ruby pinpoints of flame.
Fee trembled and put her palms flat on his strange,
rough, naked skin. She ran them slowly up him, over the
straps and on to the satin at his neck. He held his arms
open around her, allowing her this, watching her face as
she absorbed his texture.
She closed her hands lightly about his neck and at last
looked up and met his gaze. She slid her hands on up,
linked them at the back of his neck and pulled down on
him. He resisted just long enough for her to realise how
feeble her strength was compared to his, then he lowered
his head over her straining body and their mouths met.
His own sweet and fiery hot, demanding, commanding,
and leaving her in no doubt as to his power and his will,
he took hers.
Her response was total. She pressed into him and sucked
eagerly at his mouth. He must have sheathed the knife
because he caught her under her buttocks with his two
hands and hoisted her expertly. Her legs came round his
waist and still their mouths fed together as he supported
her against his chest. Her hands ran up into the hot ragged
silk of his hair and she gripped it and pulled his head back,
kissing down on his mouth as she rode his hands, making
no attempt to mask her need as she had masked her face.
Then she released him and looked into his face, trying
to read his thoughts and see her effect on him. Her breasts
heaved close to his face as though she had run a great race.
She brought a hand round and moved down the neckline
of her tee shirt so that one full rounded globe of flesh was
revealed, white in the darkness between them. She fed the
nipple into his mouth.
He bit her. She jerked with surprise and pain, arching
11

her body back, but he held her and kept his balance,
sucking hard on the offended flesh. She groaned deeply
as the nipple elongated and stretched in his mouth,
hardening with desire as it did so. Quite slowly, his thigh
muscles bulging with the strain, he lowered himself until
she was astride his bent knee, feeling its muscular strength
hard between her soft thighs, pushing up against her sex.
Her vagina convulsed with desire.
He freed her second breast and sucked it strongly. She
ground herself against his thigh and moaned slightly, deep
in her throat.
He lifted her free of his leg and laid her roughly on the
ground. He began to undo his trousers.
'Here?' she said, her voice cracking slightly.
'You Wanted to find the pirates, you said.'
Her tongue flicked. Her eyes were wide open and the
pupils dilated so that they looked black. A pinpoint of
flame was reflected in their depths. 'Yes/ she said.
'This is how the pirates do it.'
Her breathing quickened till she panted. The music
entered her blood and thudded inside her. As he lowered
his big body down over her she saw only flame and
darkness as her senses reeled. Then she saw his shaft, pale
and long and thick with its furred base in shadows. She
lifted her knees and opened them but he pushed them
aside and moved on over her till she saw the firelight
flicker even along his shaft. It was like a club encased in
a silken envelope of skin. Her nostrils flared and her eyes
blazed as she smelt the musk of him. He laid the end on
her lips and she opened her mouth in welcome.
Above her the faint stars reeled as she tasted his man-
hood. He was saltily luscious, fat and full in her mouth,
the strange flesh of his erection elastic and firm. She closed
her eyes and drank his goodness, sucking him, kissing
him, nibbling his springy muscle.
He moved, penetrating her mouth deeper. She sucked the
length of his shaft and felt the rough mat of hair it sprang
from. Her body ached with lust for him and helplessly she
arched her back as her own need made itself plain.
12

Slowly he withdrew from her mouth, bending over her
to lick between her parted lips. Now at last he pulled back
enough so he could reach under her short leather skirt.
She felt his hands hot on her thighs and shivered. He
pushed up, hard, and shoved her thighs apart.
Her sex was quite naked. The pallid flesh bulged, hair-
free, and she wore no garment to cover her nudity.
The pirate looked down for one long unwinking moment
at her ripe mound with its dark slash below, and then he
laid his rough palm over its arrogant upward thrust. The
depilated skin was satin smooth and he rotated his hand
over it, at first gently and then with increasing force. Fee
moaned and pushed up and suddenly he gripped her
plump sex-flesh and pulled.
She cried out and jerked. He felt her wetness as the interior
of her slit brushed against his wrist as she writhed in his
grip. Her white thighs were cut by the two dark lines of
her suspenders that supported her black net stockings and
in her eagerness to have him violate her inner sex, she
forced her knees down until they touched the ground.
He slid his second hand under her buttocks and lifted
her hips clear of the ground so that her vulnerable parts
were sandwiched between his palms. Her eyes were tight
shut. She felt his thumbs begin to separate her petalled
flesh. Their roughness abraded her and they were harsh
in her secret places.
Again her vagina convulsed within her.
He rubbed her labia and she throbbed in response to the
friction. Her flesh became pulpy and he felt its increasing
softness and thickness and laughed. Now one thumb
nuzzled further, uncloaking her own little shaft, and her
breath hissed as he rotated it.
His other hand parted the lobes of her bottom and she
felt his hand hard-edged against her rear.
She steadied herself on her elbows as he lifted her sex
clear of the ground and brought his face down to meet it.
She felt his head warm between her thighs and cried out
as his lips found hers and his tongue probed where his
thumbs had been.
13

His sucking was powerful and exquisite. Her flesh
bulged into his mouth and she felt herself grow hot and
wet. Her clitoris vibrated and sharp spasms of intense
feeling flared through her stomach and spread up in a
glow through her chest. She was up on her shoulders now,
her legs over his shoulders as he ate down on her. His
tongue was a hard prong inserted into her, delicious, a
forerunner of the monster to come.
Fee sobbed. She couldn't stop herself. The walls of her
cunt trembled and fluttered. A ripple grew in her, grew
more intense as she shuddered violently, and she snarled
in her frustration as her orgasm erupted. She hadn't
wanted to come yet. She thrust against his mouth and felt
his teeth as he realised what had happened. She jerked
hard against him as she pulsated inside, out of control,
driven by an engine of sex she could not master.
He sucked her climax and drank her wine. Then his
mouth released her and he lowered her on to the ground
again. She opened her eyes wide and looked up at him.
His mouth trapped hers and she tasted her own juice in
him. Her breasts were crushed against his muscular chest
and the studs embedded in his leather straps bit into her.
She longed for the imprint of his maleness to be in some
way permanent on her soft body. She wanted to be marked
by him, to bear his brand, to be his beast.
He was far from done with her. He took one of her hands
and laid his shaft in it. She savoured the breadth of it, its
knotted veiny strength, its swollen ripe end. She began to
frig him, feeling his cloak of skin withdraw over his
engorged knob. She ringed him at its base and squeezed.
At last he was manoeuvring for position. She guided his
weapon between her legs and lined up her throbbing
tumescent core. He pushed forward and entered her moist
interior in one mighty thrust.
Fee Cambridge adored the mystery of man and she
adored the ultimate expression of manhood, when the
male member was fed into her body and caused to explode
within her, both seeding and satiating her lust. Now she
gasped in both shock and triumph at having the pirate
14

inside her, clasped by her special and very experienced
muscles. She gripped him tightly and felt his response
ripple the length of his cock.
He withdrew till he was almost out of her, so nearly that
she mewed slightly in fear he would slip, and thrust in
powerfully again.
Her mouth was wide open, her head thrown back in a
soundless scream of pleasure. He drove into her and she
heard from somewhere the whine of an auto powering over
the highway behind and above her. It took megabucks to
achieve that synthesis of power and beauty roaring through
the night over the cesspool of a city, and between her legs
something like it speared into her, an organic synthesis of
violent beauty that she writhed up to meet and contain. He
speeded up and she felt herself begin to throb hotly and
pulsate against his sweet torture. She was stretched, racked
by his mighty rod and she took it greedily.
Now the bones of his groin thudded into her flesh with
each mighty stroke. She felt him swell, felt her own thick
hot lips grow pasty as she came again to climax. Her chest
heaved. She gripped him inside and at last he cried out,
his shaft rippled and jerked and bucked within her and
the hot liquid jetted from him to her. She milked him in
her frenzy, her orgasm upon her as he thrust his final
strokes. Her inside burned, the fire reaching up to glow
through her whole body. Then the fit was past. She began
to relax. The heat softened and eased and, like a healing
tide, satiation flowed over her.
She saw the stars again, faint above the city lights. Twin
shafts cut the night as cars hurtled by overhead.
He withdrew from her carefully and sat back. He
fumbled in a pocket and brought out a torch. He held the
light steady on her face so that her dilated pupils shrank
to pinpricks and the pale colour of her eyes could be seen
within her mask.
'Who are you?' he asked. There was a sheen of sweat
over his face.
She felt glutted and wild, power running in her at her
triumph. 'This,' she whispered.
15

He sat back and looked at her. Her long legs sprawled
apart so that he could see her hot scarlet slit foaming with
love juice under the pale mound at the base of her belly.
It was strange to him that she had no crest of hair there
and he reached out and felt again the smooth skin where
there should have been a jungly growth to match his own.
Her full breasts lolled shamelessly free from her tee shirt,
and round her head black curls tumbled wantonly. Her
mouth was bruised and hot from passion. Her upper face
was still masked.
'Why did you seek us?'
'I want to join you. I want to be a pirate.'
His laugh was short and brutal. 'Where've you been,
lady? Pirates are men. We have our women but they ain't
pirates/
'I will be a pirate/ Fee hissed. Her desire for self-abase-
ment was temporarily relieved and she was accustomed
to men who were malleable to her will after sex. 'If you
won't let me, I'll do it alone.'
Now his laugh was full-throated. 'Just like that?' He was
genuinely amused.
She was getting angry. 'I'm as good as you.'
'In some ways, maybe. Not in others, little girl.'
'I'm as clever.'
'It takes more than that.'
'Give me a chance/ she wheedled in a silken voice.
He heard it and grinned inside himself. Only the rich
whined quite in that way when their will was thwarted.
'No.'
'Frightened?'
In the silence that followed her lightly-flung challenge,
Fee had time to feel the fear she accused him of. She
reminded herself nervously that she did not understand
these people. They were not predictable in her terms,
obeying either a different set of rules or no rules at all.
Her heart started to pound.
He adjusted his trousers and then lay beside her in the
dirt, raised on one elbow so that his face was close to hers,
above it.
16

'You're toothsome/ he murmured. 'You have a wild set
of muscles to wrap my prick in. And I like the touch of
mystery, lady. I like the mask. Neat. But if you ever accuse
me of being frightened again, I'll peg you out on the
highway up there in starsville and when the autos have
smashed your pretty bones, the crows will pick them clean.
Right?'
Her flesh cringed with fear. Almost she agreed and
prepared to beg his pardon. She believed him utterly. But
something crept up her spine, some damnable reckless
urge to go all out and not count the cost.
'Fuck you,' she said.
He hit her across the face and she laughed. His mouth
met hers again and they kissed crazily, almost biting one
another in their ferocity. He fell back away from her and
she followed him round, coming on top of him and kissing
him hungrily. Now she was astride him, tugging at his
trousers to free his raising sex.
He was hard already. She lifted herself with a yell and
dropped down on to him, taking his rigid muscle into her
spongy-wet inner place.
She screamed.
17

Chapter Two
F
ee felt as though the top of her head was coming off.
Her whole scalp rose up and she thought her hair was
being torn out by the roots. She could feel the pirate's
erection in her, just, but she had reared up to ease the
pressure on her head. The man between her legs began to
shake and she opened streaming eyes to peer down and
saw he was laughing.
Someone above her was pulling her off his sex by
yanking her hair out. Now they kicked her hard in the
back and the pirate laughed harder, his penis shrinking
within her. He made no move to help.
'He's mine,' hissed a furious voice. 'Get the hell out of
here and off his cock or I'll blind you, you thieving bitch.'
Fee gave way to the pressure and staggered to her feet.
She turned and blindly swiped at her aggressor. The man
on the ground grabbed her ankle and mercifully her hair
was released. The woman who had attacked her danced
backwards out of reach. She had bright white hair sticking
out all around her head and a full-lipped petulant face
suffused with rage.
'You cow,' roared Fee. 'How dare you!'
18

Lazily the pirate hauled himself to his feet, keeping
a hold on Fee. He worked his trousers back up and
fastened them thoughtfully with one hand. The two
women glared at each other. The pirate now held
Fee's hands by the wrists. Her skirt was still caught up,
revealing her bald sex, and suddenly the other woman
kicked at her.
Now the pirate did pull her back so that she was grazed
by the flying shoe, but no worse.
'Is it a fight?' he asked. He didn't sound very concerned.
'Send the virus back where she came from,' hissed the
newcomer. 'I'm enough for you.'
'Enough for any man,' agreed the pirate cordially. 'But
I was enjoying myself and you put a stop to it.'
'If she wants you, she'll have to fight for you.'
'What?' said Fee. Yet she thought she understood.
'You don't know much about our ways, do you?' said
the pirate. 'She has the rights of it. She fought for me once
and won. Now she has the right to stop me playing
elsewhere if she doesn't approve.' He shook Fee slightly.
'I don't think she likes you, lady in a mask.'
Fee found her voice. 'You mean, if I want your body, I
have to fight this hellcat.'
'And win,' he said amiably.
'You get no say in it?'
'Well, it's no use fighting for me if I don't want you,' he
said apologetically. 'A woman can't force me to take her.
And if she attacks my woman anyway, I can see her off
myself if I don't want my preferred goods damaged. So
you see, I have some choice in the matter.' His amusement
was evident.
'You aren't serious?' The newcomer radiated fury. 'You
can only just have met her. I'll tear her pretty skin if you
want, but I don't see that she can mean much to you. Run
her along, Will. I'll amuse you tonight.'
'Well?' said Will.
It was a moment before Fee realised he spoke to her.
You would let me fight for you?' she said. These people
Were animals.
19

'It was you who wanted to be a pirate/ explained Will
gently.
'And if I win?'
'I am your territory.'
He let go of her at last and stood back. A crowd had
drifted over during the altercation and people stood
around, curious to see what would happen. Fiona could
smell the tension aroused in them by the thought of a fight.
She was Fiona Cambridge. Was she out of her mind? The
thought of tamely turning tail and walking out of the
situation was intolerable to her.
Her eyes narrowed as she looked the pirate over. He was
superb. He was the fulfilment of her wildest dreams. She
looked at his chosen mate.
The girl was smaller and younger than herself, urban
thin but vivid in her way, smouldering as she was with
anger. Fiona could imagine her smouldering with passion,
and suddenly jealousy lanced her at the thought of Will
being pleasured by that thin agile body.
'Your name?' she said, speaking directly for the first time.
The roots of her hair still tingled.
'Mammet.'
'Is the fight now?'
The crowd hissed and stirred and Fee sensed a move-
ment from Will. The blood sang in her. So he wanted her
to win, did he? Maybe he was tired of his vicious little
creature, maybe she had struck some chord in him herself.
Whatever, she was sure that he did things to serve his own
ends and not hers or Mammet's.
She remembered again his thick strong stalk of sex. There
were a thousand things she wanted from his body. And
only one way to get them, it seemed.
'Now/ said Will.
They moved nearer to the fires to get light from them.
Some cleared the ground of rubble and stones. The crowd
grew and swelled, murmuring with delight. Two women
came to Fee and Will faded.
'Take off your clothes/ they told her.
'All of them? In front of the crowd?'
20

'Yes. You can keep drawers on but it isn't advisable.
Mammet will tear them from you, anyway.'
Fee reflected that she wore no drawers anyway and
began to strip.
The crowd was chanting now, clapping and whistling
as the two women bared themselves for the fight.
'I lay a condition,' Fiona called suddenly in strong voice.
'No conditions,' shouted Mammet, 'save we fight with
our bodies only, no other weapons.'
'My mask remains.'
'Let it be,' said Will and then Fee saw him, facing them,
sitting at peace over what was to happen. She stripped
proudly and walked over across the empty arena to stand
before him.
She had reason to be arrogant. Her body was long and
tall, slim at the waist but flaring at hip and bosom, graceful,
feminine and strong. She straddled her legs and put her
hands on her hips, no longer concerned by the hot eyes
on her nakedness. Her two women helpers tied back her
hair for her.
'Are you worth this, pirate?' she asked for all to hear.
'That is your decision.' His eyes raked her body insol-
ently. She wanted to kiss the hair on his chest and run her
fingers over his tattoos. Her desire for him weakened her
and she tossed it aside.
'I'll fight your little thing to teach her a lesson, so that
she knows she must put no hand on me and I walk where
I please with no need for her permission. I'll see if I want
you afterwards.' She shrugged a shoulder.
The crowd roared with delight. It occurred to Fee
suddenly that though there were men clustered around
Will dressed much as he was, in black leather strapping,
some with chains across their chests, and tight breeks that
ended just below their knees, he dominated them in size
and force of personality. Was he their leader? That would
add a dimension to this crazy contest and sharpen the
crowd's appreciation of what hung in the balance. More-
over, it would explain their ecstatic reception of her
rudeness to him. She did not feel dislike for him in the
21

crowd; only awe and an acknowledgement of supremacy.
Mammet came forward. Her white hair was licked back
close against her narrow skull. She had small, pointed,
black-tipped breasts, and a pale fuzz in her groin. Now
she saw Fiona's naked mound and she stared.
'What happened to you, sister?' she jeered in insult.
'Ringworm?'
Fiona did not know what ringworm was, but she got the
point of the jibe. She clubbed her hand and lashed out.
Mammet danced backwards, her eyes narrowed and her
little body taut. Fiona moved straight in with her heavy
breasts swinging, feinted with her hand and kicked Mam-
met on the knee.
Her foot hurt astonishingly but she had the satisfaction
of seeing Mammet drop to ease the hurt joint. She tried to
follow the blow with another but Mammet punched her
on her bald mound. Fiona hit the girl in the face and
Mammet launched herself up and fastened small yellow
teeth into Fiona's right breast.
Fee never felt the pain. It was disease she feared, down
here in the filthy city. She got Mammet by the hair and
lifted the girl clear off the ground, still fastened to her
breast like a ferret. Mammet started to punch her body but
Fee hit her in the face until her teeth released her skin. Fee
rattled her but the ferocity of the girl's attack on her
brought them both down.
They rolled together on the hard dry ground with the
crowd roaring all around, biting and scratching at each
other. Fiona gasped as suddenly they were deluged by
something warm and slimy and wet.
A bucket of something had been emptied over them. It
was hard to keep a hold of each other as their hands
slithered helplessly.
Mammet seemed fascinated by Fiona's sex. She kept
going for it, allowing Fee to hit and punch her body. Once
or twice the girl landed a blow on Fee's vulva, but her own
man's spunk was ointment on what she sought to assault.
Fiona's superior height and weight began to tell. She was
better fed, stronger and fitter than the younger girl. Health
22

and strength had always been a prerogative of the rich. Her
will to win was as strong as her body and at last she got
astride Mammet and pinned her to the ground.
The girl writhed between her legs and Fiona's eyes began
to glitter. Her blood ran too strong for her to feel much
pain in the lust of battle, but the thin body trapped below
hers was arousing other instincts. She ignored the thrashing
arms and pinned Mammet by the throat. Her big breasts
swung and their tips brushed the girl's own little points.
Her breath heaved and her heart pounded but she was
filled with the exultation of victory. It was right she should
win. She was the superior animal.
Both women were shiny with whatever had been flung
over them. Firelight ran red up and down their gleaming
bodies which were beginning to darken here and there
with bruising.
A young man stood up. He was slender compared to the
older men, and smoother skinned, but he was handsome
and he had a patrician turn to his lip.
'I will take Mammet, if she concedes Captain Will to the
new woman.'
A sigh of regret ran through the assembly. They knew
their fun was over.
Fiona waited for Mammet's reply. Her sex was bruised
by Will's fierce assault and by Mammet's bony fist. The
girl's ribs pressing up into it were not unpleasant.
'I'd fight for you, any day,' called a husky voice from
the crowd and they roared with laughter. Mammet veiled
her eyes and bared her teeth.
'You have won,' she said bitterly.
'You haven't done so badly,' muttered Fiona and some-
thing close to a grin flitted across Mammet's face. Coming
back to her normal senses, Fee was appalled to see the
grazing she had inflicted on Mammet's cheekbone.
You won't hold Will,' hissed Mammet. 'He is wild and
he likes them young. You only win because he wants it.
Now get off me.'
Fiona stood up and was surprised to find that she was
shaky and felt sore in quite a few places. She ignored Will
23

and went over to her clothes, pulling them on and
shrouding her long full magnolia-pale body from the
greedy eyes around her. She had her back to the arena
and was startled when an arm came suddenly round her
neck and jerked her back.
'Now you have won, my pretty,' said Will, 'you must
claim your reward.'
'My reward?' Fiona felt dull and old and tired.
Will spun her round. 'I will explain, since you are so
ignorant of our ways.' He kept his voice very low and
intimate, but his tone was hard. 'A man cannot just make
trouble between the women and cause them to fight. He
must demonstrate he is worth fighting for.' His voice had
become silken and he waited for Fiona to catch at his
meaning.
'Worth it? How?' she said.
'What have you been fighting for?'
'Your body?' she felt stupid and out of her depth.
His hands came up and pulled the pins out of her hair
so that it fell down about her shoulders.
'If I don't prove myself worthy, no other woman will
ever challenge you for me. And when you prefer another
man -'
She tried to pull away. 'No,' she mumbled.
'It is our way,' he insisted.
She looked up at him. 'You want this?'
'You and 1/ he murmured so softly that no one else,
however close, could have heard, 'know where you are
from. But these about us do not. They would tear you to
pieces if they knew. They do not tolerate games being
played in their country, and here you will find there are
no police to protect you, no patrols to keep you safe.'
'You know where I am from?'
'Aye, and why,' said Will as his head dropped over hers
and his mouth found her lips.
She had forgotten already the fiery taste of him and to
find that there was a mind within that powerful rugged
scarred body aroused her on a different level than the
crude scream for sex she had come here to satsify.
24

'I am going to fuck you now/ he murmured.
Her blood started to pound. 'I don't want to/ she said.
'Not in front of these people.'
'Then you forfeit the fight. I will give you ten minutes
to start running; then I will tell them where you are from.
I can smell it in your hair, rich bitch/ he said. He shook
slightly with sudden laughter. 'You'll fight, you vicious
cow, because you can't bear to lose. But you are too
squeamish to show that pretty box of yours full to the eyes
that have already feasted on your nakedness.'
'Damn you/ she said.
'I am damned already. You can do nothing to me.'
'Or for you. So why do you want me?'
'I didn't say that. I didn't say you could do nothing for
me. And, by God, you will, if I want you to.'
He split her tee shirt open and laid his tongue on the
sore place where Mammet had bitten her. Then he led her
back into the arena. He turned her round and pushed her
down on her face. Before she could recover he had heaved
her skirt up over her hips and he pinned her with her rear
stuck up before him. She felt his groin press up against
the cheeks of her arse and at last the flame of lust shot
through her.
These people lived by rules she had never heard of. They
lived like men and women might have lived in the Stone
Age. But she, Fiona Cambridge, had come amongst them
and won out, beaten them at their own game, and now
she had the best of it. With her face pressed in the dust
she felt herself impaled on his clublike prick. He took her
quickly, without sophistication, asserting his right to sat-
Jate his body on hers and her right to have a man who
could satisfy her. She had fought for him and won and he
had to prove in public that he was worth fighting for. The
crowd roared cheerfully. They were having a good eve-
rung's entertainment.
Her outer sex beat sorely under Will's assault, but it was
pleasurable pain. For a very long time this place between
her legs had nagged her and destroyed her peace of mind.
To be satisfied, even savagely satisfied, was more than
25

enough, was a hundred times welcomed. A joy was
unleased in her and Fiona felt herself move incredibly to
climax.
Will came in her. His spunk flowed hot and thick. There
was no doubting his virility and manhood. He withdrew
and Fiona heard the noise of the crowd beat against her
ears. She jerked herself round, pushed the surprised Will
back, and remounted his prick before it had time to shrink.
Now he was on his back as he had been when Mammet
interrupted them. Fiona rode hard on his member, keeping
it stiff even though he had climaxed. Her own orgasm
came as splintered pain and pleasure and she opened her
mouth wide and yelled exultantly into the night.
Will caught her, kissed her mouth, pulled free of her and
pulled her skirt down. He fastened his breeks and stood
up, half-hauling Fiona up with him. Her legs went crazily
askew, her knees touching, and he supported her. He led
her over to the seat from which he had watched the fight
and sat her down beside him.
'Now,' he said smoothly, 'it is the turn of Mammet and
Jon.'
Fee hardly saw the two slender bodies weaving the
age-old pattern of lust and satiation in the dirt before her.
Her eyes hurt and she was very tired. Will's arm was
round her and it felt very good.
'Your name/ he said, watching the pair before him with
a slight frown on his face.
'They call you Will.'
'They call me Captain Kid.'
'That's a hell of a mouthful.'
'Will.'
'Billy the Kid. Wasn't he a cowboy?' Her words were
crazy, like her thoughts. Was all this really happening or
would she wake up safely in bed? Safe. And bored.
'Captain William Kid was a pirate when they used shipS'
lady. Three hundred and fifty years ago. Your name,
asked.'
She hesitated a moment. 'Skelton.'
'Skelton?'
26

'Yes.'
'You aim to hang around?'
He was fast, she acknowledged. He was no slouch in the
mental sphere.
'Not all the time.'
There was silence between them. He did not ask her
where she might go when she was not here with him.
'I find you here?' she asked eventually.
'Sometimes.'
She tilted her head and looked to where the bonfires
burned and the couples had danced or slunk about the
shadows.
'Do you live here?' she asked curiously.
He took his time answering. 'That's a hell of a question,'
he said eventually. 'Don't let anyone else hear you ask it.
They might ask where you live, that you don't already
know.'
He turned his head and looked at her coldly. His black
eyepatch was a menacing reminder that he was of another
world and as yet untamed.
'You are a prince among men,' she said suddenly, not
having meant to reward or compliment him. The words
came out of her hunger and his appeasement of it. 'Captain
William Kid, it is a pleasure to be fucked by you.' She
meant it. She heard her own intensity, her own sincerity.
It was real.
His hand slid up her skirt and he gripped her wet
woman's place. 'You move good/ he breathed. 'I could do
this again.'
The crowd dispersed, Mammet and Jon had done and
were now away, arm in arm, to some place of their own.
1 he fires burned low and she and Will were almost alone
m, the shadows.
I have to go/ she said, struggling to keep the uncertainty
°ut of her voice. He could stop her by force if he chose.
et he did no such thing. She stood up, towering
" denly above him, for he was still sitting and her ankle
aw S three-inch heels. She turned and walked rapidly
27

It was very late, deep in the night. The shadows muttered
evilly as she passed and she caught the murmur of crazy
talk, the whinny of sick laughter. Now she carried a small
knife in her hand in case something threatened her. She
needed to get home, to be safe. Her thighs trembled from
her sexual gluttony and her mind reeled with what had
taken place, and with her new knowledge of herself, of
what she could do, and what she could be if the need arose.
Will was a man indeed, built to satiate the most demand-
ing of women. Somehow, she had to find her way back
down here, find him again and claim her rights.
Maybe they were all like him, down here in garbage-
land.
She stumbled in her tiredness, wet-thighed and sticky,
but for all her bruises and sore places, there was a smile
on her face.
It had been quite a night.
28

Chapter Three
S
unlight poured through curving glass domes and
bathed the man at the kitchen table in a yellow
radiance. He wore a midnight-blue overshirt belted at the
waist over blue slacks that ended just below the knee. The
open neck of the shirt showed the bronzed column of
throat which supported a handsome head with a firm,
clean-shaven jaw. He had bright intelligent blue eyes.
Rollo Cambridge was good looking and he knew it.
'Fee,' he yelled. He heard his wife move through the
apartment and wondered why she was late for breakfast.
He was in conference in ten minutes and they hadn't
aligned their schedules for the day yet. Bland music filled
the room from all around. A light, electronic voice warbled
about its pussy love, so sweet and soft and cuddlesome.
'Fee,' he called again, and looked up irritably as she came
at last into the sundrenched room, moving sluggishly,
evidently still half asleep.
His eyes widened in astonishment. He was accustomed
to seeing her crisply and fashionably dressed at this hour.
Now she was buck naked.
His eyes were drawn down the length of her body
29

despite his annoyance with her. Her hair was tied up, for
she had just come from the shower, and her exotic face
was clean of make-up. Green eyes slanted above promi-
nent cheekbones. Her full mouth quivered as she took in
his gaze. Her long slender neck led his eyes to sloping
creamy shoulders and full heavy breasts tipped dark ruby
with large nipples. Her warm white body narrowed at a
high waist and then flared with arrogant womanliness
over rich and promising hips. Before he took in the long
pale downslope of her thighs, he saw the blunt pouting
nakedness of her hairless mound, the fold within it inviting
his eyes, and any other part of him that might care to
follow, to enter and sample the dark delights within.
She was a tall woman with much of her height in her
long legs, legs made, it seemed, to wrap round a man as
he penetrated her mysteries.
She leant against the kitchen doorframe and lifted an
arm to scratch lazily behind one ear. He saw the small
tangle of damp hair in her armpit.
'Fiona,' he said uncertainly.
'Come back to bed, Rollo.' Her voice was husky. The
rigours of the night filled her with sexual heat. Her body
abrasions were skilfully masked and healing rapidly with
spray-on antiseptic newskin. It had an anaesthetic effect
but even so she felt sore and ached in various places. Yet
the small unfamiliar pains served only to excite her. She
looked at her handsome husband and remembered what
was masked by his clothing and she longed for it inside
her, where the pirate had raided her the previous night.
She had enough for both men, and more.
'I've got a conference in seven minutes, Fee.'
'Cancel. Tell 'em you're sick. Let's bodysynch, Rollo.'
'What's the matter with you? Have you been taking
pills?'
She crossed the room, her breasts swaying under their
own weight as she did so. She stood by him and lifted an
arm to release her black tumble of hair. There was a time
when the sight of the tender flesh of her underarm had
driven him wild, though it was hard to believe that now.
30

She put a hand under one breast and lifted its weight till
the nipple almost brushed his face.
'Suck me, baby,' she whispered.
He recoiled as if disgusted. Her eyes narrowed and
became glittery. All of a sudden she looked dangerous,
like a roused cat. As if in response a tiger walked past the
glass walls of the kitchen through the luxuriant riot of
vegetation beyond their apartment walls. Its orange stripy
tail twitched as it saw the humans, so close yet beyond its
feline reach. The machine-croon from the radio seeped
round the room in saccharine whorls of sound.
'Put some clothes on, for Heaven's sake.' Rollo's eyes
flicked to the vidicom with its button in the screen-on
position. It only needed to buzz with Fiona in this wild
mood for her to be displayed to less indifferent predators.
He saw her against the jungle that surrounded their
home and suddenly her pale body excited him after all.
He checked his watch.
'Honey, my mind's on this conference. I can't switch
tracks. We couldn't replay this scene in a few hours, huh?'
Fiona sat on a stool and lifted her heels to rest her feet
on a rung between its legs. She let her knees fall apart and
Rollo saw a moist gleam at the apex of her legs. He
swallowed.
'I don't think so, darling,' she drawled. 'I can't tell if I'll
want it then.'
He rose to his feet and flicked food crumbs from his
clothes. 'I'll make you want it,' he promised. He swigged
down the last of his coffee. 'Wish me luck, baby. This is
the big one.'
'Hang in there even if it gets tough,' she said ambigu-
ously.
Rollo didn't have the time to analyse this so he took it
at face value. 'You're gorgeous, sweetheart. See you later.'
Then he was gone. Fee Cambridge grinned to herself and
touched her puss. It was sore as hell. The thumping it had
taken during the night before had bruised it so that she
could feel it all the time. It gave her a pleasurable sexual
tension and it felt so puffed that she had lain before her
31

mirror with her legs splayed wide that morning to examine
if it was swollen beyond its normal voluptuous convol-
utions. She had fingered it languorously, half-pinching its
fatty plumpness, trying to remember how it normally felt.
She loved the look of her rose-fleshed vulva, gloried in its
bareness, and liked to stroke her own flesh in self-adora-
tion.
She liked Rollo to watch her do it, only he didn't seem
interested any more.
She stood up and went over to the laminated glass walls
of the kitchen and leaned on their coolness for a moment,
staring at the man-planted jungle outside. The tiger was
gone, a sinuous patch of colour that blended with the
barred sunlight spilling down through the canopy. Para-
keets shrieked in the trees and made a flash of brilliant
colour amongst the heavy green lushness. A tiny orange
monkey swung chittering through the trees.
Her house was like an igloo, a deluxe pleasure dome of
technologically-advanced comfort attached by tunnels to
walkways and other house domes, none too close, all
equally sophisticated, all surrounded by rioting vegetation
where man had learnt at last to replace what he had
destroyed down the wanton ages since he first wielded an
axe. The cities decayed but the world zoo advanced,
inhabited by sealed units of humans who could see nature
but not touch it. It was forbidden to enter the jungle, of
which more was planted every year.
As to who was in the cage looking out and who outside
looking in, that was a moot point. The tiger had the
answer, if anyone cared to ask.
Fee laughed and made her way over to the vidicom.
Instead of turning the screen off, she positioned herself so
that most of her nakedness was out of its viewer. She
dialled Diana.
The big blonde answered quickly.
'Hi, there/ she said. 'What can I do for you? Oh, Fee.
How's tricks, baby? Still as bored?'
'The short answer is no. Can I come over for breakfast
Diana?'
32

'Are you wearing anything, lady?'
'Not a damn thing.'
'Is that how you've been getting your kicks? Phoning
strangers and giving them an eyeful? Fiona, that's low-
class stuff.'
Diana chided her friend gently but with real curiosity.
All of them fantasised about doing just that at some time
or another, but no one ever admitted to giving way to
temptation.
'I'll put something on before I come over,' Fee promised.
'Don't mind me. I'm all for the body beautiful. The
patrols might be amazed though. Make their day, I should
think.'
'I'll see you in twenty minutes,' said Fee. She wasn't
reduced to flashing the guards that patrolled the Zoo. Yet.
In her bedroom she buzzed her maid, Janine. Within a
minute or two the young girl came to see what her mistress
wanted.
'I need to get dressed, Janine. And my hair needs fixing.'
Janine's eyes flickered over Fiona's superb body. Fiona
had never covered her nakedness before her. 'What would
you like?' she asked.
'The mandarin, I think.'
Janine fetched the heavy stiffly-embroidered garment
with the stand-up collar and held it for Fiona's final
decision. It was black with ice-green dragons appliqueed
on to its sumptuous glossy surface. The dragons were the
precise colour of Fiona's eyes.
'Yes,' she said with pleasure. It was a beautiful dress.
'The apricot lingerie, ma'am?'
'No underwear.'
'None?' Janine was startled and she blushed slightly. She
had a waist-length frizz of wheat-pale hair that swung in
a heavy curtain as she moved. She did not have to wear
a uniform, as some private maids did, and so was in a
black one-piece, broadly belted at her waist, that clung to
her adolescent contours. She was just sixteen, the legal
minimum age for a maid. Her large round eyes were
33

cornflower blue, and with her peachy complexion she had
an innocent vulnerable air.
She held up the dress but Fiona said: 'Perfume first,
Janine.'
The maid returned the dress carefully to its hanger and
fetched the atomiser that her mistress indicated. Fiona
raised her arms and held up her hair, closing her eyes.
Janine walked gently round her naked mistress lightly
clothing the pearl skin with a fine spray. Fiona felt the
momentary coolness at breast, buttock and thigh. Some of
her grazes faintly stung. There was something insolent in
her voluptuous enjoyment of the service and Janine low-
ered her eyes from the revealing curves. Always they
turned to the hairless pudendum, to her secret shame.
Fiona's bare bulge of sex fascinated her.
Fiona smiled.
Now Janine held the chosen garment and Fiona
shrugged into it. Janine knelt before her to attach the little
hooks one by one. The dress was created for luxury, not
practicality. When Janine reached Fiona's breasts, where
the material strained to take their pliant fullness, Fiona
reached in herself and settled them against the cold
material making Janine abandon her fastening so that the
deep plunge was revealed below her throat.
'My hair,' she said, going to sit at her dressing table.
Whilst the girl brushed her hair and then began skilfully
to twist it into a fashionable knot, Fiona felt her skin
through the dress.
Last night she had revelled in mud and slime. She was
never filthy. Her house was aseptically clean, she did no
dirty work and she bathed frequently, more than once a
day, and had done so for as long as she could remember.
To feel dirt was a revelation. To see her skin smeared,
to feel her hair grubby and dank with whatever had been
thrown over herself and Mammet, to taste something stale
and sour was almost beyond experience. Yet last night she
had rolled in the gutter with a vulgar little hellion,
scratching and biting for the sake of a man's cock.
She had rutted on the ground like a dog. She had allowed
34

a stranger at her femininity and revelled in his caresses
and his brutality. She had performed the sexual act
publicly within a crowd like a paid whore at a sex party,
in some crude celebration of bizarre customs native to the
squalor of the city. There, there was no shame, no modesty,
no privacy, no self-control.
Fiona filled her lungs and felt her breasts strain within
the dress. Rollo had rejected her body. Not once, but over
and over again, including this morning. Well, it was her
body and she owed no fealty to him, husband though he
was, if he did not make use of what was his. If Rollo
would not answer her need, she would find ones who
did.
Till now, she had been faithful to him in her fashion. She
had made night-time excursions and found men's lively
members, but she had kept her own body inviolate,
pleasing herself only in so far as she pleased some stranger
in the night with her eager, experienced mouth and hands.
She had confined betrayal to tasting the climax of others
and using the memory to masturbate herself to orgasm
when alone.
Last night marked something new, a new departure. She
had to have manflesh within her and the feeling of
self-disgust engendered by Rollo's rejection had sent her
to the sewers of society.
The thing was, she had enjoyed it. She laughed aloud
and Janine jumped nervously.
'That's all,' said Fee crisply. 'I won't want you again
before, say, four this afternoon. If you see the master, tell
him I've gone over to Diana's for breakfast and we might
take in a massage or something. I really don't know. He'll
be in conference for hours, I expect.'
She leaned forward to put a flick of make-up on her face.
The bare look was currently fashionable. Nevertheless, she
put drops in each eye that caused her pupils to swell and
she enhanced the shape of her lips. No ghost make-up.
That was for night-time only.
'What shoes, ma'am?'
'The black sandals.'
35

Janine knelt to slip Fiona's silk-clad foot into each
high-heeled shoe and do up the little gold buckle that held
them in place. Fiona looked down on her wheaten head
and wondered if Rollo ever synched with the girl. Before
last night she would have sacked Janine and raged at Rollo
if such a thing were true, but now she wondered if she
wouldn't be relieved to know that Rollo still had that much
libido in him. Janine was really very pretty in a rather
wholesome way.
Fiona stood and Janine moved away and surveyed her
mistress. 'You look lovely, ma'am,' she said with sincerity.
Fiona knew it was true. She couldn't help it. She was
born beautiful and had the money and the time to make
the most of it.
'Do you ever fuck my husband?' she asked casually.
Janine went white with shock at both the word used and
its meaning. Then she coloured to a deep rich beetroot red.
'Oh, ma'am,' she said hoarsely.
'He's a good-looking guy.'
'But, I mean,' the girl struggled pitifully.
'Silly child,' said Fiona. 'If it is happening, I know who
will have made the first move.'
'No, I wouldn't, please.'
'And if you are, the worst I might do is pay you a packet,
give you a decent reference and send you on your way. It
wouldn't be your fault, chick. I know that. Rollo can come
on like a moonrocket if he wants to synch flesh and he
doesn't like to be thwarted.' He used to come on like a
moonrocket, she added sourly in her mind. He hasn't for
some time to my knowledge.
'I mean I'm not, we don't, he doesn't. . .'
'He doesn't much with me, either,' said Fiona calmly. 'I
just wondered whether it's because he's on-line elsewhere
or because he just doesn't want to switch it on any more.'
Janine was getting over her shock. 'But he looks so sexy,'
she blurted.
Fiona spared a moment to think of the impact of Rollo's
looks and personality and wealth on an underling like little
Janine.
36

'Yes, he does,' she answered the girl. 'It just goes to show
how looks deceive.'
Janine began to go red again but curiosity was getting
the upper hand. Fiona had never unbent in this way to
her before.
'Can't you, er, give him something? Pep him up, I mean,'
she ventured.
'Sure. But it's an admission of failure, don't you think?
Dull too. I feel I'm entitled to a little fun, if I'm to wake
him up. It's my chemistry I want to do the business, not
something bought through a screen-ad.'
Fiona was speaking almost idly, enjoying shocking
Janine and enjoying using her as a reflector of Rollo's
undoubted charisma. Yet as they left her lips, her words
began to take a shape, take a life of their own. An idea
like a cold ripple began to cast a vague shadow across the
warm current of her mind.
'I see that,' said Janine.
'Have you got a boyfriend, honey? You don't have to
answer. I pay you to maid me, not so that I can pry into
your personal life. But all of a sudden I want to know.'
Janine blushed furiously again. 'No, ma'am. I'm shy with
men, really. A bit frightened, too.'
'What are you telling me, child? Surely you aren't still a
virgin.'
'Yes, I am. And it's a terrible nuisance.' Janine was in
deadly earnest so Fiona resisted the impulse to laugh.
'A nuisance! You make me feel old-fashioned. I thought
it was supposed to be precious. I admit it's rather a long
time ago for my own part, but I am sure that that was
how the argument went. One tends to forget these things.'
'I bet you do remember. I bet you wanted to be rid of it
as fast as you were able. Of course I want to enjoy men.
But I know I'm going to be hopeless and I'm shy and I'm
frightened I will be hurt and they'll laugh at me. It doesn't
matter how much you are told, you just don't know what
it will be like.'
Fiona laughed. 'OK, OK, I'll cut the flummery. I unloaded
my virginity as soon as I was able. He was a lifeguard on
37

a surf-beach and we did it between the combers. And I bet
he did the trick with a dozen others like me that summer.
There was nothing that guy didn't know about tight little
virgins and we just about stood in line to let him oil our
locks. They called him Slim Dick and I didn't get the joke
till about a year later. Now there was a man who knew
how to resource himself/ Fiona added, suddenly caught up
in her own memories. 'A less confident man might have
had himself implanted so he could fill up with a fat one,
but that guy stuck to small containers and got his thrills
with what nature gave him.'
She remembered who she was speaking to and looked at
Janine. The girl was wide-eyed with a maggot of curiosity
in her general embarrassment.
'Look, honey, I've got to go. Diana's expecting me.
Maybe I'll think about your problem, hey? You never
know, I might come up with something.'
Janine flamed a deep scarlet. 'You wouldn't, you
wouldn't tell Mr Cambridge, would you? I don't think I
could bear that.'
'Of course not/ said Fiona smoothly.
So that was how the land lay. It was hardly surprising,
Rollo being what he was (or appeared to be) and this little
inadequate child trembling on the threshold of sexuality.
The shame of it was, she didn't even realise what she had
revealed.
Fiona smiled within herself. Surely some good would
come of all this new information. Some good to herself,
that is. She was beyond thinking about what others
needed. Her own needs gnawed too deep.
'I appreciate your honesty and I'll respect your con-
fidence, never fear. I'll see you later, dear. Goodbye.'
Fee was thoughtful as she rode the moving floors under-
ground to Diana's. They lived in what was officially named
the Jungle, but common usage had defeated officialdom
and now everyone knew it as the Zoo. Iconoclasts liked the
near-consonance between Zoodom and boredom. But part
of living in it was that you could not walk around outside
38

or go out for any reason whatever. It was no nature park
outside, just nature pure and simple. People stayed in house
bubbles or public domes and moved between them through
tunnels filled with soft music and patrols. These guards
served a double purpose. They protected Zoo-dwellers
from the irritations of the common ruck who could not
afford such luxurious living and had no place among the
richest in the land. And they prevented the Zoo-dwellers
from breaking out into the jungle. The natural jungle, that
was. What Fiona had done down in the city was in no way
forbidden. But if it were known, she would arouse disgust
among her kind and lose caste. The whole point about the
Zoo was that you might live alongside tigers, but you did
not contaminate yourself with the squalor of human failure.
Rolling in the mud was no social asset. Perhaps that was
why Fiona had enjoyed it so much.
Diana's apartment was ten minutes away, a near neigh-
bour by Zoo standards. The big Scandinavian let Fiona in
and then went through to make coffee.
'I've eaten, slugabed. What can I get you?'
'Crispbread will be fine.'
'Don't tell me Rollo did the business this morning. You
look distinctly hung over.'
'No such luck. I took myself mother-naked into the
kitchen and offered him a mammary but he recoiled in
disgust.'
Diana looked sharply at her friend. 'You'll be meditating
revenge.'
'You bet, sister.'
Diana wore tight pink shorts over harlequin tights. Her
strong bosom was strapped firmly by a leather waistcoat
buttoned tightly across it. What dazzled the eye, however,
was not the leathery sheen of her formidable torso, nor the
way the pink of her shorts strained across her shapely
pelvis, but the holes cut in the leather of her waistcoat so
that her big rosy nipples projected through and were on
plain view. A gold chain attached to a little gold ring
piercing each perfect female member, connected them, tip
to tip.
39

'Love the gear/ said Fiona.
'Not too shocking?'
'Only the first time. I've seen others, though yours is very
nice. I've been thinking about getting my own nipples
pierced but I haven't got around to it. I love the jewellery.'
'You want to shop today?'
'I feel like a massage/
Diana laughed. 'Ordinary or intimate?'
'Intimate, friend of mine. Willing to come along?'
'You bet. Hey, look at this.' Diana lifted her arms and
linked her hands behind her head. She had thick tufts of
flaxen hair in her armpits. These had been dressed with
little pink bows that matched her shorts.
'Cute. I really like it. I'm a bit sparse there myself.'
'The same coiffeur dresses your thatch if you want it.
You have plenty down below, Fee.'
Fee smiled a deep slow smile and slowly shook her head.
'You what?'
Fee said nothing, only continuing to smile at Diana.
'Fee Cambridge, is there something you haven't told
me?'
Diana's eyes flicked up and down her friend. 'Hey,
show/ she suddenly demanded.
'You want to see?'
'I certainly do.'
Fiona reached down and got hold of the hem of her dress.
She crossed her arms over so that her bosom bulged
between her arms. She wriggled and began to work up
her tight skirt. The tops of her stockings came into view,
then her thighs.
She wore no panties and moved very slowly as she
revealed what lay at the base of her belly to the curious
eyes of her friend. Nothing sullied the whiteness of her
skin, for she wore magistocks which needed no suspender
to keep them aloft.
Her mound told its own story. Its satin hairless surface
gleamed slightly in the sunlight in Diana's kitchen. Fee
parted her legs to get her balance and hoisted her skirt
quite free of her sexual parts.
40

Diana gasped and bent her head to look closer.
'Honey, all that gorgeous black stuff you kept down
there. All gone.'
'I thought it spoiled the view,' said Fiona huskily. She
was enjoying showing herself to Diana. What had come
over her, that all she craved was to exhibit herself?
'The view is bizarre, to say the least,' said Diana. 'But
fabulous. This would knock Teddy sideways.' Her hus-
band's name was Theodore. 'Can I look closer?'
'Sure.'
Diana knelt down and inspected Fiona's strangeness
from close to. Fiona's mound of sex was like some strange
fruit, at first a globe, then parting into two lobes. In that
division lay a woman's mystery, her art, her enticement.
It seemed to Diana that Fiona's skin pouted out towards
her, bidding her touch and feel the rounded smoothness
before sliding her fingers within the division to sample the
moist edibility it cloaked.
'Can I touch?' she asked.
'Yes.'
Her hand came up hesitantly. She touched Fiona and felt
the flesh at once satin-soft and smooth, yet firm and elastic,
sheathing the bone within. She stroked it, forgetting it was
a woman's sexual part, so fascinating was it to her. She
slid her hand over it to cup it and sense it with her palm,
rotating her palm slightly at the deliciousness of the texture
it held. Without her conscious volition, her fingers slid
round and caught themselves within the division, the gash,
the slit in the fruit, and she felt against the sensitive tips
Fiona's wetness of sex and the lively little cone of flesh
that was her clitoris. Her fingers curled up and penetrated
deeper, dividing the labia that clung modestly to shield
the entrance to Fiona's body. The warmth drew her. Her
fingertips penetrated and the breath rattled in her throat.
Her eyes rose slowly and she met Fiona's icy gaze as the
glass-green of her eyes stared down.
She had two fingers in Fiona's pussy. 'I'm sorry,' she
whispered.
The tension drained out of Fiona's face and the intensity
41

of her blazing eyes faded. 'Don't be/ she said. 'I love you,
darling.' She dropped on her knees to face her friend and
caught Diana's shaking hand. She slipped the fingers into
her mouth and sucked her own essence from them. Then
she bent her head and kissed her friend on each of her
chained nipples.
She sat back on her heels and smiled. 'If my shaven pussy
has this effect on you, why the hell won't Rollo dig in?'
'He must be crazy. What a texture, Fee. I'm going to
think seriously about doing this myself. God, it's so
sensual, baby. It just sucks you in. I could cradle it all day.'
They got up and grinned at each other. 'The next craze,
they say, is to have a hole down there in your clothes so
folk can see what a pretty diddly thing we all keep hidden.
Hey, how you would feel then, Fee? Drive the men wild.'
'Unless they are all like Rollo/ said Fiona savagely. 'He
must have the libido of a plank of wood right now.'
'He's the best looking husband around/ said Diana. 'Far
better looking than the ugly oaf I'm married to.'
'The sexy ugly oaf/ corrected Fiona.
'Yeah, he's sexy/ agreed Diana. 'And he rogers me like
hell. But he doesn't work like your Rollo and we don't
earn your sort of money.'
'Moderation in all things/ said Fiona gloomily. 'Except
sex. Let's go get a massage, Diana, and the more intimate
the better.'
42

Chapter Four
T
hey took the tunnel way back to Fiona's house to fetch
her car. The massage parlour was at a considerable
distance from the Zoo and it was necessary for them to
use the great soaring highways that flew across the city
sprawling on the plain below.
Diana did not have a car. Although her apartment was
almost as lush as Fiona's, and she dressed at the height of
Zoo fashion which was at once expensive, rapidly-chang-
ing and extreme, there were ways in which her lower
standard of living manifested itself. She did not have a
personal maid. And she did not have a car.
Fiona's car was no ordinary beast. Many drones had cars,
ordinary computer-assisted models. Zoofolk called them
drones but they were just the middle classes, suburb-dwell-
lng and respectable. They despised the outrageous overtly
sexual Zoofolk and the Zoofolk despised their bourgeois
Mentality.
No, Fiona's car was one of the new turbocharged
Monster machines. It was a tiling of superb beauty, elegant
design and state-of-the-art technology. Shaped like
a rocket flattened at the bottom, it was made of corrosion-
43

proof titanium overlaid with unbreakable glass. Fiona's
was deep smoky-brown, a tobacco-coloured tube of power
designed to wing its passengers, as the advertising said,
at speeds in excess of three hundred and fifty miles per
hour. It would do this in total safety and superb comfort,
free from accident or breakdown and as free as possible
from highway piracy. It was for these superautos that the
great highways up on stilts had been built across the
seething corruption of the no-hopers in the decaying cities.
It was the only way the very rich could move through the
very poor and be safe.
At an earlier time highway cops that patrolled with
helicopters and more conventional cars had driven
through the cities. But the poor shot the helicopters down
for sport and if there were survivors, they ransomed them
for large sums of money, a somewhat brutal equalisation
of the national cashflow.
The monster machines up on the special roadways were
safer. Even so, they were not absolutely impregnable. The
self-styled pirates were computer hackers who attacked
the powertubes via their control systems as they blasted
over what was, in effect, enemy territory.
Such attacks were rare, or rather, rarely successful. The
point of them was to capture the effete hothouse flowers
who owned and drove the cars, and ransom them. The
penalty for this crime was endless imprisonment and the
car designers worked constantly on the problem of mak-
ing the cars hack-proof, but the problem was not yet
overcome.
Once Fiona's car was out of its hangar and had trundled
up the local ramp, it began to soar in speed as it matched
itself to the highway. Fiona watched the screen - the
computer screen for there was no windscreen - and keyed
in her destination and desired time of arrival. The car
would do the rest, dealing with other traffic, coping with
any variable conditions there might be and taking them
to their destination as specified. Theoretically, if your car
contained the programme 'World Map', you could choose
44

anywhere in the world, even Antarctica, and sit back and
let the car do the rest.
It was a beautiful machine, a perfect slave, a thousand
times more powerful and, within its limits, faster-thinking
than its operators.
The surge of power gave Fiona the thrill it usually did
and the car settled to a quiet zoom as they rushed through
the polluted air over the cityswamp. They left behind them
their own homes, nestling within the folded hills over-
grown with jungle. Some kinky crooner recently had
likened the jungle to a woman's vulva. The folds were soft
and plump and many, thick with luxuriant pubic growth,
the house domes nestling like microbes within the inter-
stices of the sexual landscape.
The Zoo was rather proud of the comparison.
The car rushed through the air, planing above the
roadway on a friction-free airpad. The only way one could
see what passed by outside was to play a tape, slowed to
watchable speed of the outside world. The cars cocooned
their owners from the ugliness of reality.
'They say the city comes alive at night,' said Diana,
comfortably sprawled on a couch.
'That's what they say,' agreed Fiona. She smiled to
herself.
'Do you ever think about the pirates?' asked Diana.
'Sometimes. It wouldn't be so bad. People get home
again in one piece if the ransom is paid.'
'You fancy, uh, what might happen between being
captured and going home?' asked Diana, her mouth
curving naughtily.
'They say the pirates are powerful men,' said Fee softly.
'It might not be so bad.'
'You're in a pretty bad way,' said Diana. 'If you fancy
multiple rape you must be desperate indeed.'
'It's not rape if you like it,' said Fee sweetly. 'And if I
get wet at the thought of muscular brigands ripping my
knickers off and banging into me, then that is Rollo's fault.
A year ago I would have primmed my lips like a drone
and tut-tutted.'
45

'Never/ mocked Diana. 'But keep your fantasies to do
with the city rather than the jungle.' She laughed. 'No one
would blame you for letting a pirate between your thighs
if you were captured, but don't ride the tigers. It's illegal.'
'There are tigers and tigers/ said Fiona. 'We'll be arriving
shortly.'
The parlour was undoubtedly kinky, but it was classy,
clean and discreet. Several Zoo women used it and if they
didn't make haste to tell their husbands, that was their
own affair. The guilty thrill aroused by a visit was spice
to the occasion.
Fee and Diana signed in and paid and had their bodies
scanned and passed as healthy. 'You require single cubicles
or do you prefer to remain together and take a double?'
asked the dark white-smocked woman at the desk.
'Double/ said Diana firmly. 'Seeing you get all het up is
half the fun, Fee. Let's get to it.'
They were shown into a small room with two couches,
each attended by a young male masseur. The men had
bare chests tanned golden brown with flaring shoulder
muscles and powerful biceps. Each wore a broad leather
belt over skin-tight flexitrousers that ended just below the
knee, revealing shapely muscular calves. The trousers
outlined their buttocks, mound and cleft, and also their
sexual equipment in every exquisite bulging detail.
The young men smiled as the women were shown in.
'Ladies/ said one. 'May we assist you to get undressed?'
'All the way, buster/ said Diana happily. 'I'm here to
enjoy myself.'
Each of the men advanced on each of the women. Diana's
man flicked her hair free and touched her chained nipples.
'Very nice/ he said. 'I can see you are a lady in synch.'
'Glad you approve/ said Diana saucily. Her attendant
began to unbutton her waistcoat lingeringly, allowing her
large bosom slowly to reveal itself. Fee and her man waited
and watched. The whole point of the excursion was to get
turned on. Fee was quite happy to watch and openly
admire as her friend was laid bare.
46

The chain undipped and the waistcoat was slipped back.
The attendant reconnected the chain and now Diana's big
freckled breasts swung free, hanging down under their
own weight with the chain brushing the skin of her
stomach. The man worked close to Diana, touching her as
if by accident, very lightly, brushing and arousing her skin
and sensitising it to his touch. He slipped the waistcoat
right back off her shoulders and saw her coiffeured
armpits. He admired their intricate tiny styling with the
absurdity of pink bow.
Now he knelt before her and unzipped her shorts. He
eased them down over her stomach and firm buttocks and
she stepped out of them. Her flattened bush could be seen
through the material of her tights. Now he began to unroll
her tights from the waist, slowly, allowing her stomach to
ride free, and then her sexual mound.
When her tights were at her ankles he looked up, his
face just opposite her pubes. He raised one hand and gently
fluffed her hair. Diana grinned. She adored a man's hands
on her big powerful body. She lifted each foot in turn and
her tights were slipped off with her shoes. She climbed on
to the padded couch and rested, entirely at her ease with
nothing on. Her attendant took her breast chain in his
mouth and sucked at it so that it gently tugged her nipples.
She laughed delightedly.
Now it was Fiona's turn.
Her young man took his time with her hooks, sliding a
hand down inside the dress to facilitate their undoing,
pressing into her bosom as he did so. When several were
undone, he met Fiona's eyes and calmly lifted each heavy
globe free of the confining material and laid them delicate-
ly on the material of her dress. They were magnolia, thick
and lustrous, against its glossy black surface. His warm
breath caressed them as he continued to undo the dress
until he could split it in two.
They all saw that Fee wore no underwear. Her naked
body was startlingly in view the instant the two front
Panels of her dress parted company.
They all saw the magical bare bulb at the base of her soft
47

flat belly, Diana's luxuriant hirsute growth quite absent in
her friend. The attendant hissed but did not touch.
It seemed to Diana that it was even more beautiful, more
sexy, second time around. The memory of its feel, cradled
in her hand, came back to her. She realised suddenly what
it had reminded her of. Though the shape was quite
different, it had the silken resilience of a man's erect
member, springy, firm, warm and elastic. Sharply there
came to her the lust to see a man's erect cock up against
her friend's naked mound. She wanted to handle a cock
and press the two satin-sheathed parts together and then
press the male one into the enticing divide below the bulb,
between Fiona's legs.
Fee's attendant unrolled her magistocks from where they
clung unassisted to her legs and removed her sandals.
Now Fee was as naked as her friend and as unconcerned.
She too climbed upon her couch and the two women lay
down on their fronts.
'My name is Derek,' said the man who attended Diana.
He adjusted the sugary omni-music so that it washed
sweetly over them. Fee remembered the raw frenzy of the
gut-rock down where the pirates lit their fires and knew
that her life was too bland and that that was a dangerous
thing.
She was captive in her lush anodyne society but she had
the scent of freedom in her nostrils.
The lighting was adjusted so that the corners of the room
became shadowy and mysterious but the women were
highlighted. Then the men hesitated a moment.
'What is it?' asked Diana languorously. She was fully
relaxed, ready for the man to start.
'For a small extra charge,' said one of the men, 'we will
remove our clothing before attending to you, if this would
please you.'
'Yes,' said Fiona greedily before Diana had a chance to
answer. 'Get it all off. Let's see you, boys, huh?' She felt
extraordinarily free with her body public and unclothed.
Excitement ran in her.
The men grinned at each other and each carefully peeled
48

off his skin-tight breeks. Then they were as naked as their
clients, golden boys from head to toe with long slender
penises hanging free from encumbrance. The clouding of
hair at their crotches was very fine and downy, softly
strokable with a visible shine. They had almost no other
body hair, their long lissom limbs free and smooth and
gleaming.
Now at last they began to massage the women, begin-
ning with their scalps and working the roots of their hair
before oiling their palms and moving on to bare silky skin.
Fee sighed and felt herself begin to relax utterly, knots of
tension releasing under the expert manipulation. Now and
again her masseur's skin brushed hers and if she opened
her eyes she could see his member swinging softly to and
fro as he worked. It was a nice sight. It was a very nice
sight. Once, when it was close to her hand, she reached
out and stroked it and she smiled.
Occasionally she heard Diana groan with sensual enjoy-
ment. It was a good idea coming here, she thought. A
certain amount of peace began to descend upon her.
At her buttocks her attendant ground steadily into her
flesh. He separated her two cheeks, savouring the plump
roundness of their contours, and she felt a stab of sexual
thrill as she remembered the karate-hard edge of the pirate's
hand pressing in that place the previous night.
The man who felt her and worked her was called Paul.
He rotated her buttocks and slapped them and dug his
thumbs into them. His hands slid between them and soon
his thumbs were pressing where she had to give, on the
entrance to her back passage, where she could afford no
resistance. The slick oily experienced fingers dug and
probed and worked her hole so that the tight ring of muscle
began to give more and she groaned deeply with pleasure,
wanting to lift her rear into his invasive hands.
He kept going. He increased the pressure and now his
thumbs slid within her a little. It was delicious. She
clamped on his fingers and heard him laugh slightly.
Now her orifice was right open and he worked round the
edge of the sundered crinkled flesh, constantly penetrating
49

her slightly. Her vagina began to run juicily as her anus
glowed with its abuse and his thumbs sank further in.
Her mind ran to the previous night and she thought of
a big rough violent prick, thought of it where the masseur's
oily thumbs now penetrated, thought of the big invader
exploding up her arse as it was gripped by her lust. She
thought of sitting down on the pirate's prick and letting
it bulge in her tight bottom whilst she frigged her own
clitoris and he pumped her rear with hammer blows.
She thought of her missile-shaped car thundering
through her and herself laughing as she was split into two,
at last satiated, satisfied, and able to find peace.
'Roll over, now, ma'am,' said Paul. Dazedly, Fiona
complied.
He massaged her face, neck, arms, and hands, working
with particular attention on her shoulders to ease and relax
them. Then he took one of her breasts and cradled it, felt
it all over, stroked it, rotated it, slapped it and pummelled
it, and beat it with quick short Strokes that made it pulsate
as if it had a life of its own. It heated under his hands, the
blue veins that marbled the flesh rising slightly and
darkening. He began to work on her nipple, drawing it
between his fingers, teasing it into erection and giving it
little flicks.
When both breasts had been treated alike, they felt
buoyant and glowing and firm.
He massaged her stomach, hips, thighs, ankles and feet.
To do her calves, he rested her foot on his groin so she
could feel his warm fuzz of hair and the silk of his slack
member against her foot as he worked.
He came back to her thighs and made them open and
fall apart as he drew nearer to her central secret place.
She lay with eyes closed, feeling his body graze hers
gently, feeling the flop of his penis as it lolled against her
relaxed flesh and rolled over her curving mounds. He
climbed astride her, up on the table with her with his knees
pressing against the sides of her legs and his penis dropping
between and over her thighs in a gentle intimate caress.
His thumbs went inside her, inside her sex, and he
50

frigged her. This was what he was paid for. This was
intimate massage.
His fingers found her labia and her clitoris and he
worked them and stimulated them. He kept slipping his
probing expert fingers deep into her and applying pressure
within.
Fiona began to writhe under him and her lips parted as
she cried out soundlessly in sexual ecstasy.
Diana stopped her own massage to watch. She herself
only climaxed when a man penetrated her fully. She knew
Fee could climax from masturbation and it fascinated her
to see her friend given over to passion, prey to great
shudderings and sexual tremors that were evidence of the
tumult within.
Fee's head turned from side to side. She was oblivious
to Diana's curious stare or the eyes of the two men. All
she knew was the masturbation of her sexual place. Her
knees were drawn up and held wide open. Paul had both
hands at her, one frotting her clitoris and one with two
fingers deep inside her entrance. Both his fists ground into
her vulva. Fee knew nothing except her approaching
orgasm. She was utterly given up to her body. Her lips
shaped the words, please, please, but no clear sound
emerged beyond an inarticulate cry for release. Her sex
shook and throbbed and spurted wetly. She drove her hips
up into Paul's hands, gasping and thrusting.
The inner vibrations eased. Her juices ran freely and
Paul's hands were wet. Her face went slack as her limbs
relaxed, the crisis past. She throbbed with a dull insistence,
the masturbation reawakening bruised flesh battered by a
pirate prick the night before.
Fee's body lay as if tossed by the wind, completely at
rest. Her eyes were shut and she had a half-smile on her
face, an inturned expression like that of a contented cat.
Her skin glowed with sex and the golden youth still knelt
between her legs.
'And was your last thing a big boy?'- he enquired in a
silky voice. Diana came suddenly to attention. 'He cer-
tainly left his mark,' added the masseur.
51

'He was big/ said Fee and a shudder suddenly ran
through her glowing body.
'I though you might be sore/ said Paul. 'I could see you
were all pulpy and soft.'
'Can I look?' asked Derek. He came and stood looking
between Fiona's legs still flopped slackly apart, seeing her
dark bruised vulva like a ripe fruit half-bitten, the juices
running down between her legs.
'Fiona?' asked Diana.
'Tell you later, kid/ answered Fiona dreamily.
Now Derek returned to Diana and he slipped his hands
up into the big woman's strong proud sex, but though she
wriggled and sighed with pleasure, she did not come and
indeed, knew she would not. Fee watched her, leaning on
one elbow and still half-caught in her own fantasy. Diana's
hairy mound lifted and her long thighs shivered but that
was all. The freckled breasts could not fall apart as Fiona's
had done, for the chain pulling on the pierced nipples, held
them together. Fee wondered what it would be like to feel
the chain between her legs, to rub herself on its cold
unyielding bumpy surface.
Diana was watching Fee watching her. That was OK.
She knew Fee got a kick out of seeing a woman's body in
arousal. She did herself, especially Fee's. She was hair-trig-
ger over sex due to Rollo's neglect. Diana wondered if he
realised he was playing with fire. Fiona would make
a formidable enemy.
'That was great/ she said. 'I loved the boy's dongos
swinging around.' She touched Derek's prick and gave a
sexy growl in her throat. He grinned complacently. 'It's a
nice sight/ she said and sighed.
'Ladies/ said Paul diffidently. 'There is another service
this establishment provides.'
'No, no/ said Diana lazily. 'I get it from my husband
when it's all the way up and in. That suits me fine. I'm
just here to play games, you beautiful boys.'
Paul was shocked. 'We never synch with the clients/ he
said stiffly. 'This is not a brothel.'
'My mistake.' Diana was genial and untroubled.
52

'What service do you mean?' Fee's voice was cool and
husky.
The two men went side by side with each other. They
were remarkably similar in size, build and colouring: a
matched pair. Now they laid their arms about each other's
shoulders.
'Derek and 1/ Paul continued, 'will provide a little
entertainment, should you girls like it.'
That there should be no doubt of what was intended,
each laid his free hand across their bodies and grasped his
partner's genitals. It was a pretty sight.
'You mean you boys will, uh, perform, if we sub up?'
asked Diana. Fee caught the threadlike ripple of excitement
in her voice.
Derek smiled a catlike smile. 'We like it,' he said softly.
'You want this?' asked Fee.
'I've seen it on the Screen, of course,' mused Diana. 'It
seems different, right here in front of us in the flesh.'
'We won't be acting,' said Paul. His hand slid up his
friend's shaft and the slender thing became erect and stood
out before the young man.
'That's pretty,' enthused Diana.
'Let's do it,' said Fiona. 'Heaven knows I'm sick of men
who don't. I'd like to see some male enthusiasm about the
place.'
'Talking of which, what's this about you being sore,
Fiona? You've been holding out on me.'
'An oasis in the desert. I'll explain later. On you go boys.
Give us sight of some action.'
They got the two men to push the couches together. Thus
the two women were side by side, reclining in Roman
fashion, still quite nude but ready to watch and be
entertained. Fiona felt her pulse begin to speed up. This
Was a neat idea, homo tricks before the two women clients.
It was the sort of thing that made the drones rail on about
decadence and the sick society, but for herself, she couldn't
see the harm in it. It certainly had an esoteric appeal,
though. This would be one for the record books. Her core
felt warm and juicy at the thought.
53

Now the men moved to the rear of the room and drew
back floor-length drapery to reveal a little stage with a
large square couch entirely covered in fur. The lighting
was adjusted so that the girls were in the gloom but the
men were brightly displayed. A mirror faced them from
the head end of the couch. Nothing would be missed of
the action to follow.
Paul and Derek got on to the couch and knelt facing each
other, chest to hairless chest, almost touching. Their ton-
gues poked out from their mouths and touched, tip to tip.
Then they entwined and brought their faces close in so
that open-mouthed they kissed each other wetly and fully
and deeply. Their hands began to play over each other's
smooth bodies, savouring the touch of male skin with male
skin. When they adjusted their bodies it could be seen that
their pricks mimicked their tongues. Each was erect and
touching tip to tip, swollen knob to swollen knob. There
was a succulent delicacy about their touching. Their lavish
enjoyment of each other's sexual parts was evident, yet
they were sensuous and careful, not greedy. They were
gloating over each other and content to take their time.
They began a complicated, slow elaborate ballet of
structured movement. Each struck a posture and held it,
maybe with one limb raised and arms apart, and the other
caressed and explored the exposed part. They broke pose
to kiss and lick each other, and gradually they began to
concentrate on groin and buttock, using hand and tongue
to arouse and fondle. Then, slowly, Derek stood up, letting
his erect member rub up his friend from groin to face as
he rose. He stood straddled before his kneeling friend. Paul
lent forward and delicately he took the end of Derek's
prick in his mouth.
Diana hissed slightly in excitement and squirmed next
to Fiona. In response, hardly aware of what she was doing/
Fiona reached a hand across and felt her friend's heavy
breast. Diana did not stop her and Fiona's hand slid out
over the full curve to find the nipple. She traced its length
and pliant firmness and felt the cold resistance of the
piercing gold.
54

Derek began to pump his hips as Paul sucked him. They
saw the long slim shaft sink between the lips of his mouth
and as Derek drew back from Paul's face, the wet column
glistened between them.
Derek stopped and Paul sucked his knob, opening his
mouth so that his tongue could flicker snakelike over the
bulbous head. His hand came up and he began expertly
to squeeze Derek's balls.
Derek's head went back and he began to pant. He
pumped vigorously and the other's cheeks sucked hard as
he powerfully worked his friend's prick. Then Derek was
coming. They saw his shaft throb as he gasped. A moment
later Paul opened his mouth and the women saw the
creamy spunk on his tongue. With a sigh Derek dropped
to his knees and placed his open mouth on Paul's. They
kissed deeply, their throats working, swallowing the
shared spunk.
'Wow,' said Diana softly. 'Is that a sight!'
'Glad we stayed?' whispered Fiona. Her hand dropped
from Diana's breast and she curled her fingers round
Diana's warm stomach. Diana trembled slightly. 'You bet.'
Now Derek turned and presented his backside to the
girls.
'It's Paul's turn,' he said sweetly.
Before their startled eyes Paul began to massage Derek's
rear much as he had done for Fiona earlier. He worked
the tight valve open, inserting two, then three fingers and
plunging them deeply into Derek. Then he raised himself
and his erect shaft. He took his fingers out of Derek's rear
and began to push with his own member, pressing in
between the lobes of his arse, driving to penetrate his male
body.
Both women saw the effort it took to push the swollen
end of penis at the tight aperture. Yet though there was
strain evident on Paul's face, there was bliss also. Derek's
face was reflected in the revealing mirror. He was trans-
Ported with delight, his lips drawn back baring his teeth
ln a rictus of pleasure as his flesh split and gave way before
the assault.
55

Paul's swollen gland slid into Derek's arse and he thrust
forward, driving the length of his wand fully in until his
hips and thighs rested against the cheeks of Derek's
bottom.
Fiona felt Diana's tension and let her hand drop from
her stomach into her hot humid place. Diana eased her
position to allow her better access. Fiona ran her fingers
gently inside and felt her pulse flutter rapidly as Diana's
warmth and elasticity enveloped her groping fingers.
Paul began to move into Derek's arse with his glistening
golden shaft, and the girls were mesmerised as it went in
and out, in and out. It made the most delicious and
lascivious sucking and plopping noise, a fat wet noise of
sexual congress.
Now Paul was excited, thrusting deeper and harder and
muttering in his lust. He grasped his friend's hips and
slammed hard into him. Then he yelped and they saw him
come. He held Derek's cheeks hard apart and his prick
bulged as he ejaculated into Derek.
Then, for a moment, he hung limp over Derek's bent
back before starting to withdraw. Both women strained to
see. The narrow penis came out half-limp and foamy. Best
of all, before the valve closed its secrets from view in tight
fawn flesh as Paul removed his prick, they saw a dribble
of spunk in Derek's cleft, oozing from his rear.
Now Paul dropped his head before his enthralled
audience and put his tongue right out. He licked his
friend's dribbling arse with long strong licks, then pene-
trated anew the riven flesh, this time with his tongue, and
sucked hard.
Both men kissed each other with extreme affection and
sweetness. Looking douce and wicked, they turned to the
women, a pair of satyrs loose in the modern world,
escaped from mythological times to worship Pan anew.
Diana began to clap. Fiona still had her fingers within
her hole and she felt Diana's muscles work as she clapped.
The spongy wetness invited her to linger but she knew
she could not. Not now. Not here.
Diana congratulated the performers but Fiona turned
56

over what she had learned about herself within her mind.
It was being quite a day.
For some reason, little Janine came into her mind.
Fiona smiled, her green eyes glittering coldly. Life wasn't
quite without interest after all.
57

Chapter Five
O
n the way back to the Zoo, relaxed in the auto, Diana
quizzed Fiona.
'Give, baby,' she said. 'Who synched with you if it wasn't
Rollo? Who's made you sore?'
But Fiona had had second thoughts. Some ideas had
come to her, big ideas that needed thinking over and
investigating.
Illegal ideas.
However good the friendship, she couldn't involve Diana
until she had things clearer in her head. Indeed, because
she was fond of the big Scandinavian, she wouldn't do
anything to harm her.
It was all nonsense. She was just flirting with the idea of
danger. None the less, it would give her a kick to sort it
out in her mind and pretend she might go through with
it. Meanwhile, it would be only sense to keep quiet about
the root of her plan.
The pirate. Will and his lovely rogue cock that went
where he willed and did not understand the boundaries
of reticence and decent behaviour and good manners.
No, best to keep silence and hug her gutter sex to herself-
58

'I'm making too much of a mystery/ she said lazily. 'It
was just a new vibrator and I used it too much. I am so
damn fed up with Rollo choosing the desert instead of
the wellhead. The man takes a pill every night and is dead
to the world.' She giggled. 'I suppose I could wreak my
vengeance on his sleeping body but it would be like
necrophilia, you know? I kind of go for movement and
response. Anyway, I took refuge in the nun's delight last
night and went a little over the top.'
Diana was disappointed but did not press for salacious
details. 'You want to stay for lunch?' she asked. 'We could
shop after, if you felt like it.'
'I think I'll go home/ said Fiona. Her eyes were hard,
like emerald chips. 'I'm tired and I suppose I ought to
align with Rollo over lunch. We didn't match schedules
this morning, as you can imagine.'
'This scheme he's working on/ said Diana. 'It'll be really
big if it comes off.' There was a note of envy in her voice.
'I guess/ said Fiona. 'If it does, I'll have to help with the
organisation. I'll have less time free.'
'You'd enjoy that, wouldn't you?'
'Yeah. I like work, actually. I just don't like it to get in
the way of my sex life. At the moment Rollo is totally
sublimated and I don't go for that, no way.'
'Would you screw around?'
'Would I tell you if I did? Be real. We know the same
people. I'd have to be discreet.'
There was a great deal of overt sexual display and open
sex talk in the Zoo, but though few of them admitted it,
they weren't so different from the drones in the way they
behaved. They made more noise about it, that was all.
Human sexual behaviour has always been much the
same. It is the fashion for its presentation that varies, that's
all.
'Lay off Teddy/ said Diana. Her tone was light but she
meant it. She might let Fiona dabble in her fanny but she
wasn't going to share her man's equipment. Oh no.
Fiona's cold green gaze enveloped the blonde. 'I value
your friendship maybe more than you know, huh?'
59

Diana licked her lips. She remembered how nice it was,
Fiona's fingers within her during the live sex show. She
remembered her own fingers within Fiona. That was
almost nicer, if possible.
'I know,' she said.
Fee was there when Rollo came out of his work station.
One room of the luxury apartment was entirely given
over to telecommunications and it was from there that
Rollo conducted his business affairs, rarely meeting his
associates in the flesh. He could have an on-screen
conference with up to twelve personnel with the equip-
ment he hired, and if it happened that he needed more,
he could hire a bigger slice of satellite and put them on
line. They had no need to waste time and resources jetting
around the world. Business was conducted through the
small screen now and that was the world as far as Rollo
was concerned.
He was engaged in floating a company to pipe water
from the wet northwest to the arid southeast. This was a
project that had been on the books for over fifty years, ever
since drought became a regular feature of the southern
summer, but still no one had yet got around to the
engineering and financial logistics necessary. Rollo was
filling the gap. He was developing a consortium and
financing it through the marketplace with himself as head
and Fiona as one of the directors. If it fell into place she
would become involved on a day-to-day basis. She had a
genius for organisation and was a natural partner for him,
hard-headed and clear-sighted, and if he hadn't forgotten
she was a sexually active and needy woman, their rela-
tionship would have been perfect.
As it was, Fiona was hellbent on revenge.
Rollo had forgotten their exchange of the morning and
was still vibrating from his business activities. He ate a salad
without noticing it, discussing the personalities of the men
and women he was dealing with and the various timings
suggested for the launch date of the new company.
'Give us a name, Fee,' he said. 'Something strong and
60

sexy. It's got to make people think of power and success
and confidence.'
She stared at him in amazement. The man had no idea
what went on in her head these days.
'ThroughFlow/ she suggested. 'FluidFlow, SuckSouth,
Streamline, OnStream, SouthFlow, DeepWet, SoakDown
/
'OK, OK, print them out baby. Nothing too raunchy. No
Zoo-smell. We want to appeal to all levels. So no going
over the top.'
Not for you, maybe, thought Fiona with sweet savagery.
But I might.
'What are you going to do this afternoon?' Belatedly
Rollo remembered his manners. In most marriages where
one partner earned enough for both, the other usually
watched a lot of Screen and video between dates at the
gym and neighbourly socialising. Upright members of
society did good works and pontificated in local govern-
ment.
Fiona wasn't very upright. 'I'm horny. My lover's com-
ing round,' she said.
'Don't joke about it, woman. Now I have to go.'
Fiona had had a big night. She went back to bed and fell
asleep.
After she woke, she showered and, still in her houserobe,
she settled to her computer. She was determined to be a
pirate. She hadn't been mouthing off the previous night
and she was mad that they would not let her join them
for a raid or two.
So she would go it alone. The pirates hacked cars. They
only occasionally achieved success - it was not an easy
thing to do. But Fiona had several advantages that they
lacked.
Firstly and chiefly, she had a car of her own. The pirates
never had a car, never could take one apart and learn how
it was made as far as its computer Control-net, its Connet,
Was concerned. Connet cars carried protection against
hacking, or piracy as everyone called it. When the internal
guidance computer, the Connet itself, was overridden by
61

external instruction, as in hacking, it melted down, totally
self-destructing.
The Connet defined the car. It was the most expensive
component, worth more than the rest of the car put
together. So meltdown had to be a disastrously expensive
procedure.
The manufacturers reckoned it was worth it. Even when
they succeeded in hacking a car and bringing it to a halt,
the pirates could not use what they had stolen. The Connet
was lost, melted, defunct and unanalysable. Until it was
replaced, the car could not be driven. So all the pirates
could do was break the door locks and take the passengers
hostage, the passengers being by definition rich, since only
the very very rich could afford a Connet car in the first
place. They were then ransomed back to their ever-loving
families and the car was towed away, to have its computer
replaced if the owner could afford to carry the insurance.
The pirates never got a look in.
The SkyPolice could hack into a car to stop it if they
believed it contained a criminal, and that also induced
meltdown. Of course, Connet owners were rarely criminals
and if they were, they didn't attempt to flee in their cars.
There was too much to lose.
The cars were fitted with a manual override which shut
down the Connet without destroying it, but you could only
do this after hitting an emergency switch that sent an
automatic Mayday signal that would bring down the
SkyPolice, AirAmbulance and FireCopters within five
minutes. And it took ten minutes from pressing the
emergency switch before you could engage manual. The
cars were joyrider-proof. The destination programme
could be entered by anyone, but only those whose genetic
fingerprint was recorded as a permitted user could operate
the Connet and actually engage the programme.
Rollo and Fiona, and absolutely nobody else in the world,
could drive their Connet unless they themselves enlarged
the permitted user record, something they had no intention
of doing.
So Connet cars kept their internal secrets. But Fiona had
62

a second advantage. She was a computer whizzkid herself
and had actually worked for the automanufacturers at one
stage in her life.
She planned to hack a car. She would learn what she
could from her own but she had no intentions of inducing
meltdown. She didn't care what she did to the car she
hacked - meltdown would be inevitable but she would
run no risk of damaging her own property.
The police would never know. It would just be one more
act of piracy on the highway.
Rollo had bought the car but he rarely used it. Indeed,
he hardly ever left the apartment except on sporting or
social occasions. It was Fiona who used it for transport.
She did a couple of hours' work and then emerged and
called for Janine. The young girl came and helped her
mistress choose a tight black skirt with over-the-shoulder
straps that revealed almost the entire breast apart from the
nipple.
'It's a lovely dress, ma'am,' said Janine, 'but a little dated.
They expose the nipple now, you know.'
'Mmm. I was with Diana today. She had this great
waistcoat that covered all of her except the sticky-out bits.
And those were pierced.'
Janine stood back and looked at the dress. Then she came
forward and felt the material, rubbing it between her
fingers. Fiona's nipples brushed the back of her hands.
'If you gave me twenty minutes I could adjust this for
you,' said Janine. 'The straps are wide enough and strong
enough, I think.'
'Go ahead. I'll make up.'
Fee stepped out of the dress and Janine fetched her
sewing box and settled in the corner to bring the dress into
fashion. Dressed only in suspenders, flesh-pink stockings
and four-inch heeled shoes, Fiona sat at her dressing table
and got to work on her face.
Rollo came in. He saw his wife's all-but-nakedness and
his eyes flicked, slightly shocked, from the blind stare of
Fiona's hairless crotch to Janine, bent submissively over her
mundane task in the corner. He came and stood behind
63

Fiona and began to massage her shoulders. She leaned back
against him, the action pulling up her magnificent taut
breasts so that each nipple pointed into the mirror and was
there reflected, pointing back.
Her eyes went up from her own body so that she could
watch him in the mirror. His lean face was beautiful, his
eyes as brilliant in colour as the wing of a hummingbird.
His hair was a long silken sheet, brushed carelessly back
to reveal the planes of his face, and she longed to sink her
hands in its warmth and revel in his animal fur. He was
dressed all in black for the evening, his overshirt spangled
with dull silver medallions, and Fiona could see his
muscled body move within the embrace of the cloth. He
was a black panther of a man and for all the use he was
to her, he might as well have been gelded.
He bent to kiss her shoulder. 'You given up on under-
wear?' he asked.
'Sometimes. Janine's altering my dress.'
His hand came over her shoulder and cupped her breast.
She saw he was watching it in the mirror.
'Rollo,' she said, soft and low.
He let go of her. 'I'm tired, baby. I thought a gentle
evening. It's late already. I've got some stuff to look over.'
The green eyes went diamond hard. 'It still could be
gentle,' she said deliberately.
'Let's eat, Fee.'
The tension went out of her and she stood up, moving
with lazy grace, somehow insulting, going across the room
to her maid. Her high heels made the muscles in the backs
of her calves taut and her buttocks moved seductively up
and down in relation to each other. Standing up, her
nakedness was more apparent, her bare-breastedness, her
naked dome and naked arse emphasised by her suspen-
ders, stockings and her two clothed companions.
'Are you done yet?' she asked. One leg relaxed with the
knee bent, she stood close to Janine seated over her task.
Rollo watched them from the dressing table.
'Just finished,' said Janine, heatsealing the final seam-
Her eyes, on a level with Fiona's belly, slid up her mistress.
64

Fiona moved back slightly and Janine stood up. She held
the dress up for inspection.
Carefully Fiona stepped into it and Janine fastened the
short tight skirt and smoothed it over Fiona's hips. Then
she eased each strap into position and carefully teased the
nipples through each of the holes she had just made.
'Just rub them a little/ said Fiona huskily. 'They'll get
stiffer and it'll make it easier for you.'
Across the room Rollo licked his lips and light gleamed
on the tight skin over his cheekbone. Janine frotted her
mistress's plummy nipples and they stood proud, dark
and firm, through the dress.
'That's great/ said Fiona. 'Fix my hair now, baby. And
I need plum-coloured earrings to match.'
Janine's eyes flicked up to meet Rollo's and down again.
'They need ghost cream/ she said. 'Then they'll glow in
the dark.'
Fiona came over by Rollo and sat down in front of the
mirror.
'You do it/ she said to Janine.
Rollo had propped himself half-sitting on the dressing
table to one side of the mirror. Janine now went to the other
side and picked up the tube of luminescing cream that Fiona
used for her lips at night. She leant round in front of Fiona
so that her hair swung in a heavy curtain across Fiona's
knees.
Fiona noticed two things. The first one was how far gone
in her adoration of Rollo Janine was, and how much the
girl was enjoying this by-play even if she didn't quite
realise what was going on. The second thing she noticed
was that the wheat-fair hair took on titian lights under the
artificial lighting of the dressing table.
Janine's tongue came very slightly out from between her
lips and she gripped it with her teeth as she concentrated.
Carefully and slowly she ran the tube of cream round the
dark aureoles of Fiona's breasts. She applied it thickly. Then
she put the tube down and with one finger she began to
massage the transparent cream into the flesh and the
projecting nipple.
65

'You do one, Rollo,' said Fiona.
His blue eyes were very bright as he leant close to his
wife, his arm brushing Janine's hair. He rubbed Fiona's
nipple till it was covered with a film of cream. Fiona saw
a pulse flutter in his temple.
As she sat there, her husband at one breast and her maid
at the other, with nothing but a stifled silence between them,
the plan Fee had been struggling to formulate fell into place
with smooth precision. She almost laughed out loud.
Janine stopped and drew back. She was flushed a pale
delicate rose, a faint wash of colour that Fiona thought had
nothing to do with the intimate contact with her body. It
was the nearness of Rollo, the lion man, her master. Fiona
reached up a hand and took Janine by the shoulder, pulling
her gently down.
She touched the young girl's lips with her own. 'Thank
you,' she murmured. 'You are very precious. I wouldn't
be without you.'
Rollo's eyes flickered. Fiona began to purr with content-
ment.
She gave Rollo one last chance. Late that night she stopped
him before he took his sleeping pill.
'I want to go down on you,' she whispered. He lay on
the satin sheet quite naked and breathtakingly beautiful.
His body was mature and arrogantly firm, his muscle tone
excellent. He was a shapely man, wide at the shoulders
and narrow at the hips. His manhood lolled back across
one thigh.
'I'm almost asleep, Fee.'
She ignored this, turning round in the bed and taking
his member in her mouth. For a moment she tasted heaven
as it thickened between her lips and she began gently to
tantalise it to full erection with little sucks and kisses.
'Fee,' said Rollo. She felt him go soft within her mouth.
'Give me a few days, huh? When the pressure eases,
maybe.' He put a pill in his mouth. In a few minutes he
was deeply asleep.
Fiona sat there considering him for a while. Then she got
66

off the bed and went along the corridor to the maid's suite.
She tapped on the door.
A sleepy voice called out and Fiona went into the room
and on and through to the bedroom.
Janine was reading in bed.
Fiona went over to her and took the girl's hand in her
own.
'It's me, Janine. I'm sorry to interrupt you. I want to
show you something.'
'Now?' Janine sounded puzzled and alarmed.
'Come along to my bedroom. I've something to show
you.'
She stood and obediently Janine climbed out of bed. She
was wearing something in artificial silk with a cluster of
pink frills that came to midthigh. It was liberally adorned
with little teddy bears wearing pink bows. Her heavy hair
was plaited into a single thick rope.
Fiona took her hand again and led her back along the
corridor to the master bedroom. She took Janine in and
led her to the bed.
The girl gasped as she looked down on the sleeping man.
'You told me you were a virgin today.'
'That's right. That's the truth.' Janine's voice was
squeaky and her eyes were round as saucers.
'Have you ever felt a man?'
She didn't pretend not to understand. 'No,' she whis-
pered.
'Touch Rollo. Go on. He won't wake,'
Still holding Janine's hand she guided it down onto her
husband's sex. She lifted the soft silky shaft from where it
nestled in its warm bed of fur and pushed it into Janine's
hand, closing her fingers over it so that it was cradled in
their nervous grasp.
'I know you've got the hots for him,' she said gently.
That's OK. I do myself. But Sleeping Beauty here needs
Waking up. I don't mean that literally. I mean sexually.
The prince needs a princess. You help me to arouse this
guy and bring him back to sexual life and I'll double your
salary and let you bite on his apple, too. You get me?'
67

'I, I don't know.' Janine held Rollo's prick as if it was a
venomous snake. Yet she could not let it go.
'Put it this way. You are a virgin.'
'Yes.'
'You don't want to be.'
'No.' Janine was vehement.
'You fancy Rollo.'
'I can't help it, Mrs Cambridge. He's so gorgeous.'
'Yes, isn't he?' said Fiona dryly. 'Now, tell me. If you
want to become fully a woman you need an experienced
man, yes?'
'Oh, yes,' said Janine fervently.
'Well, despite his present supine state, Rollo is an
experienced man. And he is attracted to you.'
'He is?' Janine's startled eyes flew to Fiona's. 'Oh no. He
couldn't be.' She was as pink as her nightwear.
'I knew tonight. So did you.'
Janine hung her head. She kept her hold of Rollo's
manhood, though.
'What turned him on was you fiddling with my body.
You didn't mind that, did you? Touching me, I mean.'
Janine fixed her eyes on Rollo's balls relaxed at the base
of his shaft. 'Actually, I liked it,' she mumbled. 'I think
your body is fantastic. I wish mine was like it. It makes
me feel really funny to do things to you.'
'I thought so.' Fiona's voice remained calm and she
masked the flare of triumph within her. 'Would you mind
if I touched you?'
'I don't know. I've never thought. . .'
'Take you nightshirt thing off.'
Stiffly, Janine released Rollo and removed her nightshirt.
She did not meet Fiona's eyes. She stood, miserable with
embarrassment, her arms hanging at her sides.
Her body was warmly peach and slightly chubby, her
breasts endearing and her stomach a rounded perfection.
Crisp fair curls hid her sex. She was indescribably sweet.
Run your hands down Rollo,' said Fiona after a moment.
He won t wake. Sit on the bed.'
As if in a daze Janine obeyed. Tremulously she began to
68

caress the sleeping man, growing bolder as he did not wake.
She felt his chest and shoulders, she ran her hands lightly
down his arms, and then she returned to his sex. She was
fascinated by his heavy soft limpness. She bent over him,
trying to see him better in the dim light, and her rope of
hair hung heavily to one side, the end brushing his thigh.
Fiona took the weight of the hair in her hands and then
began methodically to unplait it, shaking it loose and then
drawing it over one shoulder so it spilled down Janine's
back and tumbled about her lower shoulder and caressed
her breast on that side. Now she could see the girl fingering
her husband's sex. She began to stroke her naked back.
'Kiss him, if you like,' she said softly.
Janine bent her head and touched dry lips to Rollo's
chest.
'Kiss his manhood,' whispered Fiona. Her breath stirred
the hair by Janine's ear.
She felt Janine shudder. Her head drooped, as if heavy,
and with her pale gold hair spilling all around she brushed
her lips against the silken sheath of Rollo's golden shaft.
He sighed and stirred very slightly.
Janine held herself stiff, bent over him, her bottom
slightly lifted, trembling. Fiona ran her hands under the
firm sweetness of her youthful buttocks.
'Kiss him,' she murmured.
Janine whimpered in her throat, opened her mouth and
kissed Rollo, tasting with her tongue. As she did so, Fiona
inserted her fingers in the opened cleft between her bottom
cheeks and ran her fingers lightly along it till she felt the
dampness of sexual opening and the soft brush of intimate
hair.
'Kiss him,' she said, her own hand trembling as one
finger sought for and found Janine's tiny member. She
caressed it with a mothlike touch.
Janine lifted Rollo's prick and put it into her mouth. She
sucked lightly, her eyes shut, as Fiona probed delicately
below her.
'There's a fire burning in you, sweetheart,' said Fiona.
'Let me help you with it.'
69

Janine released Rollo and laid her burning forehead
gently on his cool chest. She gave a small stifled sob.
'Lie down beside him on the bed.'
Her head came up. 'May I?' she pleaded.
'Come on. On your back.'
Janine's face glowed as she moved carefully around the
bed and lay beside Rollo, allowing her body to touch his
in as many places as possible. Her expression was beautific.
'Relax now and open your legs.'
'Oh, please. I mean . . .'
'Don't be scared. I just have to check you really are a
virgin and you aren't having me on before we get too deep
into this thing.'
With a nervous eagerness Janine let her legs come up
and fall apart. Very carefully Fiona inserted a finger into
the extreme end of Janine's little pussy. The girl stiffened
and became rigid, her eyes squeezed shut. Fiona went a
short way into the tight small orifice, and then smiled and
withdrew her finger. She had felt the obstruction. She bent
over Janine and kissed her on the lips.
'You angel. Nothing but the truth. Your little place is
divine. I envy Rollo his forthcoming pleasure.'
Janine blushed. 'What do you mean?'
'Why, what do you think I mean? Rollo is going to have
your sweet body, if you want him to.'
'If I want him to? Oh, Mrs Cambridge, it's my dream.
But he doesn't want anyone like me. He has you.'
'You undervalue yourself and what you have to offer,
sweetie. You have something rare and precious. The first
time you give yourself to a man matters. It needs to be
good and it needs to be important to him. I think you will
be, for Rollo. You are young, beautiful and untried, and
you adore him. What man could ask for more?'
As she spoke, Fiona absently ran a hand over Janine's
breast. She continued to stroke her whilst the tension went
out of her young body.
'You want to touch him some more?'
'Please.'
'Go ahead. May I play with you a little while you do?'
70

'If you'd like to/ whispered Janine.
She turned to the sleeping man and for a long moment
she worshipped him with her eyes. Then she ran her hands
over him, coming back to his sex, lifting it and feeling it
and finally cupping his balls and weighing them in her
small palm.
Whilst she did so, Fiona aroused her own nipples and
then brushed them against Janine's smooth skin, stroking
Janine on her breast and back.
Then she thought she had maybe pushed things far
enough for one evening. She kissed Janine on the shoulder.
'That's enough for tonight now. You run along and think
things over. And take tomorrow off, so you can catch up
on your sleep.'
Janine turned round, her young breasts swinging and
brushing against Fiona's.
'Thank you/ she whispered, with shining eyes. 'It's been
fantastic. I hope you don't change your mind.'
'You might change yours/ said Fiona, veiling her eyes.
'No/ Janine was suddenly fierce. She reached up her face
and kissed Fiona hard on the lips. Fee was astonished and
for a moment didn't react. Then her mouth opened and
she felt Janine's tongue enter. Her hands came up and she
clasped the girl's shoulders and for a moment the two
women clung together, kissing with sensual abandon.
Janine picked up her nightshirt and fled.
For a long moment after Janine was gone Fiona stared
down at her sleeping husband. She remembered the sight
of those young eager hands and lips about his loins. She
thought of Janine's freshness and simplicity and air of
Worship. Her mouth twisted wryly and she was visited by
a powerful desire to slap Rollo hard and beat him with
her fists.
The Valentine had arrived that day. Rollo had laughed,
Put it to one side and forgotten about it.
71

Chapter Six
F
iona let three days and nights go by and then she asked
Janine if she might come to her room that night. Janine
was agreeable. Indeed, she was eager.
During those three days Fiona had seen her eyes follow-
ing Rollo about the apartment upon the occasions that they
were in the same room, which was not very often. During
the three nights, Rollo had continued to sleep the sleep of
death.
When Fiona came along the corridor that night she
hardly knew herself what she was doing. She was accus-
tomed to being honest with herself and she knew that this
played no part in the revitalisation of her husband. She
was sure that had Rollo continued to satisfy her as he once
had done, she would never have felt driven to explore the
peculiar byways of sexual practice that now enticed her.
She had begun by trying to find some sort of satisfaction
for herself, some acknowledgement that she could arouse
and satisfy men. That had led her out into the night where
she had knelt before strange men and taken their essence
into herself, herself anonymous and of the night. She had
told herself that this was not adultery. Her body remained
72

inviolate whilst she indulged her strange fierce passion to
taste a man in his orgasm.
Yet it had not been enough.
She yearned for danger. A madness had come over her
and her safe comfortable life had become a prison that she
broke out of. The pirates were figures of great romance in
her world, the subject of countless romantic adventures on
the Screen, but the reality was quite different.
It was darker, dirtier, fiercer, more dangerous than she
could have imagined. It pleased her that she knew the truth.
It pleased her as she moved, beautiful, aloof and fashion-
able, through her elegant world that she knew the truth and
they did not. As her fingers felt fine fabrics, as she ate luxu-
rious food, as she enjoyed each and every refinement of her
privileged life, part of her was on the ground rutting with
Will, her cheek pressed in the dirt and his cock hard and
arrogant shafting her from the rear in the hot public gaze.
She could remember the texture of his wiry chest,
muscled under its leather straps. She could remember the
sheen of firelight on his greasy breeks, how the bulges of
his manhood were revealed. She could remember the fiery
sweetness of his mouth and the rich musk of his groin. His
skin was scarred and pitted. One eye was blind. Tattered
elf-locks hung like Medusa's snakes from his head.
She longed to rake him with her nails and feel his
calloused hands mastering her body. She felt none of the
soft fawnlike devotion that made Janine melt and blush
every time she saw Rollo. Instead she felt the fierce longing
to abase herself, debase herself, and be purified by lust in
the savage domination of her violent lover.
Even as these feelings washed through her, some kernel
of good sense, a latent desire for self-protection, knew that
she could play with fire and risk a little burning, but really
she had too much to lose. Even as the danger attracted
her, so she must plan to replace it with something new,
something spicy, something not quite so frightening.
Diana, big, warm and womanly. Janine, sweet, girlish and
infinitely appealing.
73

These were new fields to explore, new sensations to
experience. Rollo's lack of interest had launched her on a
strange journey and she would not shrink from what she
discovered along the way.
She tapped on the door to Janine's suite and entered it.
Her welcome dispelled any qualms of conscience she
might have regarding her inteference in the girl's sexual
development. Janine was a ripe fruit waiting to be plucked,
crushed, split and sucked. Let Rollo sample her ruptured
sweet moistness, if he would. Far better it was him than
some other man not appreciating the prize he had, or too
cold-hearted to reward Janine's warmth and eagerness
with a like enthusiasm. As Janine's arms went round her
in welcome, Fiona reflected that there was plenty for them
all.
Janine kissed her mistress with saucy confidence. Their
tongues met and mixed and for a while they did nothing
except taste one another and explore mouth to mouth.
Fiona drew back at last and slipped off her robe. In her
turn Janine took off her pastel slip with red love hearts all
over it, and the two women were nude together.
There was something lovely in their bodies being essen-
tially the same shape, yet such a variation on a theme.
Janine took one of Fiona's breasts in her hands and began
to examine it in frank detail, feeling its weight and shape,
its undercurve and long, elastic nipple. In her turn Fiona
took one of Janine's breasts in her hands. It was smaller
and firmer than her own, the muscles more springy with
youth. She touched her nipple with Janine's and the girl
laughed and they were content to play like this for a while.
Then Fiona dropped her dark head and began to suck
Janine's nipple.
'That's so good,' whispered Janine.
Fiona treated both breasts alike and submitted to the
same caress from Janine.
'Suck harder,' she ordered gently.
'Doesn't it hurt when I do it that hard?'
'I like my baths stinging, my food spicy and my sucking
74

firm. It's all a matter of taste. As you get older, you like
your experience to be more intense. I'm twice your age,
Janine.'
Then Fiona suggested they varied what they did a little.
'I want to play between your legs,' she said. Her eyes were
slitted as she watched Janine, waiting for her response.
Each time she was bolder, coarser with the girl, she
watched to see if Janine recoiled.
Not yet.
'Won't it hurt me?' Janine was wide-eyed and curious
but she certainly was not disgusted.
'I'll leave your pussy alone. The inside of it, I mean.
That's for Rollo and I don't intend to spoil what you are
going to offer to him.'
Janine blushed and her eyes dropped. Fiona could see
that she loved to hear of her impending violation. Her
breasts rose and fell in her delicious agitation.
'You have a lot more sensory equipment down there
than what's inside you, sweetie.' Fiona's voice was low
and husky. 'Why don't we find out about it?'
Janine lay back, her pupils dilated and her eyebrows some-
where up at the top of her forehead. There was no way Fee
was going to admit that she herself was on new territory.
Moreover, her longing to feel Janine's private and personal
body was now so powerful that if she had been resisted, she
might have boxed the girl's ears and told her not to be so
stupid and bourgeois. Janine's malleability was useful, but
not in itself a turn-on for her. Fiona wanted a female body
to satiate her lust. She had no requirement for devotion.
She found she was trembling as Janine obligingly
opened her legs. She tried not to let her mounting excite-
ment show. She must remember to exercise restraint and
not get carried away and frighten the girl.
Fleetingly, as the stunning moist sweetness of Janine's
sex was revealed to her greedy eyes, she remembered Will,
dark and powerful and lacking in all restraint. Ah - that
was what it should be like between two lovers. It should
be fierce and abandoned, an animal coupling with the
added savour of human intelligence.
75

But for now, there was the sweet hors d'oeuvre of this
little untried female organ laid out for her delectation, her
secret pleasure. The girl was clay in her hands.
Fiona ran her hands up inside Janine's thighs and felt
them quiver. They were faintly dusted with soft hairs,
thickening to make the ripe curly mat that framed her
pussy. Fiona felt and tickled the soft hair.
'Do you like that?' she murmured.
'I feel strange inside.'
Fiona caught her lower lip between her teeth. As gently
as she might separate two leaves of gold foil, she picked
apart the slightly sticky labia and for the first time caught
the faint, sweet new mown hay smell of Janine's open sex.
It quivered before her eyes and she did not know whether
Janine moved or her own vision was blurring in her intense
excitement. She felt a pulse between her own legs and she
knew sharply how she would love to do what she was
doing whilst a man shafted her own urgent sex. Her lips
curled into a smile at the thought. She ran her fingers
round the entrance to Janine's body and imagined how, if
she had a penis, she would thrust the big hard thing in,
riving the reluctant flesh and making it fit to be used, to
be enjoyed and in its turn to enjoy.
She ran her fingers up and down the lovely place,
wetting them with her mouth to make them slide more
easily, and gently pressing them against the little entrance.
She licked them again, her pointed tongue dark against
the bright rosy colour of Janine's sexual parts, and then
she uncloaked Janine's clitoris and began to frot the tiny
soldier.
'What's that?' gasped Janine.
'Like it?'
'It's incredible.'
^Have you never played with yourself down here?'
'No, never. Oh,' shrieked Janine. 'That's so good.'
Fiona suddenly bent her dark head and put her tongue
where her fingers had been. Janine gasped and went rigid.
Then her breath hissed as her back arched, Fiona's hair
warm between her thighs.
76

Fee had never in her life tasted anything so wild and
sweet and ambrosial as the virgin musk of Janine's untried
vagina. She was a woman who adored the powerful thick
taste of a man in climax, it feeding her imagination and
her sexual drive in equal parts. But Janine was like the
wild rose hip, tangy-sweet and good. Indeed, the girl was
a briar-rose, simple and naive and natural, not yet bent to
a man's hand.
She sucked the tiny clitoris and vibrated her tongue
against it and then closed her mouth over Janine's en-
trance and began to suck hard. It was a moment before
she realised she might break the fragile membrane in her
greediness, and she tore her mouth away from the virgin
wine lest she should spoil things for Rollo, coming after
her to sample this place.
It was hard not to laugh out loud.
She released the girl and sat up. Janine was panting, her
pretty little-girl breasts heaving.
'Did you like that?' asked Fiona. Her voice was low and
mellow, her tones honied.
'It embarrasses me,' said Janine. 'Your mouth, down
there.'
'Do you want to do it to me?'
'Yes.'
The slight note of reluctance in Janine's voice pleased
Fiona. She worked her way on to the bed and lay back,
her legs drifting apart.
She closed her eyes. 'Now, Janine, you must do just what
you want to do. Don't be afraid of anything. Explore all
you want. Know no boundary. Go inside me, if you want.
You have the freedom to do anything. You can't hurt me
or offend me or embarrass me. I long for you to know
what you want to know, child. It is a privilege for me to
help you overcome your ignorance and your fears.' Fiona's
voice was like thick cream, richly inviting, caressing, warm
and permissive.
First Janine laid a hesistant and slightly moist palm over
Fiona's depilated mound, as Fee had known she would.
Janine fingered it and palmed it and laid her cheek on its
77

satin smoothness. She ran her tongue over it and dried it
with her hair. Then she slid her fingers on down into the
dark exciting wet crevice below the gleaming magnolia
dome.
Fee kept her eyes shut. The shaking fingers were naive
as they explored through her long weaving walls of erotic
flesh, but they were fresh and delicious and she felt
transported with pleasure. This business with women was
wonderful, yet she was assured of her own heterosex-
uality at the same time, for even as Janine pried into her
most intimate orifice, even as the girl's fingers slid within
her hot, succulent, experienced crotch, she dreamed of
having a man's hardness at this very moment deep in her
throat that she might suck it as her pussy was invaded.
Her fantasy was rudely broken by Janine withdrawing
and beginning to cry.
'What is it?' asked Fiona, injecting concern into her voice
to overlay the impatience at the interruption.
'I knew there was something wrong with me. You are
so large. I haven't played with myself, honestly Mrs
Cambridge, but of course I have felt myself when I'm
dealing with, you know . . .'
'Yes. But what's wrong?'
'I'm too small. I'm not normal. No wonder I am so afraid
of men. Mr Cambridge will laugh at me if he ever tries to
get inside me and he'll think I am just stupid and not
properly made.'
She was really crying now. Fiona cast about in her mind
for some way of convincing Janine of her normality.
'Listen to me,' she commanded sharply. Janine sniffed
and her shoulders shook. Her eyes were already reddened
and she looked pathetic as a lost puppy-dog.
'I'll prove you are perfect,' said Fee. 'Just give me a
moment.'
Janine stared at her doggily, hope in her damp eyes as
she cast round the room. Then she found what she was
looking for and she came back to the bed. She held in one
hand a slim penlight torch, maybe three-quarters of an
inch in diameter.
78

She held it up before the puzzled girl. The tearstreaks
down her face gave her a woeful appearance. Fee smiled
reassuringly.
'You know what homosexual men get up to/ she said
in a pleasant brisk voice.
Janine writhed. 'Yes. Sort of.'
'What orifices they use, not having a woman's parts.'
'Well, as far as I know, their mouths and, er, their
bottoms/ said Janine. She giggled uncomfortably.
'Right. Now trust me. I won't hurt you but you will be
surprised and you might not like it. Turn round and go
on your hands and knees.'
Obedient to the last, Janine did so. Fiona found some
cream and greased the penlight.
'Relax, now/ she said.
She nuzzled the thin greasy tube at Janine's trembling
bottom. With the fingers of one hand she tried to hold
open the tight pucker of flesh as she attempted to slip the
penlight inside. She pushed and Janine squeaked with
horror. The very end, the narrowest part, had penetrated
Janine and now the penlight projected from between her
quivering buttocks.
Fiona resisted a surprising urge to thrust the thing
brutally in.
'Do you want me to push it any further in?' she asked.
'No/ said a muffled voice. 'I don't like it.'
Fiona took one last regretful look at the instrument held
in place by Janine's locked bottom, shaking slightly as the
girl herself shook, and removed it.
Janine turned round, her face crimson.
'Look/ said Fee. 'That's how far it went in.' She showed
Janine where the thickish cream was pushed back and
wiped off by the restriction of the girl's tight valve.
Fee smiled. 'You see, when a man is homosexual, he likes
to be penetrated that way. His rear gets softer and looser
and he learns to admit even the gross inflamed penis of
his male lover. An erect penis can be a very thick long
thing, yet he takes it greedily up into himself because that's
what turns him on. Even heterosexual men like a finger
79

invading their backside. Well, many of them do. They find
it sexy and stimulating if a woman puts a finger up their
backside and moves it about a little. Women like it, too. I
do. Feel me. Remember, I like it.'
She turned over and presented her rear to Janine. She
knew her own puckered skin was dark like her nipples
and that a wisp of hair still remained in the crevice between
her cheeks.
She felt the hard penlight begin its violation of her rear.
Janine pushed and Fiona relaxed her muscles and felt the
lovely intrusion, the stretch of wall as it expanded to admit
the invader.
She clamped her muscles tightly. Janine gasped and let
go. Now it was Janine's turn to see the torch trembling,
held by muscle power, projecting absurdly outwards.
Fee rolled on to her side with the penlight still sticking
out of her arse. She rubbed it slightly on the bed so that
it thrust a little further in. She tingled delightfully within.
'I'm tight,' she said. 'I'm not as tight as you, though. I
like to be entered like this. I like a finger inside me. Rollo's
finger,' she added slyly. 'He likes it, too. He likes doing it
to me and me doing it to him. And because I occasionally
do this, have this done to me, I am looser. I can accommo-
date the invasion. My backside has expanded and grown
used to being entered. And that is exactly what will
happen with that sweet little unused entrance of yours. It
is made to receive an erect penis, full of lovely expanding
flesh that will fit all sizes and lengths and give a man
pleasure whether he is big or small. That little cunt of
yours,' Fiona chose the word deliberately, 'will cling to his
cock and he will love it. You begin small and tight but you
get bigger and more elastic. Once your membrane is
broken by Rollo, you will hunger for big sex. There is
nothing abnormal about you, Janine. I promise.'
Janine sat for a while, considering. Fee felt she had been
rather clever and was conscious of smugness. She slipped
the penlight out of her rear.
Janine peeped up shyly from under her hair. 'I've been
silly, haven't I?' she said.
80

'Go down on me, sweetheart,' said Fiona huskily. She
couldn't wait any longer.
That first time a woman laid her mouth against her
intimate flesh and kissed her and sucked her juices, Fiona
would never forget. Janine knew little of what pleased, but
she was aroused herself and going quite well on instinct.
She had none of the knowledgeable skills of Rollo and nor
had she the ferocious expertise of the pirate, but she had
a quality that all Fiona's male lovers had lacked, something
indefinable, something that could only have existed be-
tween two women.
It was strange, because Fiona was not adulterous by
nature. She would have remained satisfied with Rollo had
he continued their early vigorous and innovative sexual
life. There had been men in her life before Rollo but they
were pale and insignificant besides the fires of her passion
for and with him.
The pirate had been her first infidelity. Janine was her
second. She lay dazed with pleasure as Janine's tongue ran
up and down the length of her slit, thrusting carefully
between the fleshy lobes and occasionally penetrating the
outer reaches of her pussy.
Then the two of them came together and held each other
sleepily in their arms. They kissed fondly. Fiona was
surprised at the real affection she was beginning to feel.
'Have you been happy tonight?' she asked.
'Yes, I have, Mrs Cambridge.'
'Do you want to do this again?'
'Yes, I do.'
'I'll make sure you get Rollo, I promise.'
'Won't you be jealous?'
'That's not your problem. I don't mind if he synchs with
you. You deserve it. I'm very fond of you.'
Janine sighed, blurry with sleep. Fiona kissed her one
last time and slid from the bed.
The plan was going well.
81

Chapter Seven
S
he needed a gun. She would have preferred to make a
simulacrum but she did not have the resources nor the
engineering skill. In the end she joined a gun club and
acquired the real thing.
It was old-fashioned because handguns weren't made
any more and their only legitimate use was in gun clubs
where devotees practised ancient skills, firing at targets.
The gun was heavy, a Smith and Wesson revolver with
an action so stiff that Fiona was hopeless unless she cocked
it first. With the hammer back it had a hair trigger. She
learned to fire it rapidly by knocking the hammer back
with her left hand and firing it almost instantaneously with
her right. It was not much different from what had been
used two hundred years previously when the West was
wild. There were handguns, both revolvers and automat-
ics, in dwindling numbers in the criminal world, but they
were all museum pieces, really. The police used cryogen
sprays, as fine as lasers, that literally caused their victims
to 'freeze', albeit temporarily.
But if Fiona was to be a pirate, she needed a gun.
Captam Will Kid had laughed in her face and dismissed
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her desire to be a pirate as absurd. It rankled. What had
originated as a half-sexual desire to join in on a raid had
become a dedicated ambition. She would hack a car. She
would be a pirate herself.
The decision to go ahead alone cleansed her somehow of
the toxins in her blood, toxins that had built up from years
of easy living, shopping, watching the Screen, years of
smothering boredom. In some strange way it validated her
new sexual liberation, her exploration of deviant carnality.
They were bound up together, this manipulation of
husband and virgin, this manipulation of self and danger.
She was risking everything she cared for and it was
glorious.
She knew she would go back to find Will. She wanted
a trophy. She wanted a hacking.
She bought a bigger knife and a pair of close-fitting
untearable gloves. She acquired some very specialist hard-
ware. And she got the gun.
One night she was ready. She let Rollo knock himself
out with his pill and then she slipped into a pair of man's
trousers and a black over-sweater. She wore soft black
shoes and a black sack jacket that masked her curves. She
put her little interceptor computer into a knapsack and
fastened it on to her back. She wore a mask that shrouded
her hair and upper face and she pulled a cap low over it.
She looked like a slim man, not very tall.
She let herself out of her house and into her hangar. She
kissed her smoky-brown gleaming machine as she went
by and then let herself out onto its darkened ramp. She
could not use the lit moving walkways. They were not
only patrolled, they had scanner cameras trained on them.
But she had devised a route by which she could get out
and away unseen.
She climbed the sides of the ramp and went over the
edge until she could drop on to the netting over the Zoo.
Full-size trees were growing beneath it and so she was
very high in the dark night. She felt the rising warmth
from the sleeping jungle and some night thing shrieked in
the canopy as she passed.
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She travelled for some two miles across the rigid steel
wire, moving as quietly as she was able. Since the apart-
ments that she and her friends lived in were totally
burglarproof, calibrated to their owners' DNA, this area
was not guarded. She kept clear of the occasional house
domes, some still lit, that she saw below her amongst the
vegetation. Their yellow light spilled upwards turning the
black trees brilliant emerald. The glass was polarised so
that she could not see in, but they would be able to see
out. She was careful to keep in the dark.
At the edge of the Zoo she dropped down to the ground.
Away to her left were the dim rows of hydroponics houses
where the food that fed them all was grown under
controlled conditions. It was forbidden to take food in
animal or vegetable form, from the wild.
She was in nowhere land. Before her the ground dropped
away and the city lay in urban liquefaction, a desolate tired
open sore belonging to a former age but not yet quite
withered away. It stretched like an ill-lit smear to the far
horizon. All that was bright and clean was concentrated
into the brilliant bands of light that were the great
highways cutting the sky like lasers above the city. Each
carried its cargo of shrieking superautos, a million credits
of the most sophisticated technology known to man. Even
the space stations hanging up there in the magnetosphere
were not more complex in their engineering.
She would hack one. If she failed tonight, she would be
back. And then back again until she succeeded. Only then
would she stop.
Fee began to trot downhill towards the city.
She did not go to where she had found the pirates on
the previous occasion she had entered the city. She stopped
short at another great glittering chemoconcrete wall with
soaring graceful lines, rising to support the mighty high-
way above. She was dwarfed into insignificance here in
its shadows.
Her opinion of the pirates, already high, rose higher. She
had to climb this support wall. From her knapsack she
took gravgrabs. Deep in the heart of the chemically-bonded
84

silica wall were iron girders. Her gravgrabs were electro-
magnets. She would walk up the wall.
She put the first one against the wall, its rubber skirting
sealing it. It was heavy. In the handle was a button and
when she pressed the button the electromagnet hummed
into life and locked solid against the wall. Unless the
current was interrupted it would tear the fabric of the wall
before it failed to grip.
She put the second gravgrab against the wall above the
first and switched it on. She tried to keep her feet against
the wall so she did not hang, but it was with difficulty that
she released the first gravgrab and swung it up and
reclamped it.
Press, release, move up, press, release, move up - she
was in agony after a few minutes and the wall towered
above her. Captain Kid had said you needed to be strong
and she had laughed at him.
A third of the way up. She trembled at the drop below
her and her muscles were in agony. Hanging from one
arm she reached carefully into her coat pocket and took
out the harness. She was sobbing as she connected it to
the gravgrabs. Then she slid her exhausted body into its
uncomfortable embrace and hung there, supported against
the cold quartz wall by slings, her arms no longer taking
the strain but resting.
She stayed there a very long time, deciding whether to
go up or down. Finally she went on up, more from a stupid
and exhausted obstinacy than for any rational reason. There
was no rationality to what she was doing and she knew it.
She rested again. Then she went up again. It took her
two hours to reach the top and she hadn't even started
what she meant to do. She was merely getting into
position. She was awash with sweat and trembling with
fatigue. Above her, the fence leaned out into the night.
She sat in her slings and threw her grappling iron at the
top of the fence. She counted her throws. It took her
twenty-five shots before the metal prongs engaged and she
could pull down on the rope and feel it hold. She found
she didn't want to leave the gravgrabs and slings. Sud-
85

denly they were safe and familiar. But finally she did,
abandoning them there in the meantime, and allowing
herself to swing sickeningly out into emptiness before she
could climb the rope. She had professional climbing
equipment for this but it was still terrible.
She reached the top of the fence and climbed over it.
Suddenly she was safe, on the now-favourable slope, and
she was able to scramble down till she stood on the
highway itself.
An auto screamed by, scaring the wits out of her. She
might as well try to stop a rocket. None the less she
huddled tightly against the fence, having first checked that
she was not so unlucky as to land by a security camera.
That was why she could not walk along the highway. Not
only was it dangerous, but the frequent monitoring would
have exposed her long before she was in place.
She set up her little computer and switched it on. The
infrared cells would give her only two or three tries and
she had no means of recharging them from a heat source
up here.
It was cold as the sweat dried on her. The wind was an
enemy this high up, pulling her and disorienting her with
its unfamiliar malevolent strength.
Another car screamed by, scything the night with its
power and invulnerability.
Only they weren't invulnerable. You could hack into
them if you knew how.
Fiona forgot about the wind and the danger. She huddled
protectively over her little computer and began to feed in
the programme. Her hands flickered sensitively over the
keys, adjusting as she went. It was blueprint-dedicated,
something she had invented herself. That would place her
chances of success infinitely higher than the pirates, who,
no doubt, had to use general-ability, non-specific machines.
Moreover, her programme was roughed to match the
Connet already, using her remembered knowledge from
when she herself had worked for the automanufacturers.
It was not so very different from an old-time burglar
turning the tumblers of a safe by ear and experience.
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A car was coming. Fiona could see it miles away if she
cared to look. Instead, she concentrated on intercepting its
developing signal with her computer.
The car came closer and closer. She did not look up. Data
flashed across her screen and she read it at the best speed
she could manage. As she decoded, she adjusted the
programme, fine-tuning it. For a split second she caught
the diagrammatic representation of a circuit board in
flow-mode and her screen blanked as it overloaded with
data.
The car passed its signal fading, and her screen came
alive again with her programme rough on it.
She needed more power, more time. It was impossible.
She shook herself mentally. Connets weren't shielded.
They wouldn't work if they were shielded. Therefore they
radiated their precise electromagnetic signal. Fee had
already roughed in the frequency-variation pattern within
which all Connet cars came. Each car was individual but
it had to lie within certain parameters and those she knew
about. She had to decode the signal as a car passed, retune
her own computer so that it was a precise match and then
instruct the car to come to a halt. The Connet couldn't even
recognise that the signal was coming from the outside. All
it knew was that suddenly it had two sets of instructions
and they didn't match. So it melted down.
Like a ray of light Fiona understood how a car should
be hacked. She had known all along, only she had not
worked it through and seen the consequences.
She didn't need to issue stopping instructions. She could
preset any instruction without even knowing what it was.
Two sets of instructions regardless of their content, would
induce meltdown. The car would stop automatically.
She let the next car go by whilst she reprogrammed.
Now, as soon as she matched signal, her machine would
fire a random instruction, the one nearest the frequency
pattern to use least time. She had only half the work she
had thought she had.
The screen began to flicker and break up. Another car
was coming, its signal overriding her programme and
87

distorting it. Once more her fingers danced over the keys
as she tried to find and match patterns. Gradually it began
to fall into place. As she decoded each part it stabilised on
her screen, losing its eye-bending jigger.
She was sweating under her mask when her ears tuned
to a new noise. She concentrated on the computer but the
noise was intrusive. Suddenly she woke up to what it was.
A helicopter. The SkyPolice. She slammed the off-button,
losing all the ground she had gained, and bent her body
over as close to the fence as she could get, resisting the
impulse to look up. The SkyPolice used normal vision as
well as infrared and ultraviolet. They might actually see
her.
The car she had been attempting to hack whistled by
harmlessly. The sound of the copter increased to a roar
and then passed on.
It was some time before Fiona unfurled herself. Her heart
was pounding. It occurred to her to get out whilst she still
could. Capture would mean mandatory prison. The rest
of her life.
Several cars went by at spaced intervals whilst she
crouched recovering her nerve. Then she decided. She
would try once more. After the horrors of this night she
would never again get up nerve and strength enough.
Once more and she would feel she could honourably give
up and go home.
Again she played the keys, immediately absorbed and
forgetful of all else. The pattern fell into place section by
section. She became faster, she knew almost in advance.
Part of her was laughing, exulting at how close she was
coming with this one. Soon she would be safe and could
go-
Unbelievably a car was stopping. She stared at the screen,
stable at last, the unique pattern displayed. She looked up
as the beautiful sleek blue tube halted and settled on its
airpads.
Fiona stood up, putting the little computer off. Before
she did so, she saw the pattern waver and fragment and
drip, viruslike, off the screen. The Connet was no more,
88

physically melted into a meaningless dead jumble of
electronic fragments.
Fiona slid the computer into her knapsack and took out
a laser pencil. She walked across to the car and broke the
lock. She couldn't take the passenger captive but she could
retrieve some trophy from the car, something to take to
Will, something to prove what she had done.
Another car whistled harmlessly by, automatically put-
ting itself into a different lane since this one was obstructed.
Its passenger would not even know an act of piracy was
being committed.
Her passenger would, though. She was trying not to
laugh as she reached to open the door, fumbling with her
other hand for her gun. She had no ammunition, of course.
It was a shock, then, when she saw across the curving roof
another gun, its wicked black eye pointing at her.
All she could see were the arms that held it, its shining
smug menace and the top of the one that threatened her,
a dark featureless head. She swallowed, her throat sud-
denly dry.
'This one's mine,' she said, trying to make her voice
guttural and deep. It was peculiar with fear.
'Back,' said a male voice.
She backed until she was against the fence. Immediately
two figures appeared from either side and held her. They
removed her gun and knapsack. The man who had
threatened her now had the passenger out of the car.
There were more pirates. Swiftly they forced the terrified
passenger into a large bodybag and manhandled it to the
fence. They could all hear the whirr of the returning
helicopter. The bag was run up the fence and then the
captured passenger was lowered with terrifying speed. He
vanished down into the night, plummeting earthwards.
Two of the pirates followed him, abseiling down the rope.
Now Fiona was hustled up the fence. She was on the
rope with a gun in her face. She grasped the metal clip
and shot downwards after the others. Her bladder felt close
to collapse with fear. If the police had taken her she would
have spent a long time in prison, unless she could plead
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some temporary mental aberration and get off. But these
men might kill her. And they would certainly assault her.
Jokes with Diana were one thing but real gang rape was
quite another.
How far did Will's jurisdiction extend? Could she get to
him?
She could scarcely remember the drop to the ground, she
was so out of her mind with fear. What craziness had
brought her here? Was she so bored she would throw it
all away, all her life, Rollo, everything? Skelton. She had
called herself Skelton after the wicked Barbara Skelton.
Wicked Barbara Skelton had turned highwaywoman and
died of a bullet fired by the man she loved.
At the bottom she was struck from the rope and her
hands dragged behind her and manacled. They still didn't
know she was a woman, though they would find out soon
enough.
Someone lifted a slab out of the ground and they all went
down into the hole. The bodybag with the unfortunate
victim was lowered and the slab replaced and with two
of the pirates carrying the victim, they set off along an
ill-lit stinking wet tunnel.
A gun prodded Fiona in the back and she stumbled along
as best she could. There were six men in the pack, all
powerful in build, dressed in leathers with the cross-strap-
ping over their powerful naked chests that was stylistically
the pirates' own uniform. Some were tattooed, their
muscular arms embellished with dragons and the skull
and crossbones. They all had shaggy hair and wild dark
faces.
Despite herself, Fiona's spirits began to rise. In a rough
way they were attractive men. They looked fierce but not
mad and there was discipline in their behaviour. Maybe
she would be ransomed like the poor mutt in the bodybag.
Now they knew her to be unarmed, surely they would not
execute her out of hand?
How would she explain being captured, if she was
ransomed?
Side passages led off. The band stopped and two differ-
90

ent men took the bodybag. For a moment they were all
busy. Suddenly Fiona ran to one side and jumped down
several steps. She staggered, regaining her balance, and
then doubled low and ran fast, weaving as she went. She
was an expert runner. She swerved to her right and went
on down the new tunnel fast. She heard a bullet whang
beside her. Not for them automatic sighting. They had to
rely on skill and in the poor light that wasn't enough.
Cursing her manacles she ran on, settling to a steady
speed that she knew she could maintain. If only she dared
to stop she could step through her manacles and get her
hands in front of her.
Brickwork chipped close to her as another bullet missed.
There were more side passages and she went along them,
turning as often as she could in an effort to shake off
pursuit.
She was tiring. Her muscles had already undergone
strenuous activity that night. It was not good underfoot as
broken bricks from the crumbling hundred-year-old walls
formed a loose rubble over a slimy undersurface. She
blundered round a corner and saw rats.
Their eyes were tiny gleams of light, their sleek bodies
adapted to the dark wet conditions as her own was not.
She stifled rising panic. They were mammals like herself,
intelligent and adaptable. It was just that they had adapted
to living in filth and it was natural to the human mammal
to fear the rare creature that failed to fear it.
They scattered slowly as she went on through them. In
the bad old days people used to die from rat bites. Was
that still true? She didn't know. She could hear no one
behind her now and then she saw metal rungs set into the
Wall leading upwards. So what if they were rusted and
untrustworthy. There must be another manhole up there
and after the risks she had already undergone that night,
a broken rung was trivial.
She needed her arms. Fee sat down bringing her linked
hands under her backside to behind her knees. She was
mtent on doubling a leg to get it through the chain when
she heard something and pain exploded in her face.
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She fell back against the wall in shock. All she could
think about was her face. She blinked her eyes and was
aware that she had both of them still. She worked her
mouth. It was painful but her tongue moved and she could
not taste blood. It was her cheek. She had had a bullet
graze her face. Now she could feel it stinging and the hot
flow of blood beneath her mask.
The men came up towards her. She got her hands in
front of her and staggered to her feet. The first one reached
her and hit her so that she struck the wall. Her shoulder
was grabbed and she was heaved up and punched in the
stomach.
She doubled over, gasping and wheezing for breath,
unable to claim the immunity of her sex. But then they
tore off her headgear and the black mass of her hair
tumbled free about her bloody face.
'Christ/ said one of the men. 'It's a woman.'
They backed off slightly and watched her curiously as
she stood, trying not to snivel, gradually straightening
herself as the pain eased in her guts. The tension came out
of them. She was no longer a threat but an object of
curiosity, something to turn over in their minds.
The three of them remained quietly together in the dim
yellow gloom of the festering tunnelway as if they were
the best of friends. Fiona felt their curiosity turn to
consideration. Each metal stud across their chests had a
pinpoint gleam of light, like the rat's eyes. They were
superlative men, raw, wild and making no concessions to
fear. Fiona's tongue came out and she licked her lips,
tasting the blood that trickled down one side of her face.
Unnoticed by her, the pain from the blow to her stomach
had been replaced by a manic fear, a sense of impending
crisis.
Each muscle in her body began to cramp, she stood so
still. Her heart pounded unevenly, painfully, in her chest.
The pain in her cheek was like a knifeblade twisted in
clean flesh.
Her breath rattled. The bigger of the two men smiled
and took a step towards her. She flinched back and he
92

laughed, grabbing the stuff of her clothes and tearing her
loose sack coat apart and off.
He tore the good material as if it had been paper.
He pulled up her over-sweater. It forced her manacled
arms up and her chin went up also as she nerved herself.
Both men looked at her naked breasts speculatively. They
hung full and heavy, a rich curve below each one, the dark
nipples pointing in arrogant welcome towards the watch-
ers. The thieves. The pirates. Fiona's breath suddenly
sobbed into her lungs and her breasts moved, alive, a touch
of exotic body-perfume underlying the smell of fresh sweat
and the rank odour of fear.
The big man used her rucked over-sweater to trap her
arms and then he caught her trousers at her hips and
pulled them roughly down. She screamed and he cuffed
her, quite amiably, across the good side of her face. Then
he pushed her head down to his crotch and held it pressed
against him. The other man went round to her rear.
Fiona began to shake. She felt the rough insertion of an
exploratory finger. I don't believe this, she thought to
herself. This isn't happening. Then her whole body jerked
and she would have fallen save that the big man held her
and steadied her.
A thief's hard-on, stealing her inner space, stealing her
sex and its warm welcoming juices ready to flow for the
right man. Her body knew no difference and Fiona found
herself impaled whilst a man rutted against her. Her eyes
were shut and she smelt man-smell from the groin of the
one who held her. Each jerk of the thieving body at her
rear made her cheek sting. Each thrust sliced pain at her
cheek bone. She felt the blood flow, salt tears adding to
the agony, and she felt her treacherous body warm and
lubricate until the pain was like the shout of orgasm
racking her body.
The man holding her dropped to his knees and forced
her face up until he could trap her mouth with his, his
hands running under her to hold her swinging breasts,
taking her body as it shook to the assault from his partner.
Fiona felt the heat and the power of the two men, one at
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each end of her body, and suddenly she submitted, not
through fear, not through common sense, but to the
demands her own sexual engine made on her to enjoy
herself, to take what was offered, to turn the rape of her
body into her own rape of experience.
Her mouth worked and she felt the shock of the man
kissing her.
The one at her back finished and slid his satisfied member
out of her body. He stood up and stretched with pleasure,
fastening his clothes. The big one stood her up and let go
of her.
Her hair was as wild as the pirates' own, her face
crimson-black on one side with spilt blood. Her jumper
was caught at her armpits and her hands were fastened
in front of her body, bunching her full breasts and
deepening the valley between them. Her legs were slightly
straddled for balance, her trousers caught down about her
knees, and for the first time both men saw the pale base
of her belly where she should have been black and hairy.
The big man ran a calloused hand up her thigh, their
eyes meeting.
'Let me go,' said Fiona huskily. She made no move to
escape his slow intimate investigation of her body.
Wordlessly he shook his head, the corners of his mouth
curling up slightly at her foolishness. The side of his hand
entered her vulva and pressed up into it. His thumb
stroked across her depilated mound.
Fiona widened her stance very slightly. 'Afterwards,' she
said.
'I can't do it, sister,' he said without regret. 'I can't let
you go.'
He spun her round and her head was once more pushed
down. Now the smaller man held and steadied her in her
bent-over position. She felt the big man's prick enter her,
easily as she was so wet, and he began in a leisurely way
to take his pleasure.
It had never happened to her before. She had never
received two men, one after the other, like this. She felt
the enormous strangeness, the newness, of a full cock in
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her spunk-soaked body, a different cock. When it bloomed
and she was filled over again with male wetness, she felt
a melting weakness, a disabling desire to curl up and
worship at their two dissimilar temples of phallic pleasure.
Her personality fled, she was all body, all opening, ready
to receive and receive again a man's demand and turn it
to her own deep satisfaction.
They pulled her clothes roughly together and took her
rubbery compliant body between their own and ran her
back along the tunnels, through the watching rats, till they
arrived at their pirate nest, down here in the black bowels
of the earth.
95

Chapter Eight
T
he room was warm, well lit, and dingily furnished
with a large table in the centre. Food and drink, among
other things, were on the table. People sat around or stood
propped in corners, all pirates and some women.
At the head of the table, dominating the room, sat Will,
Captain Kid.
'Hey Will,' said one of Fiona's captors. 'We got us a
poacher.'
'So I heard.' Will's voice was a lazy rumble.
'Take a look at this.' He stepped aside and the other man
pushed Fiona into the room, in amongst them. She heard
the concerted hiss of their indrawn breath and tossed her
hair back defiantly. She met Will's gaze. She saw his eyes
darken as his pupils dilated in shock.
She took two steps forward. No one stopped her. She
held her body as proudly as she could, shoulders well
back. She smiled.
Will absorbed her man's clothing, her wild hair and her
bloody cheek. His eyes went slowly up and down the
length of her.
'Well, well,' he said softly.
96

'I said I could do it.'
'You stopped the car with this?' He gestured at her
computer on the table beside him.
She nodded, still smiling. There was wet warmth be-
tween her legs under her clothes. She wondered what Will
would have to say about that, when he knew.
Will sighed and tapped the table. 'You were on my
territory,' he said.
'I'm a thief. I don't have to ask permission where I
thieve.'
'You are quite wrong about that. You've made a very
big mistake.'
'I don't hear you.' Fiona injected contempt into her voice.
'A bullet did that to you?'
'Yes.'
'Another can put paid to your damned insolence.'
The indifference in his voice made her angry. 'Do it,' she
challenged.
The tension in the room was electric. Will stood up with
the easy grace of a big cat, supremely confident. He came
up to her, towering over her, and looked down into her
slitted eyes, laughing at her defiance as if it was no more
than the bite of a fly. 'It would be a waste,' he acknow-
ledged.
She smiled in triumph.
'But I like to lay waste,' he added. 'I'm a pirate, remem-
ber.' His smile lacked warmth and Fee felt a trickle of fear.
'So am I, now,' she said, feeling her voice in danger of
cracking. She was exhausted. She couldn't take much more
of this.
Will looked round the room. 'We've met this lady before.
She and I have unfinished business.'
Someone said: 'We are all hungry men, Will.'
Their captain laughed. 'She's a meal that can satisfy more
than one, if I choose.' He felt some movement in Fee and
his eyes flicked first to her, then to her two captors.
There was a moment's silence.' 'We didn't know you
knew her,' said one of them. There was no discernible
emotion in his voice.
97

'She's the foreign bitch/ came a shrill shout suddenly.
Mammet had recognised her. She jerked forward and was
restrained by the man beside her, her new lover from the
night of the bonfire.
'She's put herself outside the rules/ said Will in a flat
voice. 'I'll deal with her.'
He hustled her through to another room and then
through that to a bedroom. They were alone and Fiona
felt overcome with weakness. She went ahead of Will and
sat on the bed. She tried to make her brain work but she
was too tired.
Will came over and sat beside her. He put one finger
under her chin and lifted her face so that their eyes met.
She controlled herself so that hers did not slide away. The
eye-patch remained anonymous, cold.
'Where are you from?'
'Take these chains off me.'
'I ask the questions, you answer them. Where are you
from?'
She remained silent.
'Do I have to hurt you?'
'No.'
'How did you know how to stop a car?
'I'm a good hacker.'
'That's obvious/ he acknowledged patiently. She was
only just becoming aware of the mental and psychic
strength of the man, a match for his great muscular body.
'But it takes resources as well as luck. The equipment you
carried was the best. Brand new. You've got money.
You've got class. Where are you from?'
Still she didn't answer. She could not cudgel her brain
to move, but something moved within her, knowledge and
cunning at work on some more atavistic level than she had
known she possessed.
He came astride her so that she fell back on the bed with
him leaning over her. He put a hand in her hair. The glitter
in her hard eyes softened and she knew within herself how
much she wanted him. It pleased her that she lay beneath
him in her sweat and dirt, on a stale bed in a converted
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sewer. The man over her had threatened to kill her. She
was manacled and helpless against him. No friend of hers
knew where she was.
Yet she was subduing him. Her own luscious body,
damaged and abused beneath his, meant more to him than
all his threats, more than anything. In her way she was
winning this exchange, exhausted though she was. Power
surged through her.
Deliberately he stripped her of everything, jumper, trou-
sers, shoes, pants, using his knife to cut her clothes away
from her body till it lay long and white beneath his. He
saw its narrow-waisted, full-breasted promise. He saw her
heavy large plum-coloured nipples, erect at the nearness
of his dominant body. She felt the air strike cool at the
wetness between her naked legs and hoped he would not
be put off because his men had used her before bringing
her to him, her rightful mate. She hoped he would punish
them for taking what was his, even if it was done in
ignorance.
She was all his. An unsteady flame burned in her. She
was crazy to have him in her. Her lips parted in expec-
tancy.
He put his two hands under her armpits and hefted her
to her feet. He gripped the chain that fastened her hands
and raised it. Before she had taken in what he was doing,
he lifted her slightly and dropped the chain over a large
hook driven into the ceiling. Then he let go of her and
stood back.
Her arms were raised high above her head and trapped
there, at the wrist, by the chain between her manacles now
caught on the hook. She could stand on the ground in her
bare feet, just. Her nakedness was all vulnerable, all
exposed.
Will walked round her and laughed. 'Very attractive,' he
said. He slid a rough warm hand down her back, into its
curve and out again over her bottom.
She wanted to sweat it out but her arms had taken too
much abuse that night, what with the climb up the wall
to the highway. 'You don't have to do this,' she said, her

voice honey-thick and low. 'You know I'll come to you
willingly.'
He was at her back. He reached round her and ran his
hand possessively up over her ribs and onto her breast.
She felt his lips on her shoulder and shut her eyes, dizzy
with relief. It was all right. Her body had won. Only
tiredness could have made her doubt such a thing.
'I know,' he said. 'Why?'
'I have to explain?' She caught the raggedness in her
tone. 'Synch with me. Match us. Do it.'
She couldn't believe it when he moved away. A cold
draught spilled into the room and she knew he had opened
the door. She couldn't bring herself to turn round where
she hung, in case he saw the defeat in her eyes.
When he came back he wasn't alone.
Will brought the girl in, a tiny thing with a mass of
tangled red hair and a waif-white face hidden within. A
rat's face, thought Fiona savagely, pointy and sly. If she
was free, she would have killed them both. She did not
believe she was capable of such anger. Her body shook
with it and the chain above her rattled, mocking her.
Will ignored her. He lay on the bed whilst the girl eagerly
stripped herself. Her body was red-fair and freckled with
bone-thin limbs and a flat arse more suited to a boy than
to a female. She peeped round through her mat of hair to
look at Fiona and she smiled. She had mud-coloured eyes,
light brown and stupid.
She began to undress Will where he lay slack in the
bedclothes. When he was bare she lowered her face over
his groin and Fee heard her mouth at him, heard the noises
she made exciting him. She sat back giggling and played
with her achievement, letting Fiona see what would be
hers to enjoy. Will's face was bland and blank. He did
nothing except submit to the girl's caresses. Then she raised
herself on her knees, astride his colossus, and lowered
herself with much shrieking and moaning over his erect
shaft. Again she peeped spitefully at Fiona and then she
laughed as she rode up and down on the quiescent man.
His body was unbelievably beautiful in the naked glory
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of its masculinity and power. Fiona hung weakly, crushed
by what he did to her, unable to tear her eyes away from
the thin squirming girl stealing his manhood and debasing
what she believed they had between them.
The red-haired girl screamed and lowered herself and
stroked Will's chest, rubbing her face in his chest hair. It
was only as she kissed his body that Fee realised he had
never laid his lips upon her.
Thank you,' he said coolly. It was a dismissal. The girl
climbed sulkily off him and ostentatiously opened her legs
so that for a moment Fee saw Will's spunk on her little
white thighs amidst the freckles and the red pubic hair.
She dressed, hooding her eyes and covertly watching
Fiona. Will lay supine, his eye all but closed, his used
member lolling against the dark, strong, curling hair on
his thigh.
Then the girl was gone. The silence stretched, longer and
longer.
Presently Will said: 'You are a rich bitch, aren't you? Out
slumming. Looking for a quick thrill down here in the dirt.
Getting your kicks in the raw.'
Fee didn't answer. She felt afraid. The contempt in his
voice stung worse than her open cheek.
'Did you go back last time and tell your girlfriends all
about your pirate lover?'
Fee licked her lips. 'No,' she said hoarsely.
The word hung between them. She understood now
what she meant to him but she felt no triumph. He could
master himself, master what he felt for her and subdue his
flesh as she could not. He was stronger than her.
He got off the bed at last and came over. He crouched
down beside her and with his two hands he encircled one
of her thighs. She felt his warmth close to the core of her
and was unable to control the surge of lust. He ran the
collar of his hands up and down her thigh quite slowly.
'Such a smooth body,' he murmured and he kissed her
thigh.
He released her and stood up. He faced her and Fee knew
he saw the tears that rolled silently down her face. He
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lowered his head and took one of her nipples in his mouth.
He rolled it round with his tongue and she could not tell
the salt tear in her bloody cheek apart from his hot mouth
at her breast.
'Will/ she sobbed.
He looked into her face and smiled at her. 'You can do
better than this, Skelton/ he said with gentle mockery.
'Does it take so little to subdue you?'
She ignored the pain in her arms. She swung her legs
up and gripped him around his waist, arching her back
so he staggered as her groin thrust into him. He laughed
and caught her up, flicking the chain off the hook. He
carried her over to the bed and threw her down on it. He
unlocked the handcuffs and kissed the inside of each wrist
where the metal had abraded her.
His body was fantastic, a powerhouse of raw muscle
alive with sexual mastery. His mouth closed on hers and
his stubble stung her broken cheek and made it bleed
again. He transferred his mouth and began to lick and suck
her blood.
Her body arched up under his as her need convulsed
through her and she laughed, feeling his hairy muscularity
all the long smooth length of her. He was erect already
and her rage and exhaustion were forgotten as her blood
sang with lust and excitement.
She pushed him away and swung her face down on his
glorious manhood. She laid her bloody cheek on his prick
and licked the red smear off.
'You're crazy/ he said. His thumb slid into her and she
groaned and bore down on his hand, her muscles gripping
him as she tried to masturbate on it. He pushed hard
fingers round between her buttocks and then drove one
into her rear entrance.
She gasped and jerked up from him, driving his thumb
deeper into her pussy. He kept his finger where it was in
her rear, pushing it further in though she tried to escape
him. He pinched his finger and thumb together so that he
could squeeze the wall of lightly-muscled inner flesh
between them, the wall of flesh that separated within her
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body her vagina from her rear passage. His other hand
held her breast and he kissed and sucked the nipple,
sucking it so hard it was drawn deep into his mouth.
She was beside herself, riven by his crude invasion of
both her places in one go. Her hands were meshed in his
hair and she knew his mastery of her was beyond wit and
cunning, beyond everything.
He released her so suddenly she fell forward on the bed.
He put his hands under her stomach and heaved her
backside in the air so that she was on her knees, her face
crushed into the bedclothes. He held her buttocks apart
with his two hands and drove into her.
For a moment she did not know what way he had
penetrated her. She was split, filled, heat boiling from his
source in her. Then she felt distinctly his knotted hardness
in her loins and without being able to control it she came,
instantly, a hot wet eruption of lust that bathed his swollen
shaft as it thundered into her.
He felt her tighten and slacken, felt the increase in
temperature and the slidiness of her orgasming hole.
'You hot bitch,' he said, and he drove into her sex, still
in spasm from her climax. She gritted her teeth and tried
to regain control, tried to milk him, pushing back against
him and feeling his balls swing warm and full against her.
She couldn't stop yelling. He was holding the cheeks of
her backside apart and it made her moan with joy that his
eyes feasted on the dark inner line in the cleft of her
buttocks, the soft crumpled flesh of her rear revealed even
as he worked himself deep inside her. She could feel him
build to climax, knew he knew she could feel him, knew
her own texture was changing as she became soft and
pulpy and thick, ready for his discharge. Then he ejected
into her and her muscles clamped tight on his cock as it
pulsed free of his sperm, his body jerking till it was empty.
She throbbed in response and at last he was still.
The room was redolent of their coupling. She could hear
their ragged breathing. He withdrew slowly, stretching out
the pleasure, and she felt a warm trickle slide from her
long dark purple slit down onto one white rounded thigh.
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She fell sideways on the bed and turned to him a face
dazed with passion. She moved her heavy thigh across and
lifted herself and bent over his crotch. Her tongue licked
through his wet pubic hair. She ran it down the length of
his love-shiny prick and laid her head on his thigh. Her
ice-green eyes were lust-darkened to emerald deepness.
He ruffled her black curls.
'What am I going to do with you?' he said.
'I have to spell it out?'
He drew her beside him where he lay and kissed her
mouth and eyes.
'You've broken the rules. I can't ignore it.'
'Do you usually do this with rule-breakers?'
He laughed. 'They are usually men.'
'Rules are made to be broken.'
'Not my rules.'
She stirred against him. She licked his lips and opened
his mouth with hers and ran her tongue around his strong
white teeth. She couldn't take seriously the threats implied
in what he said, she couldn't take her own future seriously.
All she knew was that she was free, freer than she had
ever been, all her previous existence fallen away so that
she was new made over to be the essence of her carnal
nature, here on a bed with the pirate. All her bodily needs
were gone save for this one, to join with him sexually and
focus his strength and violence into an assault of her
willing body. The contrast between her own smooth,
perfect beauty and his scarred magnificence aroused her.
The world was four walls. Her place in it was the bed. Her
future, past and purpose were in the imminent union. She
wanted to enter his body like a virus, enter even his cells
and cause his DNA to grow and change him so that on
the most profound level they were one.
'I want you again,' she said hustily. 'I want you in me
again.'
She began to use tongue, lips, fingers and pressure of
flesh to arouse and stimulate him. She roved over his body,
exploring each part, parting his hair, feeling and licking
into each crevice, each fissure, till she knew the most
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intimate taste and feel of him. She censored herself over
nothing. Whether she was between his toes or between his
buttocks, she held back over nothing, allowing no shame,
no restraint in her unhurried, luxurious, slow investigation
of his body.
Then she began to concentrate on his masculinity, on his
sex, enveloping his used member with warmth and life
and regenerating it to serve her will. She sucked the end
first, gently, and had the satisfaction of feeling it come alive
and swell under her tender ministrations. She took his balls
and separated them in their sac of flesh and moved them
until his roots began to tingle with desire.
As his flesh expanded she nibbled the length of his shaft,
savouring the veins, drawing back the foreskin and ten-
derly kissing the red bulging end.
When he was big she lowered her sodden pussy on to
him, allowing him to slip easily within her but then
crushing him with her inner muscles, not moving her body
at all save for the inner masturbation of his prick with her
clinging walls. Then she lifted her body so that the head
of his prick rested just within her, and balancing herself
she began to frig him very rapidly using the bony ring at
the entrance to her body to excite his glans as it slipped in
and out.
His breathing changed and his good eye shut as the
tension of love-making rose in him. She stopped her light
rapid movement and instead she lowered herself so that
he sank deeply into her, then she ground together their
groins before withdrawing almost to the point where he
fell out of her. She sank hard down, rose right up, again
and again.
'Christ,' he murmured. She purred and sat high on him
again, just using her internal muscular power lightly to
play with his hot hard end.
His hands gripped her hips. He pushed up. One hand
slid up her front and felt for a breast drooping melon-
heavy above him. She curved her supple body down over
him and kissed his mouth passionately, then his ear,
running her tongue within it and nibbling the edges of it.
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She smelt the sweat in his hair and saw his roots were
dark with it. She licked it like a cat, savouring the saltiness.
Despite herself, her crotch convulsed. He felt it and
laughed and drove up again into her. As he held her and
thrust, she felt she was being penetrated to her very core
and beyond it, to some new realm. She threw back her
head, steadying herself with her hands, feeling his sex
support her and lift her to a height of pleasure she had
not known existed. He lunged up and up and up and she
started to come, beside herself, gasping and shouting as
her insides rippled with flames of lust till each wave was
submerged into the torrent of orgasm.
He came himself, piercing her with joy, his cock blazing
as it creamed until she was full, full up, and at last, satisfied.
She lay dazed beside him, her eyes unfocused, inhaling
the smell of sweat and sex. Her own hair was as wet as
his. Where their heads lay together on the pillows it was
not possible to tell whose black curls were whose.
She slept, his mouth open and on her unhurt cheek so
that she felt his breath warm and possessive on her and it
was very good.
She woke to hear talking.
So deep had been her sleep that she was disoriented, her
internal body clock not working, and she did not know
where she was or what time of day or night it was. She
lifted her face, puzzled, and felt Will's rough warm body
inside her.
He was propped up, smoking, facing someone in the
room and talking. He was still entirely naked. She was
sprawled in bare-arsed abandon beside him.
Will slapped her rump. 'Go back to sleep. This is man's
talk-
She rolled on her side and looked to see who else was
in the room. She blinked in surprise. It was the bigger of
the two men who had captured her in the tunnel, the one
most like Will. Perhaps he was the man who had shot her.
He stood tall in his leathers, his eyes raking her naked-
ness and sex-soaked body. Fiona felt a thrill of danger.
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Will was unpredictable. If he was satisfied, as he might
well be after the red-headed bitch and then her own
powerful loving, would he hand her over to another? She
knew already he did not care about her own opinion of
what went on, riding roughshod over her and watching
her bend to his will.
Part of her liked it.
But she didn't want to synch with any other man. True,
he was a pirate and all pirates held a sexual fascination
for her. Further, he was far from ill-looking. He was like
Will, though not so broad and tall, and his tousled hair
was a lighter colour, and having two good eyes made him
almost a handsome man in a rugged way. But he lacked
some spice that Will had. Perhaps it was the aura of
command. Fee didn't care and was too lazy to analyse it,
though one reason for the pirates' apparent similarity was
explained to her. They all had well-developed chests and
arm-muscles. She knew why. Shinning up those walls for
a living was bound to build muscle tone.
Despite the man's undoubted attractions, Fiona felt
slavishly lustful only for Will. He was the boss and he was
a superb and ferocious lover, and altogether a dangerous
man. Her tiger.
'Meet Chain,' said Will.
'Hello, Chain,' she said. Her mouth curved into a sly
smile. Her hand moved and she touched Will's limp penis.
He gave a shout of laughter.
'She's a very horny bitch,' he said to Chain.
'What are we going to do with her?'
'What do we always do with poachers?'
'Not that,' said Chain with a wide grin, nodding down
at Fee caressing Will's groin.
'They've not been women before,' said Will.
Chain came over to the bed and sat down by Fiona. He
ran a hand down her side, considering her upcurving hip
and smooth long flank. Fee rolled on to her back between
the two men, deliberately playing with fire. She let Chain's
hot eyes see the hairless pallid dome at her belly-base,
above the wet fissure of her used sex. Its twin lobes were
107

puffy and swollen and from between them her dark long
labia protruded invitingly.
'What do you do with poachers?' she asked. Her voice
was languid and thick with past sex.
'We hang them upside down under the highway and slit
their gizzards for the crows/ said Chain. His hand came
over her belly, her mound grazing his inner wrist. 'It seems
a pity this time.' His eyes were like Will's but with more
warmth in them.
'There are other women/ said Will, sounding bored.
She twisted like a snake and was up before he could
react. She struck him ferociously hard across the face, her
eyes blazing chips of fury. Will caught her wrist and Chain
bellowed with laughter.
Will took her second wrist and with iron strength he
easily overrode her resistance, forcing them both back
behind her where he held them with one hand. His face
was inscrutable. Fee saw the muscle bunch as he drew
back his free hand.
She laughed. 'Which cheek will you hit?' she mocked.
Chain murmured in shock. Will hesitated, a shadow of
doubt crossing his face. Fiona lifted her face and held it at
an inviting angle, waiting to see if he would strike her.
'This one/ he said. He pulled her flat on her face across
him and smacked her bottom. He smacked hard and it
stung. Fiona heard Chain yell with delight and then Will
smacked her with abandon.
She writhed, humiliated by what he did and who
watched. She could not break his vicelike grip of her.
Both men were yelling and shouting now and Fiona felt
her bottom jerk up after each blow as if welcoming the
next. Her eyes stung with angry tears but she could not
stop the compulsive lifting, almost as if she was rising to
a man shafting her.
Her pussy burned.
She tried to wriggle free but Will held her easily with
his one hand as he smacked her. Too late she realised her
hot red arse was glowing like a beacon, like a red rag to
a bull. Her efforts to escape only tantalised. She felt her
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legs dragged apart and she tried to kick out but she was
held, helpless.
She was panting and groaning as she felt herself invaded.
Will held her down across his own naked body. Chain it
was who thrust into her, between her scarlet tormented
cheeks.
Her monkey-red rear throbbed with the invader fat
within it. Her backside was all one hot peppery tingle that
combined with the soreness from her earlier congress,
and she found that her juices began to run, the love-
battering sweet and fierce where she should have been
able to resist.
Then he was done. He had filled her over again and
removed himself from her. Will rolled her over, her whole
body suffused with a sexual flush that was partly rage,
partly pleasure. Chain was doing up his trousers.
'Every time you strike me,' said Will mildly, 'I'll give
you to one of my men.'
She wanted to speak bravely but the ferment of emotion
within her would not let her trust her voice. She tried to
make some gesture of defiance but she could not. She could
not even wipe her nose, and Will held her hands so tightly
that they hurt.
Chain said: 'She's crying.'
Will shrugged. 'She's a woman. She doesn't want to
admit it. She needs to be taught a lesson.'
Chain grinned. 'I like the syllabus. But I think I had better
go now.'
'Make sure I'm not interrupted for a while,' said Will.
At the first gentle kiss from Will, Fiona collapsed against
him.
'You shouldn't have done that,' she sobbed. 'You
shouldn't have had him do that to me.' She felt an
undercurrent of ecstasy at her own excess of emotion, at
the totality of her subjection.
'There are three reasons why I should,' said Will. 'Chain
is my good friend. That's the first. Secondly, I enjoyed
watching him shaft you. And thirdly, you were far out of
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line.' He kissed her and held her to his chest. She heard
the hard steady beat of his heart.
'You are going to kill me/ she whispered. 'You are going
to synch with me and kill me.'
He held her face between his two hands so that it was
close to his. He kissed it very delicately. 'Isn't it worth it?'
he asked softly.
'Dying?' She didn't understand.
'You've got what you came for. What does tomorrow
matter?'
She whimpered slightly.
He laughed and kissed her again. 'See, Skelton? You can't
be a pirate. We all know that in the end the cops will get
us. They have too much going for them and they get better
and better and the cars get harder and harder. Or we will
fall from the highway, or get shot, or have a car hit us.
We live with death so we make today good. Tomorrow
doesn't matter. But sweetheart, you don't think like that.
Zoo baby. My beauty in a cage.'
Fiona heard his words and knew that they were true.
She didn't want to die. She had wanted to live with some
danger to salt her life but she did not want to live with
death as her grinning companion. Tomorrow mattered.
'Where you come from/ said Will quietly, 'people sit in
offices and speak all day long into machines. They move
money around and call it work. And you sit in your bubble
houses, your plastidomes in the Zoo, bored to death,
watching the big Screen, shopping, drinking with your
friends and the most dangerous thing you ever do is to
sleep with one another's partners. You are intelligent
enough to know that that is not real life. That is why you
have come down here amongst us. You want to know
what it feels like to be alive, to taste excitement and fear
and danger. You don't understand that what gives spice
to life is the nearness of death. Life is a game in your world,
Skelton. In my world, life is a triumph. A temporary
triumph over death.'
He let go of her face and held her in his arms and began
to make love to her very tenderly and gently. He kissed
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her all over till her body first eased and then aroused. He
came round on top of her and entered her quietly, without
force. Gently he bucked into her, a steady soft rhythmic
arousal of lust.
She had not found him tender before, not seeking that
in him, and she was disarmed and confused as he intended
her to be. This was his mastery complete, the other side of
the coin he bought her with.
Her body took a long time to come to climax but he
waited for her with infinite patience and control. She
almost slept, hypnotised by the sliding velvet shaft filling
and softly releasing her sanctum, a delicious possession of
what her husband had rejected. Having destroyed her, Will
remade her, and he knew what he did.
He whispered to her as he slid tirelessly in and out. 'My
sweet lady came into the rough to taste a real man and
she's out of her depth but she's so sensational with her
poor under-used body that no one has known how to fulfil
before. Now you are mine, lady, mine to possess and keep
for my pleasure because you need me, need me to complete
you and make you full.'
She murmured and rose to him, knowing she would
climax again, feeling her tired muscles tremble in the sweet
agony of orgasm. He felt her too, knew she was close and
kept her there, in ecstasy, at but not over the peak.
Then he let her cry out and tumble over into climax,
releasing himself within her so that she bloomed hot inside,
a rolling voluptuous slow orgasm that throbbed through
her tortured flesh, causing her to shudder and vibrate in
his arms whilst her vision dazzled and blackened.
They lay close together in a kind of peace. Then Will
asked if she wanted to use a bathroom, and Fiona thought
with faint surprise that they weren't quite so animal after
all.
She was heavy as she left the bed, her limbs dragging
and slow, but the thought of being clean at long last
appealed to her again. The bathroom was crude but the
plumbing worked and the water was hot. She found soap
and spent a long time lathering herself, washing away the
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spunk and the sweat and the fear on her body. She
cleansed her cheek and for the first time thought it should
be dressed. When Will joined her she asked for a can of
Newskin.
'Newskin?'
'You have some surely?' Her brow knitted.
'Oh. I know what you mean. That stuff you spray on
that heals wounds. We don't have it.'
'Why not? It's fantastic.'
'Sister.' Will was patiently amused. 'It's a bio-engineered
catalyst, an enzyme that promotes the growth hormone so
that the skin cells grow in a localised area at a furious rate
for a limited time. Enough to heal. Enough to anaesthetise.
Enough to prevent scarring, I guess.
'Sure.' Fiona was impatient.
'It costs a damn fortune.'
'I hacked a car tonight. I know the ransom you boys ask.'
'We don't often succeed in hacking cars. There are quite
a few of us to support. And we don't give a toss about
scarring.'
Fee turned back to the mirror and looked at her split
cheek, raw and red. It had never occurred to her that she
might scar. She wondered how soon you had to spray a
wound. There had never been a delay before on the rare
occasion she had hurt herself or been with someone who
was hurt.
She switched her mind from the problem and instead
she washed Will, serving his body by cleansing it all over
and at the same time enjoying the length and the strength
and the breadth of him, learning it and implanting it deep
into her memory so she would be able to recall it at will.
She enjoyed also the contrast between Will and Rollo, at
last satisfied enough to forget sex for a little while and
think of other things. Rollo was smooth and bronzed and
sleek, almost feminine with his satin skin. Will was rough
and rugged, with knotty muscles and scars and calluses
and a hard hairy body. He was very tall, well over six foot,
and broad with it. She felt her own lissom womanliness,
her slightness and frailty beside him.
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She dried him carefully and powdered him, rubbing his
wet washed hair for him, willing to perform any service
he required. She knelt on the bed after she had towelled
his hair, finger-combing his wet tangles. Then she all but
touched his eye-patch.
'This,' she said. 'Have you lost the eye completely?'
'It's still there,' he said. 'It's blind. I took a chip of metal
in it one day when the helipolice got too close.'
'Couldn't you get it fixed?' She knew it was a stupid
question even as the words slipped out of her mouth.
He was laughing at her. 'There are no fancy hospitals
for the likes of us,' he said. 'We have some bush doctors
and I wouldn't let one of them near my eyes. We kinda
learn to do without.'
She sat back on her heels, her mind running easily as
suddenly it was faced with a comprehensible problem, one
of organisation, rather than culture-clash. 'Perhaps I could
get you into hospital,' she said. 'It's the documentation,
though.'
'The documentation is available for money,' said Will.
'It's the money, lady. We don't stop a car that often. That
reminds me. How come you struck lucky with your first
shot? If this was your first shot.'
'It was my first attempt,' said Fiona. 'I don't think I could
ever get up that damned wall again.'
'So how did you do it?'
His voice was lazy but Fiona felt the chill as his will met
hers. She licked her lips. 'I'm talented on computers. We
talk the same language.'
'And.'
'I spent a lot of time preprogramming.'
'You think we don't? What else, Skelton?'
'I used,' she hesitated. 'I used to work for the manufac-
turers. It's where I met my husband.'
She could have kicked herself. She should never have
said those last words. It was getting too dangerous here
with the captain. He was a subtle and a devious man and
he was using her own body against her. He was brutal
and tender by turns, but it was all planned, all a deliberate
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manipulation of herself. He did not have a spontaneous,
uncontrolled bone in his body.
He held her eyes for a slow moment. Then he lifted her
left hand and looked at her ring. It was made from two
bands of gold held together by twining platinum vine-
leaves, minute swags of grapes represented by tiny ruby
chips. It was a beautiful exotic toy, the gift of a rich man.
As Will looked at this symbol of her other life, Fiona knew
fear.
'Do you,' he asked softly, 'have a car?'
'Yes.'
'Jesus.'
In a moment of piercing clarity Fiona knew what she
had done, what danger she had exposed herself to. Will's
life was predicated upon the monster machines, the superb
rocket-beasts of the forbidden highway, the ultimate sym-
bol of success and self-aggrandisement. He was seeing her
in a new light. She was not just a rich bored woman
looking for rough trade. She was not even just a skinful
of juicy sexual tricks, with a face and a body to drive men
wild with lust.
She was the owner of a Connet. She had a one-million-
credit machine, the ultimate in travelling luxury, the
ultimate ego-machine, the ultimate expression of human
personal power in an apolitical age, just to get her from A
to B.
The ultimate penis. A three-and-a-half-hundred-mile an
hour hotrod, a gleaming titanium shaft loaded with power,
a synthesis of technology and greed.
TTiis man had just screwed a woman who had a million-
credit vibrator at her command.
Which way would he jump? Fiona felt a lurch of
excitement. She was living on the edge. It could get to be
a habit.
'Stay here with me,' he said softly. Pleasure rose hotly
in her. He had gone for the woman, not the car.
'No.'
'I can make you.'
'Your loss.'
114

'I can make you want me any time I feel like it.'
'I want you all the time, anyway.'
'Then stay.'
'If I stayed,' she said, 'I will become just another woman
to you.'
'You think so little of yourself?'
'I have an edge with you.'
'You do?7
'I have a smooth rich husband to synch with me. I wear
the latest fashions. I have so much money I can't be
bothered to add up what I spend. I have a Connet car.'
'Is that how you see yourself?'
She heard the contempt in his voice. 'I can't hold a man
like you with looks and sexy tricks,' she said, her voice
low and rich. 'And I want to hold you. If I go away and
come back, you will know I dance to your tune. I will
come back smelling of that other life, the one you can't
have. You might be rough trade, my tiger-man, but I am
luxury trade, carriage class, Zoo bred. If you are a tiger, I
am a leopard, sleek, a thing of infinite riches. Yet I choose
you. I come down to the sewer and I choose you. You
know that I cannot keep away from you, even after all
that you have done to humiliate me and hurt me.'
Will lay back on one elbow, his good eye narrowed,
watching her, thinking over what she said. Now he smiled.
'That did you good. I did you a favour.'
She let it go. 'You have your life,' she whispered. 'I have
mine. Don't we get our hype from the contrast between
us?' She leant over him and brushed a finger over his lips.
'You and me. Yes? Honesty between us.'
'If you say so.'
She knew he would never be honest with her. He would
never be safe. But she did not wish him changed.
'One thing.'
'Conditions, Skelton? I don't think I accept conditions.'
'No more of that business with Chain.'
'You didn't like him?' Will grinned broadly.
'That's got nothing to do with it.'
His powerful hands enclosed her wrists and he ran his
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hands up her arms and down again. 'I'm not your
husband. No one hits me. No bitch, however pretty,
however sexy, hits me in a little temper and gets nothing
back.'
'Chain shot me tonight. He and his pal knocked me about
before they knew I was a female, and then when they did
they took me, one after another, as if I was nothing, just
a hole on legs. Then Chain had me again whilst you held
me down, the two of you laughing at me and degrading
me for your sport. You owe me, Captain Will Kid.'
'You poached. I've given you your life.'
'You got the passenger from the car I stopped.'
'I owe nobody.'
They stared at each other with hostility. Fiona thought
of the long walk home. She was desperately tired.
'What's your real name?' he said in a flat voice.
'You know all you need to know about me. And some.'
'All I know about you is that your body is magic and
you weave a spell I can't resist, try as I might. I would
rather kill you than lose you, Skelton.'
She couldn't help it. She rose to his bait, a willing victim.
She kissed his nipple and sucked the tiny hard disc. Her
hands went down and she found his rear, rubbing the flesh
when she had found it and seeking entrance. He fell back
and she came on top of him. She turned herself round and
put her mouth to his slack shaft. Her fingers quested on
round, into him, and he groaned suddenly and his prick
hardened. She invaded his backside still more and felt his
breath hot between her legs. He ran his tongue her fissured
length and then sought out her clitoris and began to suck
it.
With her fingers she masturbated his rear whilst she
sucked his penis to life. She exulted when he rose up and
hardened properly. What a man! Her own vulva burned
from the treatment it had taken that night and she only
aroused him now because her departure was imminent
and she longed for him.
It would demean her for him to know how starved she
was, how near she was to dearth though she glutted herself
116

with him. She could not bear for him to know of Rollo's
continued rejection. How could she admit she feared to
have his bloated weapon enter her again that night,
because she was sore and it would hurt?
She had an idea. It made fear and excitement shoot
through her in equal amounts.
She slid her finger deeper into his rear and felt him jerk
and wriggle. Her mouth released his cock and she willed
herself to forget its thickness and length.
'Mount me,' she said hoarsely. 'Here.' She pushed at his
anus and he shuddered, his back arching.
His tongue slid hot and wet from her pussy up between
her divided buttocks until he was sucking at her rear
entrance. She quivered, loving it and terrified in equal
parts. She had never admitted a man in this way. She
didn't know if she could.
He moved out from under her and came on to his knees.
'Do you have any cream?7 she asked, panic washing
through her. She didn't think he would back down if she
asked. There was a cruel streak in him.
He moved and for a moment fumbled out of her sight.
Her wet wrinkled flesh fluttered of its own accord, nerv-
ously. Then she felt a cold jelly shock against her arse. He
penetrated her with his finger, working her, softening her
and greasing the passageway. She moaned, sweat starting
on her upper lip and beading her hairline. His finger left
her and she felt the club of his sex press against where it
had been.
He had to push hard. She had a vivid picture of the two
boys at the massage parlour. Then, with a succulent plop,
Will got the end of his massy cock inside her and she
yelped with pain.
She was being seared with red-hot needles, lanced by the
gross muscle within her. Her bottom spasmed and she
groaned deeply. Her buttocks stung from the beating they
had received and her clitoris set up a sharp clamour of
tingling pain. The heat of her pussy burned and all her
rump glowed, within and without.
'More,' she whispered.
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He drove further into her. She felt split in two. She
clenched her rear muscles and he laughed.
'Too much, greedy sister?'
'More,' she hissed through gritted teeth.
He clove her and lust erupted through her body. 'Fuck
me,' she shouted and he was doing it, riding into her, the
pressure in her everywhere, guts, groin, vulva and womb.
This man could do anything to her and she would love
it.
She bucked down on to him and he took her hips to
steady her.
He took her fast. He must be tired himself. She felt him
swell and she felt the soft thuck of his balls on the backs
of her thighs. He thrust hard and she felt him flower within
her, his hot liquid a welcome gush. As her arse filled, his
cock relaxed and he began to slide out.
He watched his handiwork for a moment, seeing his own
juice smear her lovely cleft. He lay down beside her and
Fiona looked at him, trembling still but triumphant and
adoring.
'You bitch,' he said. 'You clever bitch.'
'Not all one way, eh?' she croaked. Something had
happened to her throat.
'That look of worship in your eyes,' he said.
'Yes?'
'I kinda like it, Zoo baby.'
'Will,' she groaned.
'Don't say it. Go now. Or I won't let you.'
'You have to give me some clothes.' She gave a crooked
laugh. She was close to falling at his feet. Her eyes couldn't
focus, she was so full of him and what he did to her, for
her.
'I reckon you've earned new clothes,' he said. 'We get
the computer and all the little toys you brought in tonight.
And the passenger.'
'And my soul, pirate.'
He laughed. 'Yeah. And that.'
118

Chapter Nine
F
iona took to her bed for two days pretending she was
unwell but refusing to allow a doctor access. She was
exhausted and sore and needed time to recover mentally
as well as physically.
Over and over again during that two days she visualised
the powerful naked body of her pirate lover. Just thinking
of him was enough to arouse her. Her mind dwelt on the
details of what she had gone through and she found that
she was angry and softened by turns. She knew she had a
fundamental weakness where Will was concerned. Though
she gloried in her toughness of character in general, it
pleased her to be so abased a creature with the pirate.
She revelled in the luxury of her life, feeling it as she had
never felt it before. She, who had wallowed in sexual
frenzy in the night with the dregs of society, was now
lapped all about with pretty toys and soft living, waited
on and pampered and having her will served by her paid
employee.
The knowledge that the bullet might have shattered bone
instead of grazing her, the knowledge that she had come
close to being killed, further excited her.
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By the time she was able to treat her torn face, it was too
late to prevent scarring. She explained it by saying she had
turned too quickly and caught her face on a sharp point.
As an excuse it was thin but no one had any reason to
disbelieve her and think she lied. She kept a close eye on
the news and saw reported that another car driver had
been ransomed. So her victim was home again, a poorer
man, unless he was insured against piracy as many of
them were.
The episode with Chain stayed in her mind and her
principal emotion was a kind of fascination that it had
really taken place. She remembered the frenzied moment,
her bottom burning, Will forcing her down, Chain drag-
ging her legs apart to plant his thick thieving member
within her. She tried to imagine what she must have
looked like from the rear with her reddened cheeks and
writhing legs opening to give glimpses of her wet sexual
crevasse. She could visualise Chain, his leathers opened at
his groin, holding himself with one hand and kneeling
forward on the bed between her struggling limbs, forcing
her rear up till he could sink his shaft within her furious
body and trap her with his sex, master her resistance and
turn it to a kind of fierce accepting angry joy.
She had hated watching the red-haired girl suck and fuck
Will as she hung helpless and rejected. Will had enjoyed
having his mate impale her after he had taken his own
satisfaction from her.
She tried to imagine Diana, whom she cared for, in the
cellar with herself and Will. What if she had witnessed
Diana caressing Will's body and using it to pleasure
herself? She had no trouble recalling Diana's generous sex
with its riot of fair curling hair. She set herself to picture
Will's dark powerful prick sliding up and within Diana's
intimate tresses, going on and into Diana till the blonde
writhed with joy at the invader. She imagined it with-
drawn, glistening, then sliding back up and into her friend.
What would she do? She would stroke Diana's breasts.
She would run her hands underneath Diana's rear and feel
on round until she could lightly clasp Will's swinging balls
120

and caress them as he shafted her friend. She could let her
fingertips gently flutter up without impeding his action so
she could feel Diana's split labia and moist vulva, feel the
softness of hair, feel the strength of Will's wet shaft going
in and out.
In unwitting mimicry of her wallowing in sex, Rollo
wallowed in work. He needed her now. Things were
coming together for him and he wanted her computer
mastery to get the details under control, to create organi-
sational programmes that would keep the growing con-
sortium under his control, a structure that he could
command and keep on top of.
She could do this. She would do this for him, and for
herself, as soon as she was able.
Diana came to see her.
'What's wrong? You don't usually keep in your bed.'
'I'm shattered. A momentary imbalance. Too little of this,
too much of that. Don't nag me, Diana. I'm enjoying
myself.'
Diana sat down. 'You look different, Fee. Is it this lover
of yours?'
'I didn't say I had a lover.'
'Your body language does. You look so sexy I could give
it to you myself if Teddy hadn't done the business twice
already this morning.'
Teddy was her husband. Fiona knew she wasn't brag-
ging. The pair of them went at it like stags in the rut.
'What is this man,' said Diana, 'that after a session with
him you have to take to you bed?'
'He's . . . he's . . .' She couldn't say it.
'Will you leave Rollo?'
'No.'
'Is the guy married?'
Fiona laughed aloud. 'I've no idea. I shouldn't think so.'
'Where d'you meet him? Do I know him?
'You don't know him.'
'You sound very sure. Why don't I know him? And if I
121

don't, why are you so foxy with me? Who is he, this
fantastic lover of yours?'
'He doesn't belong to our life,' said Fiona with difficulty.
'I found him a long way away.'
'Chit of the Zoo?' Diana looked at her friend doubtfully.
Suddenly Fiona understood.
'You stupid ape,' she said. 'I know what's in your mind.'
A guarded look came down over Diana's face. 'You do?'
'Friend of mine, I couldn't take your husband if I wanted
to. And I would do nothing to harm our friendship. I don't
believe he would let me, either. My lover is not Teddy,
Diana. Forgive me, but your husband is not the only man
in the world who can dazzle a woman with the quality of
his synching. I've found another.'
'I know he's not good looking. But you've been so
desperate. I just wondered.'
'I still aim to get Rollo's pole up/
'You do?-
'I have this sneaky little plan.'
'Are you going to tell me?'
'I think you'll be shocked.'
'So shock me. Don't patronise.'
'I'm going to use Janine.'
'Who?'
'My maid.'
'Your maid, for Christ's sake!'
'I said you would be shocked.'
Diana thought about this for a while. 'How?' she
asked.
'Have you ever fancied it with a woman, Diana?'
Diana put her head on one side and looked down at her
friend. 'I never thought about it till that day at the massage
joint. I got really hot. It was good when you touched me.
Mind you, I was already hot as hell from the massage and
then seeing those two guys perform. God.' Diana threw
her head back and laughed. 'That was really something.
I've never seen anything like it.'
'It's sexy watching other people at it, isn't it?'
'It's on the Screen all the time. I don't bother with it.'
122

'In the flesh, Diana. Real people. People you can smell
and hear. And touch.'
'I guess so. I'm not sure. I don't think I'd like to perform
in public.'
'Janine has the hots for Rollo. I'm fixing it so Rollo sees
her screwing. Then she will make a play for him.'
'That's bloody dangerous, Fee. Handing the delectable
Rollo over to another woman. And Janine is just a kid.'
'She's sixteen and she wants the guy badly. I can't arouse
him. If she can, maybe we can both get the benefit.'
'You'd share him?'
'I don't get him at all at the moment. Half a loaf, Diana.'
'You amaze me. I can't take this in. Who's the guy who
is going to perform with Janine so Rollo can get excited
about it?'
'That's my little secret.'
'Your lover?'
'No chance. I told you, he's not in our world at all. I met
him somewhere completely different. And he would no
more play games at my ordering than he would . . .'
'Would what?'
'I don't know. He's not tame. That's what I like about
him.'
'You can get a long way in that auto of yours,' said Diana
jealously.
So that was fine. Diana thought she meant that Will was
somewhere geographically distant when she said he was
in another world. It wasn't miles that made the distance,
though. She could walk, given sufficient time, to Will's
world, but it was still a different world altogether.
After she was up and about again Fiona worked hard with
Rollo for a while, doing her bit for TransHow, as the new
company was called.
There were meetings via computer link-up with engin-
eers. They were fixing the specifications that would form
the basis of the tenders from construction companies.
The whole property and land side was a horrific tangle.
123

Where they could, it made logistical sense to use the old
ruined waterways already owned by the water companies
who would be buying what TransFlow carried. These
would not need to be deregistered as farming, recreational
or wild land, and the old canals made a natural line for
the pipeline to follow.
Rollo was no fool, either. As a side project and quite
unknown to the other members of the consortium, he was
investing in a little company that had produced a successful
process for turning sea water into fresh. Desalination had
been viable for over half a century but it had remained
expensive and clumsy. The new filtration plant not only
removed the salt dissolved in sea water, but also the trace
magnesium, silver, iodine, uranium, gold, nickel, copper,
cobalt and so on, collecting them in a commercially viable
manner that would underpin financially the production of
fresh water which was the filtration plant's main purpose.
Rollo had always backed more than one horse in the race
and his personal finances reflected his acumen.
He came to Fiona. 'I need to buy the patent on the water
filtration plant,' he said. 'If the pipeline gets out of hand
and we can't continue to raise finance, or if our costs soar
and make the water companies look for a cheaper solution,
we'll control it. You and I won't lose personally. I have
first option on the patent but I have to come through with
the money pretty soon or they can offer it on the open
market.'
'How much for the patent?'
Rollo told her. Fiona's eyes narrowed. 'We don't have
that much money spare, do we?'
'No. My credit is fully extended with TransFlow. I have
to have it there because it gives investor-confidence, if I'm
seen to be out on a limb myself.'
They looked at each other. 'The car,' said Fiona event-
ually.
'It could be a year. I mean, we could be without it for a
long time, baby. We'll get it back in the end, of course,
when T ransFlow regenerates my personal holding. Do you
mind very much?'
124

'Give me a couple of days, Rollo/
'No longer, Fee. I mustn't miss this. We need the
insurance.'
'I understand.'
The plan came to her fully formed, the product of Rollo's
own words. Her request for a delay had been merely to
accustom herself to the shock of being earless. But now she
thought she could see a way round it. If she could work
an insurance fiddle on her car, she might be able to raise
the finance and keep the car at the same time.
She got busy. She put stage one into operation that same
evening. There was no time to lose.
She had to get hold of a car computer control system, a
Connet, that had been subjected to hacking. She needed
one in meltdown. She toyed with the idea of asking
Captain Kid to help her but rejected it. He was too
uncertain, too dangerous. Moreover, he was not a wheeler-
dealer like Rollo and to a certain extent like herself. Will
was a taker. He wouldn't make deals.
She vidicommed an old acquaintance from her days of
working at the autofactory where she had learned and
used her computing skills. She picked a guy in middle
management, a career failure who knew he would go no
further, a man who would never afford to buy one of the
beautiful machines he worked to help produce.
This man had tried to make the grade with her but Rollo
had taken her from under his nose. If he felt he could get
one over the successful high-flying Rollo Cambridge, he
might break his company oath and supply her with what
she wanted.
Fiona prepared for the call by making herself as seductive
as she knew how. Then she dialled him. His name was
Jamie Andersen.
'Hey, Jamie/ she said when she got through. He was a
nice-looking second-rater which made what she wanted
to do that much easier. She would- have done it anyway.
His lips parted in astonishment. 'Fee/ he said. 'Fee
Bronson.'
125

'Fee Cambridge/ she corrected prettily.
His face downturned. 'Yeah. So how is Rollo these days?'
'Abstracted.'
'What?'
'Bound up in business. I don't want to talk about him. I
wondered how you were.'
'Me? I'm fine. Just the same. You know.'
'You're a nice guy, Jamie. We used to be friends. I'm
awfully bored. Rollo is always busy. Let's meet up and
talk old days at the factory. We used to have fun.'
'We did? We did/ he repeated more firmly. 'Yeah. Let's
meet.' He gulped.
'Tonight.'
'Tonight?' he yelped in amazement.
'If you can't make it, I understand. Everyone's always
busy.'
'I can make it, Fee.'
'I'll bring my car. Maybe we can go for a ride.' She gave
this the full throaty treatment. Jamie turned a dull red.
'You have a car. An auto. One of ours. Of course you
do.'
'Let's ride, Jamie, and catch up on old times. I'll come
over, then?'
'Yes. Sure. I'll be ready. And Fee?'
'Mmm?'
'I'm glad you called.'
'So am I, Jamie. So am I.'
She dressed to kill. She put on the tight black number with
the peep-hole nipples, full ghost make-up, and she had
Janine fix her hair into a scented profusion.
Having been neglected lately, Janine was inclined to be
sulky, Fiona kissed her tenderly on the lips.
'Darling/ she said huskily. 'Business is at a critical stage
and when Rollo turns on to you, I want you to have all
his attention. I think things will move next week.'
'I thought that maybe you didn't like me any more/
mumbled Janine.
'Me? Oh baby, I didn't realise you liked me so much. I
126

mean, I thought I was just a means to an end with you,
Rollo being what you really wanted.'
'I do want him. I still don't understand why you don't
mind. But I like what we do together, Mrs Cambridge. I
mean, I get really excited.'
'I like it too, honey. I was worried in case I got greedy
and frightened you off. But if you want to play with me
just because you like it, we'll certainly play some more.
Lots more.'
The sun came out in Janine's face. 'That's wonderful,'
she said earnestly.
'Now I have to dash. I'm meeting an old workmate and
I want to impress him. You know, show I haven't gone
matronly or developed lines or sag or anything.'
'You,' gasped Janine with incredulity. 'But you are
fabulous. So beautiful. So sexy.'
'Bless you, child. Just what I want to hear.'
Fiona kissed Janine thoughtfully, savouring the female
mouth mixed with her own. The girl's adoration of herself
pleased her and was counterweight to her own adoration
for Will. She liked the idea of Janine serving her as maid
and yet lusting privately to touch and be touched in
intimate deviant caress. The girl's mouth was honey, and
her submissive attitude aroused Fiona sexually. For a
moment she fantasised playing Chain to Janine, wearing
leather and high heels and invading the helpless girl
caught squirming across some man's lap. It would be fun.
She would love to see Janine writhing, with spunk oozing
from her body's most private entrance, her breasts crushed
and her bottom reddened with abuse.
Already in the mood for the evening's games, she went
to the hangar to fetch her auto. She would seduce Jamie,
hardly a difficult feat. She needed him compliant to her
will. He was going to steal for her, after all.
Jamie admitted her and with a kind of eager unease led
her into his sitting room. The lights were dimmed but Fee
could see it was a classic middle-income bachelor pad.
Jamie did not live in the Zoo, of course, but his home was
no slum though the windows were opaqued so that he
127

could not overlook nor be overlooked by his neighbours.
Dronesville. Respectable, dull, and boring.
One wall of his sitting room was given oyer to the
mandatory big Screen, off in deference to her arrival, and
Fiona supposed he had been watching one of the sex
channels before she arrived. There was a feel in the air,
half-hopeful, half-shameful. She would have liked him
more if he had had the boldness to leave it on so that
couples writhed as they talked. There would have been an
honest vulgarity in that which would be more attractive
than his furtive demeanour now.
He was dressed in tight tan slacks that were not quite
the fashionable length below the knee, and a stiff heavily-
embroidered overshirt. They had been all the rage a couple
of years back. Rollo still had one or two at the back of his
wardrobe somewhere.
He fetched her a drink, a good malt whisky, which was
one up to him, thought Fiona, for the damned stuff cost a
fortune. Synthetic alcohol was cheaper but it was nothing
like as good as the real thing.
Jamie could not keep his eyes off her clothes. Exposed
nipples were a new fashion for the Zoo. Down here in
Dulltown no one would be wearing them for a year, and
then they would be toned down somehow. No doubt Jamie
had seem them on actresses in the broadcasts, but Fiona
could bet hers were the first Jamie had seen in the flesh,
as it were. He probably had a succession of girlfriends who
had shed their clothes at the appropriate moment, but that
was not the same as seeing beautiful, rich, desirable
women walking around with the tips of their tits on show.
The dim lighting enabled her to sit so that her nipples
projected and glowed in ghostly fashion. Let him get an
eyeful. He was going to pay for it.
Parking her car outside was doing his credit good in the
neighbourhood, she had no doubt. No one down here
would ever have ridden in one of the rocketcars. There
would be old-fashioned computer-assist models but they
were excluded from the highways, the sexy skylanes that
roofed the city and were for the turbomasters alone.
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'This is nice, Jamie,' she said chattily. 'How are things
with you?'
'Much the same, Fee. You look great, really great.'
'You like the gear?'
'Love it,' he said huskily.
'You don't think it's too extreme?'
'Some women,' said Jamie and coughed to clear his
throat, 'couldn't carry it off. You can, Fee. Believe me.'
'I've missed the old days, you know,' she said mistily.
'You don't look as if you have.'
No fool, then. 'I gave you a hard time. You want to know
why?'
'I doubt it. It can hardly be flattering.'
'I'm a flyer, Jamie. I knew the sort of life I wanted and
Rollo has given it to me. Rollo has given me everything,
except. . .'
'Except what?'
'What you would have given me.'
'What's that, Fee?'
'Fidelity.'
She couldn't do it. She couldn't betray Rollo and her own
sexless relationship to this man. She couldn't admit Rollo
didn't screw her any more. It suited her own ego and her
perception of loyalty to Rollo to pretend he synched
around.
'Those goodlooking guys, they always play the field,'
muttered Jamie. 'You know that.'
'Come out in the car, Jamie. I'm being boring. Let's have
some fun together, for old time's sake.'
'Of course. Whatever you say.'
He recognised the car. There weren't that many Connets
made in any one factory and anyone who really loved
them could keep an individual count. He stroked the
smoky glass-brown exterior. The titanium body was vitri-
plated in shatterproof obsidian giving the car a deep
opaque lustre.
Fiona touched the lock and it admitted them. She saw
the neighbours watching and gave them a good eyeful of
her clothes and legs. Inside she fixed them both a drink
129

and asked Jamie if he had any idea about where he wanted
to go.
'The coast/ he suggested.
She programmed the computer and they started up. The
gas turbine motor hummed and the car rose on its airpads.
It was set on local, to detect bodies and other heat sources,
and would go at slow speed until it reached the highway
ramp, some distance here from the houses. The ramps ran
close to the rich dwellers in the Zoo because they were the
only stratum in society that could afford Connets. There
was no point in building service roads here that would
never be needed.
They bumbled quietly along, Fiona concentrating on
building Jamie's ego. She knew she would have to make
the come-on. Some men liked it, some didn't. She had to
hope that Jamie was so besotted that whatever his normal
preference, he didn't care in this instance.
The screen indicated they had reached the ramp.
'Help me put her up/ invited Fee.
The car was keyed to her DNA. Jamie took her hands
within his and lightly held them, playing the keys lovingly,
his body pressed gently against her back and his head at
her shoulder. The motor rose in pitch until they could not
hear it. They were pushed back as the car shot up the ramp
and joined the highway. They were up in the stars, below
the velvet arc of sky, enclosed within the Connet web and
carried madly within it.
There wasn't a lot of time.
130

amie,' said Fee. She twisted her hand within his and
pressed his to her breast. His palm felt the naked nipple
surrounded by material.
'Fee/ he croaked. His lips came onto hers as she fell back
into his arms.
'I've always wanted you/ she murmured. 'I was afraid
that if I got entangled I would miss out on the high life. I
wanted that so much as well. Was that very wicked of me,
Jamie?'
'I expect so/ he said breathlessly. 'You were always a
little wicked, Fee. I think that's why I wanted you so much.
Then that smooth bastard got you.'
'You've got me now/ said Fee. Her arms wound around
his neck.
He wasn't bad. He wasn't bad at all. In fact, he was quite
agreeably good. She was a snob, Fiona realised. Just
because a guy didn't make it to the top at work, it didn't
mean he wasn't a clever operator between the thighs.
She came on hard, sensing he liked it. He kissed her and
then pulled down her strap exposing the entire breast. He
held it and kissed the plummy nipple, teasing it expertly
'J
Chapter Ten
131

till it was proud and long. He caught it between his fingers
and went hard at work on the other one with his mouth.
The car hissed along at two hundred and ninety miles
an hour. Jamie got his hand up her skirt and found she
wore no panties.
'Oh, dear God, Fee. You could drive a man insane.'
'Take me, Jamie. Make it worthwhile.'
He had her skirt up and was pulling her legs apart. Then
he stopped, gazing on her revealed parts.
'OK?' she asked.
His face was transfixed. He never heard her. He began
to pant. He fell on to his knees before her and a curious
expression, compounded of fear and wonder and bewil-
derment, crossed his face. Very, very slowly he brought a
hand up. Fiona could see it was trembling. He touched her
with the force of a moth's wing, the slightest of touches,
on her uprearing bald sexual mound. He lifted his face
and met her gaze with something like pain in his eyes.
'Fee,' he said.
'What is it, Jamie?'
'I never thought I'd see this. I never thought it could be
so good, so strange. So blunt. Then that sweetiest, sexiest
slit below, leading back. Fee Bronson, you are the stuff of
dreams.'
It didn't seem the appropriate moment to correct him
over her name. He used his fingers with delicate strength
to open her wide and gaze deep into her steamy interior.
His lips moved but no sound came out. He simply knelt
there, looking, holding her open so that her heat was
caressed by cool air.
The intense visual scrutiny and appreciation was very
flattering.
He bent down so that he could look closer. Fee flexed
her muscles.
'You are like fruit,' he murmured, 'Soft, split, fermented
fruit, dark and juicy and intoxicating, inviting teeth to bite
deeply into you.'
'So bite me,' said Fiona softly.
'You'll make me drunk.'
132

'Suck my juices, sweetheart. We've waited long enough.'
But he didn't. Not then. Instead he released her skirt and
removed it, laying it carefully to one side. Now she wore
nothing but long sheeny stockings and suspenders. Round
her throat was black velvet and more of the same was
twisted deep and cunningly into her hair.
Jamie began to shed his own clothes. He stripped quite
well. He must use the gymnasium, thought Fiona idly. She
didn't remember whether he had when she worked at the
factory. She hadn't been interested enough in him.
He had fair hair and his prick stood out of a curly golden
cloud. She was surprised to see he wasn't getting down to
the business. She knew she wasn't going to mind this time
with Jamie. It was quite fun.
'Fee,' he said.
'What is it?'
'I want you to suck my cock.'
'Is that what you like, lover?'
He brought his groin level with her face.
'Go down on me. Fee Cambridge. Suck me off.'
His getting her name right gave her the clue. He wanted
her abased. He wanted her humiliated. He wanted to feel
on top after all these years, in command.
Fee changed her tone from flirty to humble. Anything to
oblige. He wasn't just going to get his cock sucked by Fee
Bronson. Rollo Cambridge was going to be right down
there, humbly sucking alongside.
He was slightly scented. This was a common male habit,
she knew, but not one that pleased her overmuch. The
smell that turned her on was clean aroused male. She
didn't want a perfumed prick.
She sucked gently at first, finding his threshold where
pleasure turned to pain. The art was to keep a man there,
just the right side of pleasure but at its most intense. She
worked his shaft, nibbling and licking and eating at the
hair from which it sprung. Her hand came up and caressed
his balls, cupping them and squeezing them. Then she
back-tracked the length of his shaft until she was at his
tumescent head.
133

He was overexcited. The car, herself, the forbidden
(forbidden for her, that is) and illicit nature of what they
were doing, were all too much for him. When he climaxed
he would be out of control.
Fee sucked the eye of his gland and tasted salt. She took
the whole end into her mouth and squeezed and sucked
hard. He was panting now. She opened her mouth and
played her tongue, pointed and hot and sharp over his
quivering flesh. She ringed the base of his prick with finger
and thumb and plunged her mouth right over him,
drawing back slowly, pressing hard.
He was groaning, shaking with mounting passion. She
drew back onto the head, sucking hard, rhythmically hard,
and at the same time frigging him with finger and thumb.
Her other hand tickled at his testicles.
She felt him come with her hands first and opened her
mouth to take what he had to give. He spurted into her,
shouting and shaking, and when she knew he was un-
loaded she pulled back and lay back, her lips slightly
parted, a trickle of spunk coming from one corner of her
mouth.
He stared at her, aghast. Now he had had what he
wanted, he was ashamed.
'Kiss me, you bastard,' she said thickly.
His mouth was hesitant. Maybe he had never done this
before. Fee had little idea of what other women liked or
encouraged men to do. She herself had always wanted
more. More intense experience, more variety, more tricks
and flavours in her sex.
She pushed up so that his mouth was hard on hers and
knotted her fingers in his hair, driving their mouths
together whilst she sucked his tongue and licked his inner
mouth. He recovered himself and began to kiss her back,
his tongue darting round her mouth and exploring the
taste of himself in her.
Her eyes were chips of ice as he lifted his face from hers.
'Turn round,' she commanded. Her expectation of obe-
dience was insulting. He hesitated a moment and then
obeyed her.
134

The giant car quivered as it hurled along the highway.
Now she had his rear before her. She considered. Be-
tween his legs his prick hung down, limp and soft. Fiona
smacked his bottom.
'Hey/ he protested.
'Shuddup/ she said and ran her nails over one buttock.
A set of three shallow red weals stood out. She smacked
them hard. He jerked out but remained silent, his head
down, his bottom up.
Fee looked round the car and saw Jamie's trousers. She
slid the slim leather belt out of the tabs and coiled it round
her hand so that she held the buckle. She backed away
from Jamie a little and then brought the temporary whip
down with a whistling crack across his buttocks.
He jerked violently and cried out but he did not stop her.
'You filthy bastard/ she said and whipped him again.
'Fiona/ he whimpered.
'Mrs Cambridge to you/ she said. She whipped him
again, hearing the crack of leather as it struck living flesh.
'Me, sucking the likes of you, eh?' His backside was
glowing red, the plum-coloured lines across it the same
colour as her nipples.
She checked down between his legs. His prick had
stiffened a little already. She gave him one more vicious
flick. She hadn't broken any skin but his rear was signal
red and must sting like hell. She was astonished to find
she was wet between her own legs. She was enjoying this.
She pulled his buttocks back towards herself a little
which had the effect of making his male equipment dangle
down instead of being safely tucked between his thighs.
His scrotal sac hung with a sparse collection of crinkly
blonde hair around it. The stronger shaft of his purplish
dong, half-erect, hung lower.
She must be careful, she thought. Her clitoris tingled.
Judging the blow nicely, she lashed him gently across his
balls. He screamed and put his arms over his head. She
lashed him again, fighting the impulse to use her strength.
His prick was hard erect now, swinging nicely.
Fee put her mouth to his anus and sucked hard. She
135

could feel his flesh vibrate with shock at the unexpected
assault. He writhed. She invaded him with her tongue and
felt his valve spasm. She spat on him to make him wet
and then invaded him with her finger.
'Oh, Christ, no,' he moaned, bubbling with fear. But he
didn't stop her.
She drove her finger further in. 'Turn over,' she ordered.
Carefully he pivoted on her finger, so brazenly up his
arse, bringing his legs up and over till he lay on his back
before her. He was red-faced and distressed but his prick
stuck straight up in the air, ramrod hard.
'This is bad, huh?' she asked silkily.
'I can't, I can't. . .'
'So how are you going to punish me for being such a
naughty girl?' As she said this, she pushed her finger even
harder in.
His back arched as he lifted his buttocks from the couch,
absorbing her probing finger, his mouth open and his eyes
shut. His vertical rigid cock was beautiful. For a moment
she thought he had failed to catch what she said. But he
had heard her and was gradually becoming aware that
the game was changing. He sagged down and his eyes
opened. He peered blearily at her. When he spoke, his
voice was hoarse.
'I'm going to whip you,' he said.
Fee removed her finger and cowered back. 'Please don't,'
she whimpered.
Jamie sat up, shaking a little. 'You bitch,' he said. 'I'm
going to make you suffer.'
She squirmed back, then turned her back on him,
presenting her rear, her pale pointed buttocks an open
invitation to abuse. 'I can't look,' she squeaked.
There was a delay. She had no doubt he was considering
the strap. She poked her bottom right out as provocatively
as she knew how, and thought about Will smacking her.
Her fanny vibrated slightly, moist and excited.
She screamed. It stung incredibly, a burning hot line
across her buttocks.
'Take that,' he yelled and the whip whistled audibly,
136

cutting through the air to land stingingly on her proffered
flesh. It burned.
'And that/ he cried again. In a sexual frenzy he struck
her several times more and Fiona felt the blows merge and
bloom into a fiery all-over heat that expanded and flooded
through her in a hot sexual tide. As he struck her again,
the thin piercing sweetness of the blow was desirable and
arousing.
Then he was in her, taking her from behind, shoving his
stiff prick into the open wet invitation of her upraised orifice.
He plunged deeply and aggressively, taking her hard
and fast in his need. Then Fiona became aware of some-
thing most peculiar.
She was hot, wet and thoroughly aroused. Jamie was
doing the business just fine. But she couldn't come. There
was no climax. She felt Jamie coming, heard him gasp, felt
his heat and flow in her, but beyond a couple of perfunc-
tory muscular spasms, she did nothing herself.
She had only ever made love for pleasure. This was the
first time she had gone with a man out of calculation, for
an end other than sexual satisfaction. Maybe that was it.
Now he had rolled her over and was stroking her wet
hair back from her brow and kissing her face gently with
little soft kisses.
'Fee, oh my darling, you beautiful creature/ he was
murmuring. She felt a rush of maternal protective emotion.
Poor Jamie. A sweet guy, really and not untalented. He
looked all in.
She fetched them both a fresh drink and tidied up a little,
adjusting the air conditioning to reduce the smell of sexual
congress.
'That's quite a muscle you keep down there/ she said.
'A man could die for you/ he said romantically.
I only want you to steal for me, she thought sweetly.
'Jamie, I'm one bored woman. You took me out of myself
today.'
'You want a repeat and I'm on, Fee.'
'I've been playing with computers lately.'
'Oh yeah. You weren't bad, were you?'
137

You patronising bastard, she thought coldly. I was the
best.
'Does Rollo use you in his business endeavours?'
'Don't let's talk about Rollo. Can you do me a favour?'
'Name it, sweetheart.'
'Get me an old Connet. A bust one. One in meltdown.'
'Hey, that's not so easy.'
'I guess not.' Fiona ran a tantalising finger up his chest,
through his little mat of wiry hair. 'Nor is it easy for me
to get away like this. I want to play around with a melted
Connet, maybe see if I can fix it.'
'You can't fix a computer after it's melted.' Jamie was
positive. He was an electronics expert himself, though not
up to Fee's standard.
'Wanna bet?'
'It's crazy, Fee. You could buy one. God knows, you
must have the credits.'
'I could buy a good one,' she corrected. 'I want one in
meltdown.'
'The factory erases them. You know that. They are all
accounted for.'
'Mmm-hm.'
'I mean, I would have to fix the records. And for what?'
'For me.'
'But it would be no use to you.'
'So you think. And you might even be right. I don't want
to blow the one in this car. Even Rollo has limits and he
doesn't expect me to waste hundreds of thousands of
credits on a whim.'
'Forgive me, Fee, but it is just that, a whim. I thought
you had more sense. You can't do anything with a melted
computer.'
'I think I can. The melted computer does no good at the
factory. I'm not depriving anyone of anything. I'm recycling
waste, if you like. It would be a challenging toy for me. I
like that.'
She gave Jamie a challenging look as she said this and
licked her lips. 'I'm sorry,' she said slyly. 'I like to live a
little crazy and I expect my men to do the same.'
138

'You bitch/ he said helplessly. 'You know I'll do it.'
She laughed gloriously. 'Fuck me again, Jamie. Then steal
me a computer. That turns me on, yeah.'
'Yeah/ said Jamie. He would play it her way now.
They didn't get out of the car at the coast. With consider-
able ingenuity Fiona managed to keep Jamie well enter-
tained all the way back to Dullsville. She was shattered
when they got back to his apartment, but not as shattered
as he was. Jamie could hardly walk.
She arranged to pick up the computer the following day.
Her schedule was tight. She couldn't afford to wait.
One of the good things about Rollo was that if he agreed
to something, he didn't keep raising the issue again and
rehashing it. So he said nothing that night about selling
the car, nor the next day.
Early afternoon Fiona drove to Jamie's and picked up
the ruined computer which he had brought out of the
factory in a box at lunchtime. Fortunately he had to get
back to work so she gave him a quick uncomplicated rut
on his couch and was able to get away. Her mind was
detaching from sex now. She was thinking electronics.
However, she had her plan to keep to. After re-entering
the car outside Jamie's she slid a prepared siphon between
her legs. She sucked Jamie's semen from her fanny into
the sterile tube. She had also relieved him of three pubic
hairs. She put these into a plastic envelope and tucked all
her spoils into the glove box.
She drove home and without washing changed into the
dress she had bought that morning. It was the most
dazzling and daring she could find at such short notice. If
she held still, it looked silver-black. If she moved, it
coruscated into a hologrammatic rainbow of pure colour.
Moreover, though it did not have nipple peepholes, it did
have clear panels over her breasts and the upper half clung
to her body, showing the powerful swing of her firm full
breasts and their delicious convex lines underneath leading
up to the tilting outwards-pointing nipples. In addition
139

there was another translucent panel at the top of her rear
cleavage, so that the beginning of that lovely cleft, dark
with mystery and illicit promise, was clearly visible.
Fiona wore a harness as underwear. A broad elastic band
led between her cheeks of her buttocks, spreading them
apart, firming them, making them pout so that each globe
of flesh appealed to the touch of a masculine hand bold
enough to adventure.
At the top of her cleft it divided to come down over her
belly crosswise. Each strap then went under, between her
legs, round the inner thigh to join again at her rear.
When Fiona was naked but for this strange device, it
caused her depilated gleaming mound to project even
more bulbously than usual. Between her legs, the twin
straps pressing against her inner thighs also pressed
against her labia so that when she parted her legs and lay
back, her sexual parts bulged outwards greedily, as if to
take for themselves what they longed for to give them
purpose and fruition.
Fiona stood for a moment, assessing herself in her
mirrors before leaving once more in pursuance of her plan.
The dress clung and shone with living three-dimensional
colour when she moved, and with subfusc richness when
she did not. Her excited breathing caused her proud,
partly-revealed bosom to lift and fall rhythmically. She
wore four-inch heels and they made her leg muscles taut
and bold. At their top her cradled, divided arse was at the
same time covered yet enticingly prominent.
She could feel the sweat from her lunchtime session with
Jamie still on her body. She could feel a faint stickiness
between her legs where she had not cleansed him from
herself. Her heart pounded, her nerves were playing up,
but she felt that none of this was amiss. It all fitted the part
she was about to play.
140

Chapter Eleven
A
s Fee drove slowly up the local ramp, she checked her
equipment. Her face shimmered in the gloom of the
darkened interior. Beside her was a box with gay wrapping
paper over it, such as one might use to giftwrap a toy for
a child. Also beside her was a tray of delicate instruments,
tiny screwdrivers, a soldering iron, some gold nodules and
some of platinum.
The melted computer was also there.
She programmed the car with her destination and as it
was made to do, it queried her peculiar order. She
reprogrammed the same set of commands and this time
they were accepted.
Soon after it had entered the highway, the car came to
a stop as she had ordered it to. As it stopped, she sprang
into action. Wearing gloves, she opened the door nearest
the fence and shut herself on the outside. She then broke
the lock with a laser pencil.
Back inside she removed the loosened fascia in ten
seconds flat. Now, delicately, flat' on her stomach, she
began to disconnect the Connet, working at her fastest
speed. After five minutes of concentrated work she was
141

able to slip the tray with all its multiple ceramic chips and
simple neuron web out from its aperture. She delicately
disconnected the hacking alarm and placed the Connet
carefully in the prepared box, packing it around and
dropping in the laser pencil on top.
Now she took the melted-down version of the same
thing, a toffee-ish tangle of components like burnt sugar,
and slotted it into the empty aperture. She began to connect
what was left of its structure to her car's controls.
The minutes ticked by.
She triggered the hacking alarm. Its signal could do
nothing to the good Connet now. She tightened the fascia
back in place and dropped the alarm and her tools in on
top of the Connet, with her gloves. She sealed the box and
shoved it into the luggage compartment.
Her eyes flicked round the car's interior. It looked right.
Through the open door she could hear the whirr of the
SkyPolice copter coming closer and closer. She reached
into the glove compartment, took out the syringe and with
a moue of distaste she opened her legs and squirted cold
semen up into her body. She arranged the three pubic hairs
round the mouth of her fanny. There was no time for
artistry, she thought with a bubble of hysterical laughter.
She thrust the syringe into her bag, hauled up her skirt,
forced the bodice of her lovely new dress apart and slapped
her own face a couple of times. She hit herself violently
on her vulva to bruise it and then flung herself back. As
a last gesture she touched salt to the corners of her eyes.
When the police found her she was crying, sprawled
back in her car, her sex exposed.
She heard the first man as he reached the open door.
'Hey,' he called out. 'The victim's still here.' He audibly
gulped as he took his first clear view of Fiona. He
remembered he was a policeman. 'Lady,' he said hoarsely.
'You OK?'
'The bastard, the bastard,' sobbed Fiona. She writhed a
little to give the trooper the full benefit of her oozing fanny.
'What's going on?' The second man was there. He saw
Fiona and made a sort of strangulated gasp.
142

'They raped me/ sobbed Fiona, trying ineffectually to
pluck her skirt down over herself.
'Here? They didn't take you?'
She struggled upright and now the first man was in the
car with her. She flung her arms round him and pressed
her wet face close.
'I'm so glad you are here. Why weren't you here earlier?
You could have saved me.'
'OK, lady. We'll get you to a doctor. We don't under-
stand why you weren't taken.'
Fiona pulled herself free and hitched her skirt most of
the way down, wiping her face. Tumbled black curls
spilled around her white face, framing it and highlighting
her long angled green eyes. Her perfume assailed the
troopers' nostrils and as she moved, her dress flickered
into brilliance. One perfect white pear-shaped breast
spilled free of the torn bodice of her dress.
'I don't know/ she said tragically. 'They were animals.'
Both troopers felt simultaneously their cocks jump with
jealousy for the pirates who had been uninhibited by
considerations of decency and uniform when confronted
with this luscious classy piece of female flesh.
'I had a gun/ Fiona continued. 'The pirate laughed and
took it off me and then suddenly he fell on me like a mad
beast. He did terrible things/ she added in a husky
whisper. She shut her eyes and let her long wet lashes
trembling with unshed tears lie on her cheeks. She needed
to keep their minds on sex, not crime. The last thing she
wanted was intelligent doubt.
She started to sob again. 'I heard the helicopter and they
ran away.'
The troopers had no difficulty in following the sequence
of events. Indeed, their problem was to tear their minds
away from visualising certain salacious details.
'A gun/ one of them was sufficiently in command of
himself to say. 'How come?'
'Loaded?' asked the other.
'Of course not. I tried to bluff him. I belong to the Glades
Gun Club. I was carrying the revolver in the car but I
143

wouldn't have ammunition of course. You know that. You
only get what you use.'
'Where's the gun now?'
'The pirate took it. Oh, oh, they've melted my car down.
What am I going to do?'
'You haven't been taken for ransom. I'm sorry, lady, but
you got off lightly. Your insurance will settle the car
damage.'
'What happened to me was far worse than ransom,'
whispered Fiona. 'Get me out of this.'
The troopers radioed for a tow to take this undrivable
car away to the repair shop. The computers were always
replaced as soon as the insurance gave the go-ahead, new
Connets coming direct from the factory by special delivery.
Fiona herself was taken to the police station by helicop-
ter, the troopers all solicitous help for the ravaged woman.
'Do you want to vidicom your husband?' they asked.
'No. Not yet. Not till I can see him and reassure him that
I am OK.'
She managed a tremulous knock-kneed walk that had
every man she came into contact with green with envy for
the pirate's experience.
At the station a doctor examined Fiona. She lay comfort-
ably whilst he slipped things up her fanny and found
evidence of male invasion. She could only hope that Jamie
had remained as honest as he appeared. If he had a
criminal record his DNA would be on file and his spunk
identified. She was relying on the dullness of his past
behaviour.
Wearing a clean police shirt to cover the nakedness of
her exposed bosom, Fiona was led to be interviewed by
the captain of police.
Like the troopers he was a big man, handsome in a
rugged way, with narrow blue eyes and pock-marked
skin. He approached the interview carefully, not sure if
she was hysterical after her recent experience.
'This interview is being recorded,' he stated at the outset.
'Would you like some other person present of your
choice?'
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'No, thank you,' she said huskily. 'I feel quite safe with
you.'
'Your name?'
'Fiona Jasmine Bronson Cambridge.'
There was a silence. The fraternity who owned the
beautiful monster machines was not large. They were also
the top most echelon of society, the richest and the most
powerful. The captain had a professional memory and
political wisdom.
'Are you Mrs Rollo Cambridge?' he asked eventually,
after his mental circuits had made the connection.
'Yes.' She moved slightly. Her dress exploded with light.
The captain's eyes flickered.
'You care to tell me what happened, Mrs Cambridge?
We can have your husband here, you know. Or a lady
friend, if you prefer.'
'I'd rather get this done with,' she said, raising tragic
eyes to meet his. 'I was driving along, not thinking, you
know.'
When the captain drove it was an old computer-assist
model, pre-Connet technology, and he had to use local
roads and handle his car and concentrate. Not for him the
powerways under the sky.
'I know,' he said.
'The car started to stop. I knew it was the pirates. We,
we joke about it, we women, you know. We don't believe
it will ever happen to us.'
She managed some tears at this point for the foolishness
of women.
'I was damned if they'd get me. I had the gun and when
they broke the doorlock I held it up.'
This was a detail she was proud of. She had lost her gun
to Will the night she had played pirate and been taken.
Now she could account for the loss convincingly. Guns
were tightly controlled and even if she had never gone to
the gun club again, she would have been checked up on.
Since people had been forbidden to carry arms, violent
deaths had dramatically decreased. The pirates hadn't
killed a victim in years.
145

'Then what happened?'
Fiona hung her head. 'This really big man pushed into
the car. He just laughed when he saw the gun. He reached
over and took it straight out of my hand. He said
something dirty to me, something very crude. I can't repeat
it. I felt so humiliated. I slapped his face.'
'You did what?'
'I slapped his face. He went berserk.'
'What did he look like?'
Fiona took her time. She mustn't be too good. 'He was
big, like you,' she faltered. 'Broad-shouldered. He looked
enormous in the car and I guess I was terrified.' She began
to pant, reliving the experience. 'He wore this black leather
gear all sweaty and shiny. His chest was almost bare and
he had tattoos. He was huge. And hairy.' She let her voice
rise and burst into tears. Now she had the image of a big
menacing gorilla in the car with her frail little self.
The captain moved protectively and Fiona came closer
to him on the couch.
'He was dark,' she said and as the words came out of
her mouth she saw the gaping wound in her story. It was
no good describing the black-haired Will when she had
blond pubic hairs in her crotch. And she mustn't be too
specific. The police might hold DNA records of several of
the pirates. 'He seemed to loom over me and block out the
light. Maybe he wasn't dark, it was just the light at his
back, but that was how he seemed to me.'
'Did he have an eyepatch?'
'An eyepatch,' she echoed stupidly. 'No. I don't think so.
He had a bandanna around his forehead and it was down
on his eyebrows, but I am sure he had two eyes. You mean
you know these people?'
'We know their leader. He wears an eyepatch. They call
him Will Kid.'
'Who?'
'Will Kid. He's a very dangerous man and a very
powerful one in his way. Bad all through. He leads the
biggest gang of pirates in the city in these parts. Others
only operate on his say-so. He's a hard man and we would
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love to get our hands on him and take him out of the scene.
You were lucky you didn't meet him.'
'Will Kid/ said Fiona, as if fascinated.
'That's not his real name. He uses it. It's some pirate's
name from back in the seventeenth century/
'What is his real name?'
'Henson Carne. A rogue and bloodthirsty villain. Yet I've
been told he's attractive in a way, to women, I mean. I
don't mean to insult you/ added the captain hastily.
'Captain, I want to tell you what really happened.' Fiona
spoke in a low voice, her lip trembling. 'It's why I don't
want Rollo here. I don't want him to realise how bad I
am.'
She laid a hand on the captain's chest, leaning forward
earnestly, allowing the shirt to come open so that her breast
was visible. She saw his eyes dip and come back to her
face. He didn't say anything.
'When the pirate was in the car/ she said shakily, 'he
had this terrific aura. I don't know whether he knew my
gun was loaded or not. I think he enjoyed the risk. I hit
him and he grabbed my arm and twisted it back behind
me and tore my dress. No man has ever treated me like
that. It made me feel really peculiar. He was so powerful
and I was so, so weak. Then he kissed me. Please, you
have to understand. Someone has to understand. These
people are mythic figures. They star in big Screen drama
all the time, impossibly romantic and sexy. And there I
was, being kissed by this incredible man. I didn't know if
he was an actor or the real thing. I was so confused. I
began to respond. I admit it. I began to respond to his hot
lips.'
The captain reached over and wiped a tear from her
cheek. 'You're scarred/ he said. 'How did you get hurt?'
'A silly accident at home.' Fiona liked the thin white line
left by the bullet. She could have had her skin treated but
she thought it gave her a wicked, sexy look.
'To what extent did you respond?' asked the captain. His
voice was low and gravelly, almost caressing.
'I gave him my breast.' Fiona took her hanging breast
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and held it up to the captain, as close to his face as she
could. It was blue-veined and porcelain in texture.
'He went to haul up my skirt,' she continued, keeping
her breast where it was and speaking in a low intimate
whisper. 'I lifted my bottom so he could do it more easily.
His mate was yelling at him to hurry up and he was
laughing. I felt mad. I was filled with lust. I thought I could
delay him and it pleased me. I took his hand right into
me, like this.'
She held the captain's eyes with her own. She took his
unresisting hand and led it between her parted legs, on
and into her fanny. He felt her jutting smoothness and the
warm wetness below and within. Nothing impeded his
hand in her groin. It slid to feel her arched taut buttocks
held by the webbing of her harness. A thumb slipped into
her whilst his fingers tried and failed to find her intimate
fleece. His face dropped so he could touch her breast with
his lips and Fiona put her arms round his neck and drew
him closer, into her body.
'You are very like the pirate,' she whispered. 'Big and
strong and very male. It was only when he got out his sex
and began to thrust towards me that I realised what I had
done. I had practically invited him into my body. I didn't
mean it. I was acting out a fantasy and suddenly it turned
to nightmare.' she moved on the captain's thumb so that
it went deeper within her.
'I understand,' he said. 'We all have our fantasies and
you lead a protected life, there in the Zoo. It's no wonder
you lost control.'
'I did. I admit it. I'm so ashamed. I wanted to be rogered
by this wild man who lived outside the law. It's so wicked.
I'm so wicked. And he fucked me really hard, you know.'
The captain swallowed.
'And I came, I had an orgasm. I said I was raped but
when the pirate took me, I had a sexual orgasm.' She
rotated her fanny on the captain's thumb and tasted the
sweat that broke out on his forehead. Rainbow light
flickered from her dress, dazzling his overloaded senses.
'He turned to his mate. "You want her," he yelled. I
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started to scream. The other one got into the car. I was
shouting "no, no, no", and then the helicopter was there
and the pirates were gone. I guess I passed out. I don't
even know if the second man took me.'
'I think you saved yourself by allowing that man to take
you. He probably would have raped you, anyway. Because
you inadvertently gave him some encouragement he took
longer and spoiled the kidnap. You have been a very clever
and a very brave woman.'
Fiona was holding the captain by the neck, riding up
and down on his thumb.
'You think so?' she whispered. 'I was living in a fantasy
and it turned horrid.'
'Sometimes,' said the captain, 'you can't resist acting out
a fantasy.' He removed his hand from under Fiona and
stood up, releasing his clothes. She fell back on the couch,
watching him.
'I'll edit the frigging tape,' he said. 'No man can resist
you. You are the most beautiful, the most bewitching thing
I have ever seen. I should think even Kid himself would
wave away half a million credits of lost ransom money to
have you. You're worth anything.'
He came over her, a big man with a paunch. His prick
was short and thick and full of juice. As he rose and fell,
taking her firmly but without frills, her dress shimmered
surreally.
Fiona loved it. She didn't need to do this. It was no part
of her plan. She did it because she liked it, because she
was elated at what she had learned about Will, and
because the captain reminded her of Will in some subtle
way. There is not that much difference between the hunter
and the hunted.
She had herself played pirate and if he had proof of that,
this man could put her inside a prison for tens of years.
He could break Rollo and ruin his life. He was her
adversary, her dupe, and she adored having him risk his
job to lay her.
She screwed with abandon, clinging to his tough work-
hardened body. He was grizzled, an older man than she
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was used to, but it did him no disservice in her eyes.
Moreover, as a policeman, this man risked his life to
protect her and her sort. The pirates and the police were
both armed and occasionally one or the other was killed.
They played life for real.
Fiona was caught in her own fantasy. Almost she
believed the tale she had told.
She could only hope Jamie's spunk was not on record.
If that was so, she would have been a little too clever. But
the congress with the captain was insurance, in its way.
She lost herself and her doubts and thoughts in climax.
There was no problem with orgasm here. This bull of a
man was not Jamie, and though she fooled him, he was a
genuine threat to her, a real power. Fiona loved power.
They took her home much later. She begged to be left alone
with Rollo though they offered to come in and explain and
help. She said she could manage.
She went first to shower and to douche and to change
into a loose robe. With wet hair and looking surprisingly
childlike, free of make-up and sophisticated clothing, she
joined Rollo in their sitting room. She knew already that
bad behaviour seemed to cleanse her temporarily. She
looked her most innocent, her most saintly, after her
wickedest behaviour.
He was bathed in music, a glass in his hand, half asleep.
A sheaf of specifications lay disregarded at his side.
Fiona went over to him and knelt before him and laid
her head on his knee.
'I missed you,' he said. It was not a condemnation. He
touched her wet hair.
'I'm very tired, Rollo.'
'Are you all right?'
'Yes.'
She saw his blue eyes crinkle as he grew puzzled. Then
they went cold. She could tell what he was thinking.
'I'm going to take a pill and go to sleep. I'll tell you in
the morning.'
'Should I know now?'
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'It's all right, Rollo. I promise.'
'I'm on satellite tomorrow from eight o'clock our time.'
'Can you take the evening off? I'll do a special meal. I
have news and I think you'll be pleased but I am so tired
I can hardly keep my head up right now.'
He was thinking she had a lover. 'You know I trust you,
Fee,' he said.
'I know.'
'I couldn't share you.'
Her senses thrilled. He might not be getting it up her,
but his feelings were still strong enough to make him
consider her his territory and not to be violated by others.
The problem was that his sexual motor needed overhaul-
ing and getting back to work and Fiona had confidence in
herself as chief mechanic.
'Look forward to tomorrow night,' she said lightly. 'Keep
it free, darling. We'll enjoy ourselves.'
She got to her feet and blew him a kiss.
She slept late the next day and woke feeling very good.
Successful impudence gave a much brighter glow to the
day that tedious virtue ever did for her. She rang for Janine
and invited the girl into her bed. They cuddled for a while
and Janine played dreamily between Fiona's legs, sweetly
fingering the erotic flesh. Whilst she frotted Fiona's clitoris
into delicious arousal, Fiona kissed her mouth and breasts.
Her mind ran on the comparison between the captain of
police and the maid, the soft youth of the one and the hard
sexual wisdom of the other. Janine's fingers were dear little
intruders. The captain's thumb had been as thick as a
slender penis, and as knowing.
At last, and with reluctance, she drew back. 'Listen,' she
said. 'I'm going to get dressed now. I have a couple of
calls to make and then I want to go shopping. I need a
dress and I need some fancy food. I am wining and dining
Rollo tonight because I have things to tell him that will
please him. I know I've been neglecting you lately because
our affairs have been a little complicated but you mustn't
take it to heart. I love you, baby.'
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'I'll help you to look wonderful tonight/ said Janine.
'What about the dress you bought yesterday? Has Mr
Cambridge seen it? It's so beautiful.'
Fee smiled. It was a good idea to wear the same dress
she had committed her various crimes in. It added a
piquancy to the coming occasion. It was a pity that she
alone would be able to appreciate that.
'It's in the linen basket/ she said. 'It's been torn. Can you
see if it can be mended? It needs laundering too. If you
can fix it, I'll wear it.'
She spent a pleasant day. She informed the insurance
company about the car and they checked immediately with
the police who informed them that the car had indeed been
hacked and taken off the highway in an undrivable
condition, and that there was independent confirmation
that Mrs Cambridge had been assaulted though not kid-
napped. Jamie's spunk was earning its living. The insur-
ance company agreed to forward funds to Fiona's account
for the new Connet. Then Fiona had the repair shop
holding her car send over her luggage from it by special
delivery. She explained it was a children's computer and
was fragile and so could they handle it with especial care.
The bank informed her when the money was credited to
her account. She moved the money straight into one of
Rollo's business accounts. She took delivery of her own
Connet and unwrapped it. She rewrapped it expertly using
the box she had got from Jamie containing the hacked
Connet that he had stolen for her. Now her own perfect
Connet was in an official autofactory box. She sent it by
special delivery, using a different company, to the repair
shop. The repair shop installed it and the car was fully
functioning and back in her personal hangar by the
evening.
So far so good.
She concocted a meal based around shrimps embedded
in part frozen fresh pineapple pieces, splinters of sharp
fruit and ice containing the salty morsels, with a walnut
and mayonnaise salad, asparagus tips in lemon juice butter
and honey ants. Then she bathed, allowing Janine to
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sponge her gently all over, lingering in the nooks and
crannies of her body to remind her pleasantly of their
presence. As she lazed there in the scented foam, eyes
half-closed, Janine titillating her private places, it occurred
somewhat naughtily to Fiona that one day in the distant
future, when she was tired of Janine or Janine of her, it
might be nice to have a male maid. Someone young, it
should be, maybe eighteen, a tender bud of new-fledged
manhood. It would please her to have some golden boy
to service her body and care for it, before getting Rollo to
satisfy her lust.
Janine washed and dried and dressed her hair in artful
confusion, a silky tangle that invited the hand to enter.
Then Janine oiled her body all over so that her skin had a
dull pearlised lustre and she gleamed and faintly caught
the light.
The rainbow dress was perfect. Fee slid into it quite
naked, it being her sole garment.
Rollo was late but he came. That was the main thing.
She sat very still in the room when he came in. For a
moment he didn't see her, for when she was still, the dress
was a dull silvery-black. The table was laid with beautiful
food and there was greenish-white Portuguese wine and
a heavy ruby burgundy.
Rollo was tired. He stood a moment, dressed in his usual
midnight blue, his eyes a bright gleam as he rubbed at his
shoulder muscles. Fiona knew she could do him better
than that.
'Hello,' she said, her voice pitched low with the slight
husky catch in it that made it so potent a weapon in her
sexual armoury.
'I didn't see you there. This looks very nice.'
He came down two steps and she rose to meet him, a
cascade of brilliant colour and light. His breath hissed.
'Do you want to bathe before we eat?' she asked.
'Nothing will spoil.'
He nodded gratefully. She followed him to his bathroom
and took his discarded clothes. She ran water for him and
put herbs and minerals and oils in it. He stepped in and
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lay back, permitting her to perform for him what Janine
had performed for her.
She sponged his body very gently all over whilst he half
slept in the buoyant watery caress. She lifted his manhood
and washed under and around his balls, between his legs
and within the cleft of his buttocks. Gradually his lassitude
changed from one of exhaustion to a pleasing erotic daze
as the sponge stroked in and around his groin. He was
lapped in sensuality, no demands being made upon him
except that he enjoy himself and relax.
Eventually he climbed out and Fee dried him and made
him lie down. She oiled him, entering every crevice, and
massaged him, releasing the tension knotted into his
muscles. It was whilst he was lying on his back that she
became aware he was watching her. Those very blue eyes
were unwavering.
She was a shimmer of three-dimensional colour as she
moved down on to his sexual equipment. She massaged
his penis until it hardened and she stroked the lengthening,
thickening shaft.
She let him feel her hands on his balls, cupping and
cradling, lifting and separating and gently rolling. She
pushed his knees apart and went behind his balls, stroking
and knuckling at his rear entrance.
His penis curved gracefully, half erect. Fiona ignored its
lissom invitation and finished the massage.
He put on a short black robe, roughly belted, with a
dragon climbing up its back. They went through to eat.
'I love the dress,' he said. 'It's worthy of you.'
She smiled and handed him the notification from the
bank of the money in the company account.
He looked at it, puzzled. Money was his working
resource and he had a good idea all the time of what was
where and this was a colossal sum he knew nothing
about.
'I don't understand,' he said.
'It's the money for the patent. Is it enough?
'Have you sold the car? It's worth more than this, Fee.'
'The car is in the hangar. It's perfect. Is this enough?'
154

'Yes. More than enough if I use it as a credit base. Where
did it come from, Fee?'
She smiled, a Mona Lisa smile.
'Your jewellery? I don't want that.'
'No. I don't think I own that much.'
'What, then?'
'I'll tell you after we've eaten.'
His eyes flicked up to the wall. Where Jamie had a giant
Screen, the Cambridges kept their collection of original art,
Picasso, Poussin, Jackson Pollock.
'Fiona,' he said. 'You go out a lot and you dress
fabulously and you are dog tired when you get home.
What have you been doing?'
'I haven't whored for it, Rollo.' She was amused. She
was almost telling the truth.
His hand trembled on his glass. His prick retained the
memory of her hands, so recently stroking and arousing
him. 'I told you I couldn't share you, Fee. I know you are
wild. That scar. You are so beautiful it drives me crazy.
Sometimes I wonder why some other man doesn't try to
take you away from me.'
'What would you do?'
'I'd kill him. Or you.'
'Then it's a good thing I'm not going away, Rollo. Eat
your food.'
By the time they were eating fruit and drinking a luscious
grapey wine, they had moved to the couch. Fiona told him
what she had done.
'I've pulled an insurance scam.'
'What?'
'I acquired a computer in meltdown. I took the car out
on the highway and disconnected our Connet from it and
installed the hacked one. I triggered the hacking alarm and
when the police came I said the pirates had attacked me.'
'Don't tease me, Fee. I'm not in the mood.'
'I was at the police station last night. Today they
confirmed that I had been hacked to the insurance com-
pany who released the money, which I transferred into
this account. The repair shop re-installed the original
155

computer, though they don't know that. We have the car
back. And the money.'
'It's illegal.'
'It sure as hell is.'
He started to laugh. 'You crazy witch. I almost believe
you. What if you had been caught out?'
'You'd get visiting rights to my cell.'
'You planned all this for me?'
'For us.'
Her eyes were hooded as she watched him. He wasn't
stupid and his mind was working over what she had told
him.
'How did you explain why you weren't kidnapped?'
'I told the police I had been raped on the spot and the
HeliPolice arriving scared the pirates off.'
'Were you raped?' His voice was cool.
'There were no pirates.'
'Weren't you checked at the police station? Why wasn't
I called?'
'I begged them not to. Sure I was checked.'
'Then they know you weren't raped.'
'I had semen in me.'
Rollo's face went dark. He reached a hand into her hair
and gripped it tightly. 'Whose?'
She didn't answer. She felt a rising excitement. So he
really cared.
His hand slid round and held her throat. Her pulse
worked madly, fluttering under his palm like a trapped
wild thing.
'Whose?' he said again, his voice bitter and cold as a
glacier.
'I milked you, you bastard, whilst you were asleep.'
He stared at her, working it over, seeing if he believed
her. His hand started to relax.
'You clever, beautiful, magical bitch,' he whispered. 'You
succubus.'
He kissed her hungrily and she gave herself to him
wildly. He lifted her up, sliding her dress up over her
naked hips. His robe fell open over his erect golden sex.
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He lowered her onto it, slowly, allowing her sex to flower
open around the head of his prick and engulf it and
swallow it inside so that he sank deep upwards into her
hot clinging wet flesh. He sat her down in his lap and
pushed upwards till he was fully sheathed within her and
could feel her tight pressure all around his swollen muscle.
He kissed her greedily. 'You vampire,' he said. 'Thief.
Criminal.'
Fiona clenched her interior muscles and he laughed, his
eyes brilliant and as blazing with colour as her laser dress.
She tipped wine from her glass into his mouth and then
lapped up what spilled. He fell with her on him and felt
her rip his robe apart and kiss his chest, sucking his
nipples. She dripped wine into the cup at the base of his
throat and she drank from the skin.
His shaft swelled with pleasure and he arched up with
her riding him like a horse. He reached for and found the
fastening of her dress and released the bodice so that it fell
away from her. Her beautiful pendant breasts swung free,
the flesh pearlised and dully glowing, the nipples dark
with lustrous promise, sweetmeats of desire.
Rollo caught a breast with his mouth and felt its soft
weight on his face as he nuzzled up into it. He found the
nipple and sucked it into his mouth, feeling it firm and
lengthen and tasting it with his tongue. He sucked hard
so that the areola came within him and the breast dis-
tended. Fiona moaned and he felt her tighten round his
prick. Her sex gloved him closely, clinging, sucking,
gripping him. He sobbed for breath and then pulled out
of her, knocking her sideways on to the deep furry pile of
the floor covering. She went on her back and he was over
her immediately. He put his slick-wet prick between her
lovely breasts and rolled it there, feeling in their yielding
pillowly fullness a cool clasp after the heat of her volcanic
interior.
He moulded her breasts, one in each hand, and mastur-
bated between them. Then he moved back and rolled Fiona
on to her front. He stood up at her head, facing her back,
and he lifted her legs right up off the ground so that her
157

body arched in a hard curve, her head at his feet. He
supported her thighs and held them apart with his hands.
Standing between her legs, holding her helpless, he laid
his stiff prick in her slit forced moistly openly before him.
Her bare bulging mound strained and he frotted himself
the length of her vulva, allowing the weight of his erect
member to hold itself down on her dark quivering flesh.
Then he removed it and crouched down, sinking his face
into her slit. He sucked her whole mound as it thrust
bluntly into the air. Then, remaining straddled over her,
he sucked her to climax.
Her musk-fruit was divine, dark and delicious and heady
on his tongue. Her convolutions of flesh stretched in his
mouth and he licked harshly her full length before lapping
deep within her tumid hole. He felt it fluttering and the
muscles in it contracting around his thrusting forceful
tongue. He ran his tongue round inside her and set his
lips to suck as though he would draw her into his mouth
entire. He bit her vulva and felt it vibrate between his teeth.
Then his mouth was flooded with her wine and he heard
her sob as she came. He bit and sucked down and then
finally he allowed her to roll down and over on to her
back, lying on the floor. Her eyes were wicked green slits
and in her suffused face the livid white line of the scar
stood out clearly.
Rollo pulled off her dress, his balls aching for penetration.
He opened her slack heavy legs and knelt between them,
finding her wet little clitoris quiveringly erect. He thumbed
it and tongued it and then he tipped wine from his own
glass into her body. Bending his head he drank from the
chalice of her sex. Then he reached over to where the
remaining food was. He found a meringue stuffed with
cream and with one firm blow he crushed it between her
buttocks so that the cream oozed and spread and smeared
all around her rear.
He assaulted the mess with his face, his tongue darting
and probing till he found and penetrated her greasy
creamy rear orifice.
Fiona's whole body was jerking with desire as she
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attempted to masturbate herself with his tongue in her
backside. He felt the rapid muscular contractions of her
valve and he knew her whole vagina was flexing power-
fully.
He tormented her no longer. His cock was crazed to be
inside her. He had always adored her greediness and lack
of restraint. He wiped his face and looked down at his
frantic pleading wife, desperate to be filled.
He remembered her talk of rape and his skin flushed
darkly. 'I'd kill the man who took you against your will,'
he said harshly.
'Fuck me,' she croaked.
His hand groped for and found a second cake. With
Fiona watching him he impaled his rigid member through
its sticky structure. Leaving it speared on his sex he began
very slowly to insert himself, at long last, into Fiona's
belly.
The bulbous red head ruptured the tight ring of her
entrance and slid on fatly within the wet slimy dark of
her. As he pushed, the meringue cracked and broke away
so that cream spilled out over his shaft, into his pubic hair
and on to his swollen balls.
He felt the cool cream and the slightly rough meringue,
the whole sticky ooze of it, in contrast to her slick wet
sliding satin heat. His prick was silky hot and sticky cool.
He pushed slowly his full length savouring the clench of
her on him, knowing she was gripping him as tightly as
she was able. Her vagina was as clever and tricksy as a
laundered bank account, as a creative tax return, infinitely
rich and endlessly satisfying. He remembered after one of
his earliest big deals stuffing banknotes up inside her,
seeing how much money he could fit within her, then all
the fun of getting it out again. He had masturbated himself
into handfuls of money that was already wet with her
juices. She had eaten a hundred-credit note smeared with
his sperm before his eyes, laughing as she did so.
His cock rippled and he had to take care not to come.
Her sex, its craving for his full swollen muscle at last
answered, tried to milk him, gripping and sucking at him,
159

reluctant to allow his withdrawal before his renewed
thrust.
His own eyes were slitted as he concentrated ferociously
on drawing out the pleasure of intercourse to gluttonous
lengths.
He drove in again and again, seeing her eyes were
unfocused now and knowing that in his mastery of her
body he could take her to heights of sexual experience she
was unable to find anywhere else. She was high on him,
drugged with sex, her pupils black pinpricks in the
ice-green of her eyes.
He felt her lose control. She vibrated on his shaft and
then she orgasmed, seething round his penis so hard he
thought it would split and burst open before his spunk
was released. He gave a great cry as his balls exploded
and violently he thrust and thrust and thrust again.
Fiona came back to herself as her vagina fluttered in the
aftermath of climax. Little aftershudders shook her.
She was soft and loose and trembling as she cradled his
spent cock within her, her post-orgasmic ripples soothing
Rollo's throbbing, stroking it into peace. Spunk trickled
from her entrance around the base of his shaft to mix with
the violated cake where their thighs rubbed together.
'You superb bitch,' he said hoarsely. He withdrew
himself slowly from her, watching his slimy shrinking
prick leave her wallow bit by bit. A golden glow spread
from his peaceful balls up through his stomach. His prick
struck his thigh softly with a wet thud and he grinned.
Fee was watching him from under heavy lids, her mouth
slightly curved and her whole body soft and tension-free.
Rollo looked down at what he had just vacated. The
luscious flesh had bruised and darkened to a plummy glow.
The labia were puffy and sticky and the slit itself dribbled
cream-flecked spunk in a pearly trail across the marble
tones of her pale thighs. The upreared dome of her naked
mound was warm satin, pale gold above white and purple.
She was a sluttish queen of lust, sumptuously equipped
to strip a man raw. She was his. Rollo bent his golden
head and gorged on their come.
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Fiona was dizzy and spaced-out with satisfied desire.
She was aware of Rollo's cool gentle mouth about her
parts, cleaning her and bringing her back to life. She
opened her eyes wider and slowly began to focus on the
beautiful man at her sex. She smiled a wide catlike smile
of pure satisfaction. At that moment she would have died
happy.
Rollo lifted his head and looked at her. She saw his blond
mane was almost black with sweat. He smiled back at her,
then swept her up into his arms and carried her through
to their bedroom.
He laid her out on the bed and placed himself so that he
was face down in her groin, feet to the pillow, his head
resting comfortably on her thigh. He reached out with his
tongue and vibrated her clitoris sharply so that pinpricks
of desire radiated up through her love-sodden body. He
spread his legs so that he straddled her and she could look
down into his sex.
'Fuck my arse, baby, the way I like it,' he said.
She reached for the oil and began to massage his rear.
She took her time, savouring his small muscular contrac-
tions. Then she held his buttocks apart with her hands and
licked the oily place, pushing with her tongue and feeling
his tightness reject her.
Now she put in a finger and rolled it about. He moved
pleasurably and bit her clitoris gently so that she was
speared again with little lustful prickles.
Fiona opened his backside and slid in a second finger.
He groaned and writhed on her as she worked them
slowly into him as deep as they would go.
After a while she got a third finger in. Now he was
shuddering on her hand and sweating, his valve held right
open as she tortured him gently with her three fingers,
trying to hold them wide apart to make the violation more
severe.
'That's enough,' he said from between clenched teeth.
'The hell it is,' she snarled arid she reached for the
vibrator she now kept her side of the bed. She slotted the
terrible thing in, driving it slowly home, and she heard
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him howl and jump. Joyously she switched it on and
watched greedily as it shook in his riven orifice. He
squirmed and writhed before her fascinated eyes, the
plastic column clenched between his buttocks and fever-
ishly jerking.
She began to smack his buttocks, seeing the imprint of
her hand on his smooth skin. She smacked with as much
sting as she was able and his cheeks began to glow hotly,
still with the automatic device leaping inside his arse.
'I'm going to come,' he cried out, half-strangled. Imme-
diately she released his arse by switching the thing off and
pulling it until it was almost out, with only its head inside
him. She wormed down the bed and took his gland into
her mouth. She stroked his stomach gently to allow him
to recover a little.
'Come inside me, Rollo,' she asked. 'Unless you think
you are good for one more time.'
'I don't know, honey. I'm out of practice.'
Fee slipped him safely within her and with delight felt
him expanding to fill her. She sighed with pleasure and
ran her hands through his sweat-soaked hair. At that
moment she could not have cared less if she never saw
another pirate. This man was enough, more than enough,
if only he could be brought to do this more often.
Without him even moving he was bringing her up to
climax again, so beautiful was his growing cock within
her. She felt her own texture change and began to pump
herself on him.
He came quickly but she was with him and they clung
fiercely until at last they fell apart, dizzy with each other.
'You sensational thief,' said Rollo. 'You should have been
a pirate yourself.'
He fell asleep.
162

Chapter Twelve
T
ansFlow threw a launch party.
This was an in-the-flesh social occasion to wine and
dine and entertain everyone who might be of use in the
venture. Thus there were politicians, financiers, top con-
struction people, lawyers, accountants and government
men - anyone, in short, who might help with getting the
new company successfully floated. The gathering was
leavened with media people and celebs, all to add dec-
orative gloss. TransFlow needed to look important, suc-
cessful and confident at this stage. It only needed enough
backers to believe in it for the dream to become reality.
They hired a hotel up in the snow zone where the air
was thin. The guests came by microlight, helibuzz, heli-
copter or private plane.
Fee had already been interviewed by the media in her
home concerning TransFlow, in which she was playing an
increasing role. Her combination of intellectual mastery
and sexual heat cast a spell over her audience that her
exotic beauty did nothing to lessen. Fee Cambridge was
the stuff of men's dreams.
The evening began with the directors, including Fee and
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Rollo, welcoming their guests, all two hundred of them.
Then they all sat down to eat. Conscious that every
woman present would attempt to outshine her neighbour,
Fee avoided peacocking. All the men were in sober formal
black and white, Rollo looking indecently handsome in
the severe clothing. To emulate them Fee wore a dress of
stark simplicity, bone-white, dead-white, just a pale
shaped sheath from cleavage to thigh without any dec-
oration or relief save that provided by her voluptuous
curves within it. Round her neck she wore a fine strip of
black velvet. She mimicked the men in her clothes, and
the contrast highlighted how very different her body was
from theirs. The dress clung so that her shape was
intimately revealed, her pendant breasts, her slim thighs,
her smooth belly, and the dress was almost the same
colour as her skin.
Her black hair was strained hard back shaping her skull,
its thickness hidden in confinement. She wore no jewellery
whatsoever, the only woman in the building not to do so.
She was all white and black with only her green eyes
lending her colour. They were the precise colour of the
Rhone where it spates from the heart of the glacier.
She should have looked dowdy. Instead it was she who
looked magnificent, whilst the richly dressed women
around her looked cheap and their diamonds but gaudy
glitter.
She drew every man's eye including that of her husband.
After the meal and Rollo's brief speech, there was an
entertainment whilst the guests digested their food and
cracked nuts and bad jokes and drank liqueurs.
The hall dimmed and a murmur of talk stilled as the
players came out. There was a ripple of delighted shock
as they entered and a burst of spontaneous applause. The
man and two women wore nothing but a tiny black satin
cache-sexe each, yet their bodies gleamed with oil and rioted
in a fantasy of colours. All three of them were painted all
over, every scrap of skin, so that colour and pattern and
story blazed over their shining skins.
The man was an animal, a black animal with golden
164

spots rippling over his hide. His legs and arms were striped
gold and tan and buff and chestnut, and he wore a tail, a
long firm black and orange stripy tail. Fiona was irresis-
tibly reminded of the tigers around the Zoo.
The newly-formed Publicity Department of TransFlow
was earning its keep. They needed to be stylish right now.
There would be a time for mud and machines later on.
The two women were clothed in the jungle. Rich dark
green exploded on fronds painted across their shoulders
and upper bodies. Butterflies flamed across their breasts.
A dragonfly shimmered, his long body aquiver over their
stomachs, tail down, disappearing behind that scrap of
black material.
Each woman had a gorilla on her back and snakes
writhing up her legs. Green grew upwards from their feet.
Somewhere, drums beat.
The three began to dance together, their bodies an ecstatic
union of fecund life. They ducked and curved and twined
sinuously round each other, a dazzle of dark colour and
life.
As the drumbeat became an insistent urge to copulation,
their dance became more suggestive, more arousing, and
the tail of the man-tiger slid between the thighs of the girls
and appeared to have a life of its own.
The company got a little hot. Fee found that her vagina
pulsed gently in the rhythm of the drumbeat.
Finally the three performers were leaping up and down
in a frenzy, throwing their upper bodies about in an
apparent abandonment to sexual craving and satisfaction.
Yet they barely touched one another and never lost the
insistent beat nor their pose and balance.
They danced to a frenetic and indecent climax, the music
stopped and the lights came up. The three linked hands,
bowed and ran off.
The audience howled its delight.
Now was the time to mingle and dance and socialise.
The hotel staff cleared all the debris of the meal away and
served drinks. Fiona and Rollo touched lips and went to
do their separate duties.
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Ten minutes later, talking to a government official with
more real power in the land than many a politician, Fee
remembered that not long ago she had lain naked over
the body of an outlaw whilst another man forced his
muscle into her unwilling body. Unwilling to begin with.
She had even begun to enjoy the degradation of having
two men take her, one after the other, without consulting
her will.
That sordid violation contrasted oddly with the luxurious
wealth that now lapped about her. She could see that the
official she was talking to was turned on by her. Would
he want her still if he knew she had chosen to rut in the
mire with a pirate?
Even the catfight with Mammet had more reality than
the company she was now in. She would bet that she could
get better sex down there in the city than from any man
present in this gathering of the great and the good and the
powerful.
Except for Rollo.
After a time she made her way over to Jamie. He looked
a little bewildered but he was holding his own, more so
than the girl he had brought with him, a pretty bourgeoise.
Fee behaved beautifully.
'Jamie/ she cried huskily. 'I'm so glad you came.'
'I was surprised to get the invitation/ he said. His eyes
took her in hungrily.
'Jacomo is in charge tonight. He's our head of PR. But
Rollo and I fixed the guest list with him. I wanted you to
come, Jamie. Now, introduce me to your friend.'
'Sonya, this is Fee Cambridge. Sonya Marston.'
'Hello, Mrs Cambridge. This is very splendid tonight.'
'Isn't it? All meant to impress those with deep pockets.
We need them right now. But call me Fee, Sonya. Jamie
and I go way back. I used to work at the autofactory, you
know.'
'Jamie said.' It was clear Sonya hadn't believed him till
now.
'May I borrow him, Sonya? I would like to dance
with him if I may.'
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'Go ahead/ said the girl with a little laugh. She had little
option.
As they swirled away into the crowd, Fee became
intimate.
'It's good to see you, really good/ she murmured
throatily into Jamie's ear.
'You've not been back to the house.'
'No. I've been fantastically busy with the company
launch. And Rollo is a little suspicious. Like all guys who
roam, he is very possessive. I can't afford to lose him,
Jamie. Please understand that.'
'It's your brutal frankness and self-interest that turn me
on so much, you witch.'
'Yes. I can be myself with you. I don't have to pose as a
good girl.' She laughed and shimmied closer to him. Jamie
groaned in his throat.
'Now, to get to business. The reason why I invited you
tonight is because I have developed new software for
TransFlow. I'm patenting it and setting up the computer
department. I need a reliable top manager. One who can
work with people and get the best from them, one who
knows how to hire and fire, and one I can trust to have
absolute loyalty to the company. To me.'
'Are you offering me a job?'
'Yes I am. At about twice your current salary. But there's
a catch.'
'Which is?'
'If TransFlow fails, your job vanishes. No security.'
'And if TransFlow succeeds?'
'You might be able to buy a car in a couple of years.'
'It's quite an offer.'
'You have a week. Call me and let me know. I need
someone and it's growing exponentially at the moment.
I'll have the legal department mail you a sample contract
of employment. High risk, high rewards. Shape up or get
out. No room for mistakes. You understand?'
'I understand.'
'The risk will be reduced, however, by the patent.'
'I'm not with you.'
167

'Even if TransFlow gets rocky, I will be able to sell the
software. I could set up a marketing company quite
independent of TransFlow. If you were not personally part
of the failure, I would guarantee you the transition to that
company. So unless it was your own fault, there would
have to be two company failures before you were out of
work. And you would have enhanced skills and be
re-employable, in that event.'
'It sounds good, Fee. You make it sound good.'
'If you decided to leave us and took more than your
experience elsewhere, we would grind your balls to dust,
Jamie. We don't allow our systems to be pillaged. We
expect loyalty and if we don't get it, we use all the power
at our command to crush.'
'I believe you, you cold-hearted bitch. The effect it has
on me is making me want to rip that indecent dress off
your body and synch with you here in the middle of all
these people. I'd like to make those icy-clear eyes of yours
cloud over.'
Fiona grinned. There was no doubt that Jamie had come
on terrifically these last few years. The guy had backbone.
However, it was best to get things crystal clear. 'Sex is not
part of the contract, Jamie.'
'I know. You made one contract and that's with Rollo.
The rest of us get what's left over. I don't know why we
bother. You bewitch, Fee. There's black magic in you.'
She laughed, delighted.
'How did you get on with the computer I got you?7
'The what?'
'The melted Connet I stole for you and risked my job
for, dammit.'
'Oh, that. I got too busy, I threw it away.'
Then things got bad again. Work was fine but Rollo
seemed to have forgotten his re-arousal. Fiona felt that her
appetite was whetted for him and things were worse than
ever now that he had turned monkish again. Of course,
there was her half-started plan involving Janine.
Janine now routinely bathed her and massaged her
168

intimately and sucked Fee's sex till she rolled with pleasure
at the girl's knowing lips. In return she kissed and played
with Janine till the girl was all one red sexual flush. But
always she remained careful not to rupture that precious
membrane.
Janine's sexual awakening changed her, so that she even
walked differently. She carried her body with a proud
assurance that made her more succulent than ever. Her
youthfulness highlighted the voluptuous resonances that
had developed in her flesh. She was a fig ripe for bursting.
'Darling,' said Fiona one day. 'Come to my bedroom
tonight.'
'Tonight?'
'Yes.' Fiona named the time. 'Come then. Don't be
afraid.'
'I'm not afraid,' said Janine, and she smiled.
Fiona had bought sleeping pills at half the strength Rollo
usually had and substituted them. He was very tired and
slept heavily, but he was only drugged to half the extent
he thought he was.
At the appointed time Janine came. Usually they played
in her bedroom. This was something new.
'Now,' whispered Fiona. 'Take off your robe, sweetie.'
Janine obliged, a triumphant peachy bloom on her skin.
'Climb on the bed.'
'Won't he wake?'
'I don't think so. Not properly. Here, come between us.'
Janine stretched herself between Fee and Rollo. Fiona
leant over the girl and began to touch Rollo. Skilfully she
aroused him a little.
Apart from Rollo himself on that one other occasion,
Janine had still not touched a man. She watched breathless.
'Now stroke him.' Fiona guided Janine's hand and
tremblingly the girl touched Rollo's sleeping flesh.
He quivered.
Fiona encouraged Janine to cup his balls, to hold them
and get to know them. She taught Janine how to play with
a man but not hurt him in such a tender place.
Janine was an avid learner.
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Rollo stirred in his sleep and murmured.
'Let your breast press against him,' whispered Fee.
Janine obeyed. Rollo moved and his lips formed against
the breast. 'Fee,' he muttered.
'Touch his prick again,' ordered Fiona. Her eyes glittered.
It excited her to see Janine at his sleeping vulnerable places.
It excited her because Janine obeyed her and Rollo knew
nothing of what they did with him.
'Use your lips,' she said. She wanted to see Janine
go down on him.
The girl took Rollo's flaccid member into her mouth and
rolled it on her tongue like a fine wine. Fiona smiled,
catlike, and allowed her hand to slide under Janine's
buttocks. She stroked the warm soft outer pussy whilst
Janine gently sucked her husband. The girl sighed and
squirmed.
'You realise Rollo is a little out of the ordinary,' said Fee.
'He's fabulous,' said Janine thickly.
'I mean he's circumcised, darling. Did you realise?'
Janine released Rollo's cock and looked at it lovingly. 'I
thought he was a little different from the men on the Screen
but you can't ask anyone about something like that. You
look so stupid.'
Fee reached over Janine and lifted Rollo's member. He
murmured again and the two women grinned wickedly
at each other.
'See here,' said Fiona. 'This is his glans, permanently
exposed because his foreskin has been removed. You
already know the little eye where his juice comes out.'
'I long for the day.'
'Moi aussi, cherie. Being circumcised is supposed to be
cleaner. And it desensitises the tip so that he can protract
intercourse.'
Janine blushed and looked into Rollo's groin. Then, before
the eyes of the two women, Rollo came erect. He muttered
in his sleep and his hand jerked. His eyeballs rolled from
side to side under his closed lids and his hand came round
and grasped his manhood. He began roughly to masturbate
himself, stopping every so often. His lips moved.
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Fiona could feel Janine trembling. She pressed her own
naked length against the warm softness of the girl and felt
excitement course through her. She let a hand come round
and she clasped a breast, holding the nipple.
Rollo suddenly ejaculated. Janine jerked convulsively as
the pearly white stream gushed erratically from the end
of Rollo's prick. He sighed and smiled and rolled on to his
side, falling into a deeper level of sleep.
Fee pulled Janine round and stuffed the girl's fingers into
her own opening. She began to ride up and down on them,
wishing they were longer and harder, desperate to com-
plete her climax.
When she came, she kissed Janine passionately, rubbing
breast to breast, stretching herself out and massaging
Janine's fingers with her wet pussy. She had all but lost
control, seeing Rollo like that, and she hoped she had not
frightened the girl off.
She pulled back and looked at her. 'School's over for
tonight,' she said softly.
'I look forward to the next lesson,' whispered Janine.
After the maid had gone back to her own quarters, Fee
looked at her husband savagely. Her thoughts had been
turning back to Will Kid recently and now her eyes
hardened and became brilliant as she thought of being
back down there in the city with him, risking everything.
His big rough body, his harsh unpredictable ways, his
conferral of sexual bliss - she wanted to go back. She
wanted more. She was hungry for him. She wasn't yet
ready to settle for the respectable life.
She had an idea. She had called herself Skelton to Will
Kid because she had in mind the story of Barbara Skelton,
lovely, bored and wicked, who had gone out into the night
to play at being a highwayman. Barbara had begun by
enjoying the dangers of a life of crime, holding up coaches
at gunpoint and robbing her friends and neighbours. She
had gone on to find sexual excitement in the arms of a
gentleman of the road, so that each robbery had been
consummated by rolling in the ditch in her lover's arms,
or by going with him to some sleazy tavern, there to get
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a bed for an hour. Barbara was married to a good arid
wealthy man, but it had not been enough for her.
She died of a bullet. Fiona had already come closer than
she had intended to paralleling Barbara. She knew she had
been lucky and should now play safe. Will knew she came
from the Zoo and might yet decide to ransom her, or even
track her down and blackmail her. That would be very
bad news indeed.
He too used a false name but she had discovered his real
one. The police captain had told her. Henson Carne. So
why had he called himself Will Kid? Had he picked a
famous pirate at random or was there more to it? Had he,
like herself, picked a name for a purpose?
Any clue to the enigma of the man would please her,
and confer a certain power over him that she stood much
in need of if she was to have further dealings with him.
Fiona linked with her local library/ info bank to put up on
screen all they had on the notorious pirate.
She was astonished. The story she read was far more
complex than she had expected. Here was no savage and
greedy man leading a rollicking life dedicated to piracy,
plunder and rape. Instead she read of an energetic, able
and intelligent sea captain holding the commission of King
William III of England to hunt down pirates and appre-
hend them with his private man-of-war, the galley Adven-
ture.
Fiona even read a copy of the commission, giving its
exact wording and dated January 1695.
Moreover, since England was at war with France at the
tine, he was further commissioned to attack French mer-
chant shipping. This was known as a commission of
reprisals. His government authorised Kid to commit acts
against the French which were not piracy only because the
two countries were at war.
Kid set sail from Plymouth in the Adventure in May 1696.
His galley carried eighty men under his command and
thirty guns.
He sailed for New York and took on seventy-five more
crew. Then he sailed for Madagascar to find pirates.
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Captain William Kid was a hunter, not the hunted. He
was a policeman, not a pirate.
Fiona read on, perplexed.
Due to some dirty Caribbean politics at the time, those
who were nominally on the side of law and order warned
the pirates of Kid's coming. He therefore found no pirates
for over a year and had no prizes to share with his crew
and no funds to feed them and to maintain the boat. In
the end, facing mutiny, he turned pirate to save himself
and his boat.
In 1699 the King's pardon was offered to pirates who
gave themselves up. Kid, not knowing he was specifically
excluded, surrendered. He was anxious to return to a
decent way of life.
It did him no good. He was hanged in Execution Dock,
Wapping, London, in 1701.
It seemed an odd choice for Henson Carne to select Kid's
name. Kid had been an honourable man forced by circum-
stance and betrayal to turn predator. He had died for it.
Fiona thought about this a good deal. She reflected that
the captain of police had been both bitter and knowled-
geable about Will Kid. Had he once been a policeman?
Was he a lawman gone bad?
Fiona knew she was indulging in what probably was no
more than an elaborate flight of fancy, yet it teased at her
and made her long more than ever to meet Will again and
penetrate the mystery of the man.
Meanwhile there was Janine. The frisson of danger that
being down in the city gave her must one day be lost. She
could not go on forever risking everything for the dark
sensuous nights down in the mire and dirt of corruption.
She must resolve things with Rollo so that her need for
the city ceased to exist. She might not yet be prepared to
give up her pirate lover but she could see the day coming
when she must.
She went to Janine's room and had a long talk with the
girl. Then she went up into the' loft space above the
bedrooms, where there was no plastic bubble-roof but a
utility and storage area, and she made a hole in the floor
173

with a drill. She drilled it big enough so that by applying
her eye she had a good view of her bed below. She used
a plug of white malleable material, children's modelling
clay, to fill the gap. It would be easily removable.
Back in her bedroom she tidied up and inspected the
ceiling. The texured white plastering gave no hint of the
imperfection. Fiona smiled to herself. It was funny how
everything worked in your favour when what you were
doing was bad.
The master bedroom in their apartment had two bath-
rooms off it, one she used for herself, the other being for
Rollo. It was Rollo's habit to shower last thing at night
before he came to bed, and to shave. It was a courtesy to
Fiona that he shaved then, and a tribute to their rich
enjoyment of mouthwork on each other's bodies. He did
not use the more normal depilatory creams because Fiona
liked the faint tang of stubble, just enough to excite but
not enough to abrade. He had not changed his ways since
their sex life atrophied.
Fiona could predict from long experience his time in his
bathroom. Moreover, he usually left the door ajar. She
based her plan on this.
On the appointed night Janine came to the bedroom door
and peeped in. Fiona nodded and the girl came on in. Rollo
was in his bathroom drying himself after his shower and
Fiona was lying half in bed dressed in a sumptuous
negligee.
'Oh, Mrs Cambridge,' piped Janine. 'May I talk to you,
please?'
'Why, what is it, Janine? Come in, dear. You look upset.'
'I know I shouldn't intrude. Is Mr Cambridge here?'
'Don't worry about him. He's busy just now. What is it?
So far, so good. Janine came over to the bed.
'It's just that I'm so upset.' The girl's voice trembled and
she sounded close to tears. A good little actress, Fiona
noted.
'Don't cry, Janine. Is it boyfriend trouble?'
'I wish it was. I think I'm going mad.'
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'It can't be as bad as that.'
'It's ... it's . . . Can I tell you something really personal,
Mrs Cambridge? You won't laugh at me?' Janine's voice
wobbled artistically. 'You won't tell Mr Cambridge? I
couldn't bear for him to know. I'm so ashamed.'
This was the critical point. Either Rollo would resign
himself and stay in his bathroom till Janine was gone,
recognising that Fiona had to deal with 'servant problems,'
or he would emerge and make his getaway.
Fiona thought he would probably take the easier option
and stay where he was. Also, she thought he might be
piqued to hear what Janine had to say. She was sure he
was aware of Janine's heightened sexual tension. Rollo was
older than herself, in his late thirties, at an age when a
man might begin to doubt his sexual attractiveness and be
reassured by the attentions of a young girl. This was silly.
Up to a generous age, most men get sexier as they get
older. Rollo was a prime target for an adoring teenager.
'I wouldn't tell Rollo anything private about you that
you told me in confidence,' Fiona assured Janine. 'I take
it this is in confidence.'
'Oh yes,' said Janine fervently. 'I can tell you because
you are so kind to me. But I would be deeply humiliated
if a man knew this, especially Mr Cambridge.'
'What is it, Janine? Can it really be so bad?' Fiona's voice
was caressing, almost purring. Rollo was staying put. She
could be certain he was listening. Janine had purposely
pitched her voice well up so that he could not miss what
she was saying.
'You see/ faltered Janine. 'I've never had a boyfriend.'
'Never? How old are you?'
'Sixteen.'
'Of course. But you are young yet. Most girls start too
young.'
'I don't think I am normal.'
'That is a very common fear. I don't mean to patronise.
We are all insecure about ourselves underneath.'
'I mean, I want a boyfriend. I'd love a boyfriend, but...'
Her voice trailed away.
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'I don't see the problem. You are very attractive. You
must have enough money to go out on your evenings off.
Why don't you go on the hunt with a girlfriend? That's
what I did.'
'All my friends have been humping for ages. I'm
ashamed to admit I am a virgin.'
'You're a virgin, are you?' repeated Fiona, making sure
Rollo got the message.
'Yes.'
'It's something to be proud of, I suppose.' Fiona was
doubled over with mirth inside. She sounded so priggish,
so know-all.
'I'm not proud of it,' hissed Janine. 'I think there is some-
thing wrong with me. I mean, I get feelings, you know.'
'I know,' agreed Fiona kindly, stifling laughter.
'Really strong feelings. But when I see a boy, I mean a
boy of my own age, I go cold inside.'
'I admit the average sixteen or eighteen-year-old is not
the most poised sexual adventurer,' began Fiona. She
couldn't meet Janine's eyes. The girl was splendid.
'That's what I want,' cried Janine. 'A sexual adventurer.
Some mature man, preferably gorgeous, who will take me
and teach me the arts of love.'
'You've got good taste. I like to see ambition in a girl.'
'But how can I meet such a man?' wailed Janine. 'Even
if I did, he would despise me for being young and
inexperienced. Just the sort of man I want is the sort of
man who just wouldn't want me. A virgin's no fun for a
man, is she?' Janine cried this last passionately.
'Well,' said Fiona judicially. 'That isn't quite true. I think
it turns some men on. Older men, I mean, whose natural
partners are all very experienced women. A virgin is a bit
like a unicorn, rare and hard to believe in, but lovely if
you happen to fancy . . . No. That's a bad analogy. But
you see what I mean.'
'I can hardly go up to some lovely sexy mature man old
enough to be my father, and say, hey, I'm a virgin, does
that turn you on? Can I?'
'No,' said Fiona doubtfully.
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'You know lots of lovely men, older men I mean. I don't
suppose you could find out for me, could you?' asked
Janine wistfully.
'Act as procuress, you mean?'
'That sounds awful. I'm asking for help. You would be
doing me a kindness, not exploiting me.'
'I couldn't just turn you over to some elderly satyr. That
would be clean against my conscience,' said Fiona self-
righteously.
'No, but some man who was experienced and sexy and
attractive, perhaps if you gave him a hint you knew a
young girl who wanted such a man . . .'
'Janine, we all want such a man. You are describing the
ideal man.'
'I'm sorry,' said Janine humbly. 'You must think I am
disgusting.'
'Not at all. I'm glad you feel you can talk to me. But rest
assured, your feelings are absolutely normal. You don't
have anything to fear in that way.'
'I meant physically,' mumbled Janine.
'Pardon?'
'I mean, I don't think I am physically normal.'
'Physically?' cooed Fiona nice and clear. 'I'm sure you
are physically normal, Janine.'
'How can I find out? I mean, if I knew I was, I might be
more confident with men. But I can hardly check out
another woman. I feel too embarrassed to go to the doctor.
He would just think me mad. Perhaps I am,' she added
mournfully.
'Well,' said Fiona. 'I suppose I could check you. Or you
could check me, if you'd prefer. Would that make you feel
better?'
'Would you mind?' Janine was breathless with pleasure
and gratitude. 'It would make me feel so much better.'
'Lie on the bed, dear, and open your legs.'
'But Mrs Cambridge,' fluted Janine in her little-girl voice.
'Did you say I could check you out?'
'Indeed I did, dear.'
'You mean you'd really let me look at you? Intimately?'
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'In the interests of your happiness and wellbeing/ said
Fiona, being plucky and noble. 'I am not a shy woman.'
'I've often wondered what you are like,' said Janine. 'As
a mature woman, I mean.'
'Why don't you take a look?' Fiona let honey drip from
her tongue.
'Now?'
Fiona made great play with her negligee, sliding it silkily
up her body in a tantalising rustle. She opened her legs.
'Now, I'll just open my legs a little and you can see what
a perfectly normal woman is like. I've had enough men to
know, believe me, sweetie.'
They shuffled on the bed to give Rollo the full aural
arousal, and mindful that he might take a look, they
arranged themselves with Janine on her knees on the floor
with her back to the bathroom, whilst Fiona sprawled with
legs wide open on the bed, her knees bent over the end of
it and her feet on the floor.
'You are so beautiful and strange without hair,' said
Janine.
'Make sure you can see properly,' said Fiona outrageous-
ly. 'It isn't as if we will be doing this again.'
'Is this all right, Mrs Cambridge?'
'You can be firmer. You won't hurt me.'
'Oh,' gasped Janine. 'You are so beautiful and compli-
cated.'
'Separate the flesh a little. That's right.'
The shaft of light from the open bathroom door momen-
tarily widened. So Rollo wanted to see his wife with a girl
fingering her private parts, did he?
'You are all dark and luscious and musky,' said Janine
in a reverential voice.
'You say the nicest things. I don't know that a man has
been quite so lyrical about my pussy. They tend to want
to get down to the business or rather, up into it. You'll be
as attractive yourself, sweetie, I promise.'
'No, I'm pale and tight and dry. I know.'
'Let me look. I am sure you are talking rubbish.'
The bathroom door moved slightly again as Rollo with-
178

drew. Fiona sat up and the two women swapped places.
Fiona made sure Rollo knew just what was going on.
'There now, Janine. Just lie back and relax. Slip up your
nightshirt, that's right, up over your hips. Don't be shy,
now. That's a good girl. Now I can see everything.'
'I'm so embarrassed, Mrs Cambridge.'
'Nonsense. Try shutting your eyes very tightly and then
you won't feel as if this is real. Concentrate on what you
are feeling down below.'
'Yes, Mrs Cambridge.' Janine was deliciously docile.
'No looking now. I don't want you to get all self-con-
scious and tighten up on me.'
'I promise.'
'You have the most adorable little silky bush, dear, that
I am touching now. It has red highlights in it. Now I am
touching your thigh. No need to jump. You have lovely
thighs, young and rounded and firm. They are the most
delicate peach colour.' That ought to make the bastard
sweat, she thought with savage glee.
'Now open your legs a little more. A little more. There
now. The most beautiful little rosy pussy a girl could
desire. Or a man for that matter.'
'You are just saying that. You haven't touched me. You
haven't looked properly yet.'
'Honey, stay like this with your eyes shut and your legs
open wide. I'm going to fetch a little cool jelly before I
open you up. You will like the sensation. And it will help
prevent me from being too rough with a virgin rosebud.'
Fiona rose to her feet and went into Rollo's bathroom.
He mouthed a bewildered expletive at her and she put a
finger to her lips. She found the lubricant and crooked a
finger. Rollo laid his head close to hers.
'Come in the room,' Fee breathed. 'Get a close-up.'
He raised his eyebrows and she grinned wickedly and
caught him by the hand, dragging him with her back into
the bedroom.
'Keep your eyes firmly shut,' she cooed.
'I am,' said Janine. 'It makes this feel remote, not real.
It's like a strange dream.'
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'Wearing a mask or going somewhere in disguise does
that to you as well/ said Fiona. 'If you ever want to have
a really great time, no holds barred, just go to a costume
do or go with a mask on. That's when people really let
rip.'
'I'll remember.'
'Now I'll just dab a little of this jelly on you. It's made
as a sexual lubricant so don't fear it. It's very cool. Ready?
'Ready.'
Fiona's face was enigmatic, closed and feline. She turned
to Rollo who was gazing at Janine's open-legged posture
as she lay back on his bed. Her mound rose in sweet
arrogance under its fluffy silken thatch of red-gold curls.
Beneath it, between her thighs, peeped a pale gleam of
flesh. Fiona pushed Rollo on to his knees at the end of the
bed so that he was close to the tiny shuttered pussy.
She knelt beside him and touched his prick. It was hard.
'I'm just putting the jelly on/ she said. She motioned Rollo
who daubed a finger thickly from the tube and then laid
the finger with great gentleness on the trembling fissure
before him.
'Ah/ sighed Janine.
'A little more/ said Fiona.
Rollo fingered Janine, touching her rosebud.
'These are what we call the labia/ said Fiona. Rollo
delicately moved the petalled flesh. 'Is that nice, dear?'
'Yes. I mean, it's so strange. But I love it. It's wonderful.
Would a man like doing this to me?'
'Oh yes. Far better than I might.' Fee grinned at Rollo.
'Now for your clitoris, your tiny man-member, your
female penis.'
Rollo found and unsheathed the little cone of flesh. His
face was intent. He frotted it gently and it trembled under
his light touch.
'You flutter like a humming bird/ said Fiona. 'You are
obviously in full working order, very sensitive and respon-
sive. A man would like that very much, if he knew
anything at all about the arts of love and wasn't just a
greedy taker.'
180

'How can you tell the difference?' asked Janine dreamily.
Her legs were wide apart and Rollo continued to tease her
erect flesh and titillate her sexual parts. Fiona brought her
own hand between her husband's thighs and grasped his
swollen pole. She began to masturbate him expertly. He
felt very good in her hand, strong, elastic and vibrant with
lust.
'A little more jelly,' said Fiona. Rollo obliged, putting the
cool transparent stuff in the heated gash of the aroused
girl.
'The difference,' said Fiona, 'is in the method of attack.
When they take you, you know. If a man is grabby and
insensitive, don't go with him again. Go for a man who is
artistic with your sexual organs and who works at how
you feel. Usually the men who really love a woman's
fanny are the best. They like to linger, to touch and arouse
and look and feel at what you have between your legs. It
is a little shrine to sex down there. They need to worship
before they plunder.'
She could feel Rollo coming closer to climax. His shaft
was hot and full and hard. With her other hand she began
to stroke and fondle his balls.
'Now,' she said, finding it increasingly hard to concen-
trate, 'I will separate your lips and seek what is inside you.
You are a virgin, you say?'
'Yes, Mrs Cambridge. Isn't it a good thing Mr Cambridge
can't see us now? I don't know what he would think of
me.'
'I do. He would be envious, child. No man could resist
your sweetness. In go my fingers. I can feel your tightness.
You are deliriously small, which is a very sexy idea for a
man, honey. It means your pussy will grip his cock really
tightly and squeeze down on it.' Fiona squeezed Rollo's
prick and felt him start to shake. His fingers were obedient
to her words, within Janine, stroking and feeling inside
her channel where no cock had ever been.
'You have a little obstruction in your secret haven. When
this is broken by the first man who penetrates you, it will
hurt a little, darling, and you will bleed a little. Afterwards
181

you loosen up and you become naturally self-lubricating
so that the delicious slithery satiny texture I can feel right
now will be all you, and none of it from a tube. A man's
cock will slide right up into you, making you feel full and
powerful as you ride on his weapon and master it and give
it great joy as you take if for yourself.'
Rollo had hooded his eyes and his face was sly and
closed. He held Janine's pussy open with his two hands
and very delicately intruded a finger which he stirred
about.
'You are truly a virgin,' said Fiona. 'Tell me, dear, does
it hurt when I touch you inside or does it arouse sexual
feelings in you?'
Rollo was shaking, beads of sweat rolling down his
forehead. His prick was so hard Fiona thought it might
hurt him.
'This is absolutely gorgeous,' said Janine. 'If it was a man
between my legs right this minute, I'd beg him to enter
me.'
Rollo came, shooting onto the floor between Fiona's
skilful fingers, struggling to keep his spasmodic jerks from
alarming Janine.
'I'd adore to have a man come in me,' whispered Janine.
'You are absolutely normal, sweetie. I can assure you of
that. If Rollo was here he would say the same thing
himself. Your pussy is delectable. Almost I could eat it.
But we must stop now or he might come in.'
Rollo clambered stiffly to his feet and moved back into
his bathroom.
'Mr Cambridge is just my ideal sort of man,' said Janine.
'He is so attractive, so assured. I think he is beautiful, Mrs
Cambridge. It is an honour to work for you both. The only
trouble is, he makes other men look pretty second rate.'
'Rollo would be very flattered to hear you say such a
thing. It isn't every man of his age who has a young and
lovely virgin just aching to be deflowered by him.' Fiona
was taking no chances that Rollo wouldn't get the mess-
age.
Janine sat up. Rollo was nowhere to be seen.
182

'I can dream/ she said. 'Gosh, that was wonderful, Mrs
Cambridge. I really love being touched all round my
intimate places. It makes me feel terrific. If only it didn't
have to end.'
'Run along now and don't worry. A man will be lucky
who gets you, darling.'
'Thank you so much.' Janine bent and kissed Fiona on
the lips. Then she gave an exquisite little wriggle and
dropped her shirt back over her hips. With a sly wink she
left the room.
Fiona sat on the floor and waited. Slowly Rollo emerged
from the bathroom.
'Maybe we shouldn't have done that/ he said.
'She didn't know. She liked it. Anyway, she's crazy about
you.'
Rollo looked down at his limp prick. 'It was quite an
experience.'
'You have a fabulous cock. I love playing with it.'
'What was it like for you when she touched you, Fee?'
'You want the truth or bromide?'
'The truth.'
'I kind of liked it. All that trembling girlish naive bit. I
think she is a very hot little number, only she doesn't
realise it yet. And what was it like for you, up to your
knuckles in her little virgin puss?'
'Peculiar. She is quite unlike you.'
'How so?'
'With her it was strange. It was kinky. It certainly turned
me on. But you are a full-blooded woman, Fee. Janine was
a little shrimp patty. You are a lobster.'
'That's a compliment?'
'You are rich and dark and a feast in yourself. You are
like forbidden fruit, dangerous and enticing. Sex with you
always has the flavour of the illicit. You bloom, Fee, and
make me ache to bruise you. You invite a man to split you
open to extract your honey. There's not a dull safe bone
in your body. You enchant me. You own me.'
Fiona kissed the inside of Rollo's thigh where the friction
from his clothes rubbed the skin to silken smoothness.
183

'I want to bite on your muscle, sometimes, when it is fat
and full.' She rubbed the end of his prick with her nose.
It smelt sexy and was wet from his orgasm.
He put his hands into her black tumbled mass of silken
curls. His voice was muffled.
'I want to come in your hair,' he said. 'I want to be dirty.
I want to foul you. I want to spunk all over you.'
Fee took a handful of her own hair and put her face into
his groin. She took his balls into her mouth and held them
there. She wrapped her hair about his prick and began to
abrade him back into life. The rough friction wakened him
and he began to harden. He pushed her hand away and
took her hair himself and began to frig his own prick hard.
Fiona put her hands between his legs and gripped his
muscled buttocks, squeezing them and sinking her nails
into his flesh. She kept his balls in her mouth and sucked
gently at them.
He pumped hard and with a gasp he unloaded, foaming
into her black mane. He bent down and kissed her hard
on the lips. She sat up and raised her arms, drawing up
her breasts, feeling her hair. She rubbed it as if it was
shampoo and laughed. Rollo kissed her armpits, sucking
the tiny tousle of hair in each.
'I'll have to shower,' she said languorously.
'I'll wash you. And then I'll suck you to sleep.'
'Good,' she said, content.
184

Chapter Thirteen
A
fter this Fee was happy, too happy to risk everything
by returning to the city. Rollo was wakening up from
his long sexual slumber and the very thought of Janine gave
her a frisson of pleasure. Even work was satisfying. The
TransFlow shares were selling well. Water was an increas-
ingly valuable commodity in the overpopulated world.
She met IDiana at the pool where they swam together for
pleasure and for health. They went shopping together and
Fee bought Janine some exquisite underwear. It was the
least the girl deserved.
Diana invited Fiona and Rollo to a party she and Teddy
were attending. Those who lived in the Zoo threw occa-
sional parties, elaborate affairs but successful in giving
their community a sense of adhesion other than the one
supplied by great wealth.
Monroe and Diva Jackson were throwing this one and
they were too idle to make a formal list of guests. Instead
they invited those of their friends whom they met and
asked them to pass the word along. Monroe was into
antiques and the art world. It was to be a theme party,
that of the ancient Egyptians.
185

'Incest and Cleopatra's wigs/ explained Diana.
'Triremes and pyramids, more like/ said Fiona tartly. 'I
shall come as a warehouse.'
'A what?'
'A warehouse. Wasn't Egypt the granary of Rome?'
'Crazy woman. Honestly, do come if you can. I hardly
see you and even the virtuous have to relax sometimes.'
'I promise/ said Fee affectionately. 'But I can't promise
for Rollo. The international time zones give him screwy
working hours. I'll try and get him to come, though. He
lives, breathes and dreams TransHow. It'll do him good
to be away from it for a while.'
'We bought some shares, Fee.'
'I bought some myself/ said Fee sweetly. 'I believe in the
hard-wOrking son of a bitch. If anyone can make this crazy
enterprise work and show a profit, he can.'
'It's some relationship you two have.' Diana was laugh-
ing. 'Love-hate, yeah?'
Fiona became dreamy. 'Perhaps that's what I need from
a man/ she murmured. 'Both sides of the coin.'
'You could have made a great courtesan in another
age.'
'Part of me wants to be good. The trouble is, it is such a
small part.'
Back at home in the apartment Fiona gave Janine the lovely
underwear she had purchased.
Janine occupied a complete suite in the apartment. She
had a bedroom, a sitting room and her private bathroom.
Now Fiona gave that bedroom some thought.
It was a typical teenager's room. Over the bed was a
huge menacing poster of a naked-chested young man
wearing tight leather trousers with a suggestive bulge in
the crotch. Behind him in weird perspective was a Connet
car. Clearly he was meant to be a pirate.
Pop stars adorned other walls with surreal backgrounds
from video stills. Between and amongst this immature
elemental sexuality were the trinkets of girlhood, a teddy
bear, fluffy toys, pierrot puppets and the like. The mixture
186

of ignorant sex and sentimentality was overlaid with the
smell of a cheap sweet scent.
Fiona thought it horrible. Utterly feminine herself, she
had never felt the need for feminine props. She had
abandoned the toys of childhood long ago without regret,
unattracted by saccharine colours and nostalgia. She was
a man's woman, not a grown-up little girl yearning for
pink frills and pastel-shaded cuddly toys. She faced the
world as an equal, ready to give and to take, and she didn't
go in for fluttering eyelashes and weakness to arouse the
protective instinct in a man. She didn't want protecting
and she thought men had more interesting instincts to
arouse.
The thing was, would Rollo reject this ghastly room for
reasons of taste, seducing janine in his own bed, or would
he go for the room as an extension of Janine and the
perversion of her youthfulness and untouched sex? Rollo's
big experienced sophisticated cock did not belong in
Janine's sweet little pussy. Yet that was what he lusted for.
The room was an aspect of the girl. He wanted to be an
intruder. He was going to enjoy being out of place. He
wanted to violate.
Fiona went back up into the attic and drilled another
hole, this time over Janine's bed, plugging it invisibly as
before. Now she was really ready. She grinned. She was
being so damned naughty. She could hardly criticise Rollo
if he got naughty urges too. Weren't they two of a kind,
her and him, under the skin? She took her risks sexually,
he took them financially and they both orgasmed on
success.
Rollo was not free the night of the party so Fiona went
over to Teddy and Diana's without him. She liked Teddy,
an amiable gorilla of a man with a rumpled face, grizzled
hair and a permanently sloppy grin. He had the quality
of making all his clothes look slept in, though Fiona knew
it was appearance only and Diana fought a useless war
over smartening him up. He treated Fiona as a pal and
she liked it.
187

The two women had decided to wear identical costumes.
Both had hired Cleopatra wigs which hung heavily, being
much woven about with beads. Janine came over with
Fiona to make the women up in the Egyptian mode and
to help them with their clothes. These were naughty. This
was hardly surprising, the current fashion being for reveal-
ing rather than obscuring, and they had chosen to go as
serving maids to royalty, attendants of the queen who at
this stage in Egyptian history was always the Pharaoh's
sister.
Royal attendants wore, it seemed, long linen dresses that
were pleated and hung to floor-length. The dresses came
up under the bust, thrusting the breasts up but leaving
them bare. Nipples were as much in fashion back then as
now. Janine made up their faces from pictures copying
tomb frescoes and then, as a finishing touch, both women
put on a tiny square-cut goatee beard.
'Now wait a minute,' said Teddy. 'I am all for historical
accuracy when it comes to bared bosoms but beards! No
way. I don't believe women wore them.'
'They certainly did,' said Diana, who claimed to have
done the homework on this one. Teddy was a statistician
and could be forgiven his ignorance. 'Don't you think they
are cute?'
'I'd feel naked without mine,' said Fiona and giggled.
They set off for the party.
There were plenty of people Fee knew and could enjoy
talking to. There were some new people it might be
interesting to meet. There was good food and dancing and
plenty to drink. Monroe showed her round his private
gallery where he stored his treasures between buying and
selling and made a pass at her. Fiona evaded his elderly
fumbling and tried not to yawn.
She mixed. She chatted. She circulated and was polite
and well behaved. She refused two offers of finding a more
private room, one offer to leave the party and go to
someone's apartment and resisted one drunken grope on
the stairs.
She became more and more bored. She missed Rollo and
188

envied him, shut in his work station making his computer
draw stylised representations of the water route the pipes
would be taking, breaking the project into manageable
lumps for tender.
She was bored. Her wig was heavy and hot. The music
was anodyne and dull, with none of the sexual power of
the gut-rock she had heard in the city. The people were
pleasant and shallow and she was bored.
She heard the latest gossip and scandal. Some of it she
could see for herself. Diva always liked to shock. Fiona
could hardly blame her for that but there was a touch of
malice in Diva. Fee wondered if her husband's insatiable
collecting of beautiful objets d'art had soured their relation-
ship at some long ago time. Diva was like a jewelled turtle,
a beautiful hard carapace on a withered and wrinkled skin.
Monroe probably spent a great deal more time stroking
ancient and valuable artefacts than he spent stroking his
wife.
Now Diva scandalised the party by bringing her tame
young man, obviously her lover, a sultry beast of perhaps
eighteen years to her sixty, all brawn and swollen muscle.
He wore tight shiny shorts and showed the cleft in his
bottom and the size and shape of his genitals in stark relief.
He wore nothing else except for some aromatic oil that
made him glisten, and a chain.
His wrist was manacled and a chain of gold led from the
manacle to Diva. Thus she led him about and he had to
follow. Fee did not quite see the Egyptian theme but Diva
was quick to explain.
'He's my slave boy, dear Fee. Isn't he gorgeous?'
Fee looked at the boy. He smouldered back at her.
'Divine,' she said. 'Tell me, did he come with the chain
on?'
'Sweetie, I let go this end and he'll be away, rutting with
every woman in the place. What balls/Fee. I can't describe.
They steam. Really steam. This man is an engine.'
'Steam huh?' said Fiona. She kept her face straight.
'I'll tell you a secret,' said Diva. Dutifully Fiona leant
closer. 'He likes doing it with boys, too.'
189

Diva hissed this last morsel from between magenta tips.
No ghost make-up tonight.
'Does he do it with Monroe?' asked Fiona in velvet tones.
'I said boys/ snapped her hostess. 'I watch, you know.
I just love to see their dinky things in each other. Aren't I
awful?' She gave an arch snigger.
'Dinky things and steaming balls.' Fiona looked at the
youth who was fully occupied in being magnificently
sullen about a yard away from them. 'Honey, you are so
experienced.'
'My slave has a big thing.' Diva was snapping again.
Fiona grinned at the boy. He thrust his pelvis forward and
flexed, under the straining material, his muscle. Fiona
gurgled with laughter and fled.
After a while she sought out Diana and Teddy who had
long since abandoned socialising and were dancing
together, gazing moonstruck into each other's eyes.
Fee tapped a shoulder lightly.
'I'm on my way/ she said.
'Oh honey. Do you want us to come?'
'You stay. I'll go topsides, I think. I feel like being under
the stars.'
'Good party?' asked Diana.
'Sure. The best. Steer clear of Diva and the slave, though.'
Diana giggled. 'Isn't she awful? All that teenage moodi-
ness and not a brain cell in sight. She must have picked
him out of a brothel.'
They kissed goodnight and Fiona drifted away. There
was another piece of gossip that she had heard and she
wanted to mull it over.
Out of the apartment she avoided the moving walkways
and went up an escalator to the glass tunnels that wan-
dered over the Zoo, above the man-made jungle that
guaranteed their privacy and exclusiveness.
It was colder up here in the dark. The tunnels were not
artificially heated and had grilles at intervals in their sides
to allow the real weather to penetrate. Fiona strolled
slowly, gazing absentmindedly at the foliage below, car-
rying her wig and beard.
190

The pirates had hit the news. This was the latest that she
had heard. The police were making a determined effort to
clear up the pirate nest and stop their predation on the
rich. The number of successful hackings had risen lately
and someone particularly self-important had been taken
and ransomed. He was bitter about his thirty-six-hour
captivity and making waves about it.
The SkyPolice had made sorties to ground level and used
automatic weapons when they got there. It was rumoured
that recently the pirates had raped a woman, leaving her
sexually and physically crippled, unconscious in her car
for the SkyPolice to find. The woman was in a psychiatric
home unable to lead a normal life.
Fiona heard this media distortion of her own case with
anger. She had made clear to the captain of police that she
had urged the pirate on to assault her and that technically
it was doubtful if it was rape. The fact that the entire
incident was imaginary, the product of her fertile imagin-
ation and designed to help her insurance scam, added salt
to the wound. She had been responsible for the biggest
dent in the pirates' romantic image that they had received
in years. It was her little computer, no doubt, that had
increased their hacking success. Now they were attacked
in force and their bizarre equilibrium upset.
The temptation to confess and effect some sort of redress
was momentary. Her sense of fair play was not strong and
she had the predator's instinct to take advantage of
weakness. Yet she was ill at ease.
She could not return to the city, that was certain. Captain
Will, Chain and the rest of the gang knew the risks they ran
and would have to put up with the consequences of their
own actions. It was their lookout, she told herself firmly.
But it would be a hell of a waste to put a male beast like
Will behind bars, where he was useless.
Meanwhile, what would she do for fun, for danger? How
would she keep her life on the edge, where she liked it to
be? She had no idea.
Fee buried herself in work. She set up her marketing
191

company so that the infrastructure was there should she
ever want to activate it. She debugged the software she
had developed for TransFlow. She installed Jamie and
settled him in. He was working well, making independent
decisions already and looking confident.
Rollo worked and did nothing else. Fiona calculated that
in the previous six or seven months he had had precisely
two sexual sessions with her. One of those was triggered
by her indulging in criminal activity. The other was after
she had aroused him by making him touch their maid's
private parts.
The first giant diggers began to roll. Up and down the
country the pipeline that was to link the northern wetlands
with the drought-gripped south began to come into being.
Fiona watched herself on the Screen, at the opening
ceremony cutting the tape, and was bored.
In a fit of pique she decided to go to a brothel. Sex was
for sale, wasn't it? In traditional societies men had gone
to brothels for variety or perversion or simply for quantity,
but for a long time they had catered for both sexes and all
tastes. Fiona checked the market to find a classy one and
prepared to go.
She wanted discretion above all things but then she
reckoned so would most of the clientele. She would go
masked. Being masked removed inhibition for her and she
acknowledged wryly that she was not over-endowed with
inhibition anyway.
On the night she chose she had Janine scrape back her
hair hard from her face and pin it tight. A few curls were
freed off to cluster about the pins, but otherwise it was
severe. She dressed against the prevailing fashion for tight
trousers in long baggy ones, in black, which she wore with
a full white cavalier shirt borrowed from Rollo's wardrobe.
Overshirts were all the thing for men, but Fee tucked in
its looseness at her waist. It was deeply frilled at wrist and
throat, and she wore a small tight black jacket over. Only
her eyes gave colour to her austere appearance. In her
pocket was her mask.
192

She rode the moving walkways and then took a taxi to
the locality of the brothel. She was amused when she
arrived to find it was a traditional classical building with
a vast dour faqade, columned and porticoed in mimicry of
ancient Rome. It must be a hundred and fifty years old,
she thought, and for some reason this tickled her sense of
humour. Brothels were as old as culture itself, she sup-
posed, so it was right that they should be housed in historic
buildings.
She ran lightly up the steps and into the subdued interior,
more like an up-market nursing home than a palace of sin
and sex. There was hidden lighting and soft music. But
this respectable frontage concealed something entirely
different, if Fiona's researches were correct. She ap-
proached the desk.
'Can I help you?' The woman was mature and charming,
her clothes a symphony of controlled elegance and classic
good taste.
Fiona had her mask on now. 'I should like to use your
services,' she said.
'Have you a particular service in mind? I can give you
a fully illustrated catalogue if you like. The catalogue is
returnable.'
'Nothing fancy. One man and myself. Aged between
twenty-five and forty-five. A private room. I do not wish
to be observed.'
'Would you like to walk through our public rooms and
perhaps have a drink and relax a little? You will find many
of our people there and perhaps you might make a
selection.'
'That sounds fine.'
Fiona walked through the body-scanner in the compul-
sory health check and then authorised the deduction from
her account using the DNA recorder. Then she took breath
and prepared to indulge herself in the amenities of the
house.
She moved from the vestibule as directed, her high heels
sinking into the luxurious depth of the floor covering. She
passed through great gilt doors and found herself in a long
193

room, massive in proportion but graceful. The atmosphere
was warm and slightly scented and there was the hum of
male and female chatter. It was a civilised soothing scene
and Fiona's spirits began to rise. Far from being overtly
raunchy like Diva's party, this could almost be a social
gathering for diplomats.
Except that many there were almost naked.
There were other clients like herself, and like herself
some of these were masked. The girls wore diaphanous
robes made of a material that became transparent as they
moved. At one moment you could see the girls' entire
charms laid bare, long lovely legs, beige bodies or beau-
tiful black limbs and all the smoky shades between. But
in repose, the material became opaque and was a discreet
wisp that suggested but did not reveal.
For the men it was something different.
They wore nothing except chastity belts. Fiona had heard
of these but never seen them. The belt took the form of a
hollow cone of thick clear plastic, padded and softened on
the inside. The man's penis was inserted into the cone, still
on clear view, and its very end projected slightly from a
hole in the apex of the cone. Fiona thought it was dazzling.
The cone enclosed the penis so that it was far too wide to
insert into an orifice. The balls hung freely at the back of
the cone. The cone was kept in place by a tight-fitting belt
what went around the hips and was locked at the back
with a digital lock.
Although their genitalia were on full show, and their
bodies were magnificently naked front and back, the men
could do nothing until they were released from the locked
device. The whole concept pleased Fiona enormously. She
looked pleasurably around her, drinking in the details
avidly, aroused by the sight of so much cock and titillated
by its imprisonment.
She began to walk the length of the room. She took her
time, unashamedly enjoying the goods on offer. As she
passed, the men brazenly flaunted their naked privates,
tempting her to unlock them and sample their prowess in
the ancient art of fornication. Her severe clothes awakened
194

the interest of the girls also and they swished their clothes
suggestively as she went by in case her taste should be for
them.
Fiona accepted a glass of champagne from a passing
waiter. She sipped it, sauntering through the groups of
people, and was approached by a man in evening dress.
'Does madame require any assistance?' he enquired
suavely.
'I like them male and big.'
'Big in every sense or big in the particular?'
'Every sense.'
'Charles and Jonathan over there do a little body-building
in their spare time,' the man murmured, 'and Chevro on
the Louis Quinze sofa doesn't need to, since he is so large
already. Clive, that's the man leaning against the fireplace,
is under six foot but, my goodness, he is well endowed.
Phenomenal. And he knows what to do with it.'
'I'll take a look at Clive.' Fiona moved over to the man
who stood with an elbow on the mantelpiece apparently
inspecting the Rembrandt over it. Fiona wondered
whether Monroe sold antiques to these people. She had
the feeling that the Rembrandt was the original.
As she reached him, Clive turned and noticed her. She
saw he had the true sensual curve to his lip, the genuine
mark of the sexually indulgent. She met his eyes calmly.
He raised his brows and smiled enquiringly. Fiona's eyes
dropped to his cone.
The enclosed quiescent prick reminded her of a fly in
amber. Its stillness was surreal. Almost one expected it to
move and have life as though it was on film rather than
trapped three-dimensionally within the plastic medium. It
was perfect. Perfectly visible and perfectly detailed. Fiona
stared at the penis attached to the living man with the
visual greed of the voyeur.
She knew from experience that different pricks had
different rates of expansion and the limp version was not
necessarily the best guide to what the fully erect member
might offer in the way of size and thickness. But sometimes
a big limp prick meant a huge erect missile able to plunge
195

explosively into the woman's hot and needy place, and if
this was true of Clive, he was the best-endowed man she
had ever seen.
Rollo was comfortably large with a good expansion. He
had thickness and length and a particularly lovely knob,
really flavoursome and shapely.
Will Kid was all rigid muscle and tensile strength. This
was no contradiction. He was big and thick and hard, very
veiny and textured, but elastic too.
Clive was simply satiny hugeness, a beautiful great
smooth thing that made you itch to stroke it.
'I'd love to stroke your dick,' said Fiona bluntly. She was
paying and she wanted to test the goods.
'My pleasure,' murmured Clive. His voice was low-
pitched and throaty. 'Just a stroke or more than that?'
'Can I see it erect before I commit myself?' Fiona felt
arrogant and a touch cruel. This was the one situation
where she did not have to consider her lover's ego. A male
whore was simple self-indulgence, almost masturbation at
third hand. You paid for it, and an expert put it there.
'It has to come out of the cone,' said Clive. He lifted one
leg and rested his bare foot on the fender. Fiona saw the
muscle ripple inside his thigh. His feet were beautiful,
broad with a high arch and delicate bones to the ankle.
She touched the tendon within the skin where it ran into
the groin. 'You are nicely built,' she said. 'Can you move
to match it?'
'Feel my balls,' said Clive. 'If you want to give me pain,
that is.'
'Pain?'
'When a woman of your class and beauty and elegance
feels me up and caresses my balls, my prick grows. It is
in close confinement as you can see. The result is pain. Of
course, that might turn you on. There is no commitment
if you have me unlocked for a closer look. The manage-
ment wants you pleased, not bullied.'
'Unlock, then,' said Fiona.
'Tell the management. I cannot be free unless you request
it. I am helpless,' said Clive. He smiled.
196

Fiona found the man who had recommended Clive and
said that she would like him unlocked. He gave her the
code number and said that if she was not satisfied, to keep
looking. The house was dedicated to pleasure. Upon her
return, Clive turned round and Fiona eyed his tight
muscled rump. Her hand just above his cleft, Fiona entered
the code number and the lock opened. The strap came
apart but the cone did not fall off. He turned and she saw
the sheer size of the man kept it in place despite the
hanging straps.
'You want to take it off? he invited. She reached down
and eased the thing away from his groin, releasing the
clinging flesh. He tossed the belt to one side.
'Now I can breathe,' he said.
She saw the silken column hang against his balls. She
reached down and again ran a hand up his thigh. She let
the back of her hand brush his scrotum and then she turned
it and briefly caressed the warm soft hairy skin.
His shaft started to fill.
She watched, fascinated. His member firmed and grew
visibly in length. Then it hung, half erect, half projecting
forward.
She laid her hand curiously upon it, its warmth and
texture demanding the fuller caress. Slowly she closed her
hand about it and lightly stroked up, drawing back the
foreskin a little. It firmed and she realised that inadver-
tently she was holding him too tightly. She relaxed her
hold. The shaft continued to swell. She relaxed her hold
some more and found she could barely make her fingertips
meet around it.
She let go and looked at the maris equipment.
'I guess you know how to use that thing,' she said. 'It's
not just a pretty cock.'
There's only one way to find out,' he responded politely.
'I would warn you, though, I am not for the faint-hearted.
I know now you can handle me. But can you take me
inside you?'
'There's only one way to find out,' said Fiona. 'Let's go.'
She linked arms and he smiled down at her. As they
197

walked away a waiter collected the discarded cone. After
sanitation another male whore would wear it until he took
some client's fancy.
They walked the length of the room together, an experi-
ence in itself because, although Fiona herself was fully clad,
Clive was rampantly naked and his erect cock cleared the
way. Even in those decadent surroundings they managed
to create a mild sensation as they passed. They went up
wide curving stairs to the upper rooms. Clive led her
through a thick panelled door into a room with an antique
decor, a high-ceiling apartment with a bathroom en suite.
The bed was designed as an ancient four-poster which
Fiona found a nice conceit. It dominated the room.
'Before we settle,' said Clive in a meaningful way, 'I
should tell you that we have a variety of specialities on
offer. Some of them require certain apparatus and we
would be better to move elsewhere.'
'Such as?'
'Would you enjoy being mastered and humiliated by me?
The fact that you were paying for it would only heighten
my enjoyment of pissing on you and rubbing you with
excrement.'
'No,' said Fiona.
'Then again, it might please you to revenge yourself
upon a man using me as proxy. I have a low threshold for
pain and could be cowed by a strong dominant woman
such as yourself, forced to submit to whatever degrada-
tions you wished to impose on me whilst I beg for mercy,
a snivelling heap . . .'
'No,' said Fiona.
'Whips?'
'No.'
'Torture? The rack. The wheel. Manacles. You liked my
prick imprisoned, I could tell. And for a truly fabulous fee
I would permit you to pierce my foreskin and place
jewelled studs about my cock. It is expensive since it
renders me hors de combat for a while.'
'I don't want you hors de combat. I want action.'
'Company? Male or female. Both. Watching or participat-
198

ing. We have some very elaborate scenarios in which you
are free to enact any role that takes your fancy. If I might
prompt your imagination and indicate at the same time that
there are no limits here, you could have your hands embed-
ded in two lovely juicy women whilst a great ebony cock
was stuffed in your mouth, and two more cocks took you
simultaneously. It's quite an experience,' added Clive mildly.
Fiona laughed. 'I'll bet it is. But I'm not sufficiently jaded
yet.'
'Then I might offer you a long lingering session between
two adult people with an immense amount of talent
between them, a couple who are not only very able, but
very resilient. There is much that expertise and experience
can achieve.'
'That's what I want,' said Fiona.
'May I order refreshments for you? It would be as well
if we kept our strength up.'
'Oysters and champagne for me and whatever you wish
for yourself.'
He ordered the food through the house-com system.
Fiona watched the muscles in his buttocks move as he
walked and began to feel excited.
'Whilst we eat,' he said, after putting down the com unit,
'would you like to watch some entertainment?'
'On the Screen?'
'In the flesh.'
'Others copulating?7
'No, though we can provide that if you wish. I mean
sophisticated, talented and original entertainment.'
'Yes,' said Fiona.
'Might I suggest that we have our food in a private lodge
whilst we watch? We will see no others in the audience
and no others will see us. I would like you to eat naked,
you see, I long to expose your body.'
'That sounds good.'
He leant towards her, his brown eyes shining. 'You are
plainly a woman of surpassing beauty,' he said. 'You can't
think how privileged I feel to be able to reveal your hidden
curves and secret places.'
199

Something caught in Fiona's throat. She knew he was
acting as he had acted when tempting her to sado-masoch-
istic games, but he was so damned good at it.
'I will just arrange for our supper in the theatre,' he said.
When he had done this he came back to Fiona and touched
her shoulders, standing at her back. She shivered slightly.
She was longing to touch him. He eased her jacket from
her shoulders and took it off her. Then he loosened her
shirt at her waistband. She felt his lips at her neck and laid
her head back, offering him her white throat. Her shirt
came free and his warm hands roved inside and clasped
her body. His tongue flickered and touched her throat.
'There is no hurry,' he said. 'The night has a thousand
hours for lovers and I will make every minute of every
hour memorable for you.'
He unbuttoned the deep old-fashioned cuffs of her shirt
and eased her arms out and took the shirt off her. He
turned her round and looked at her.
'Your breasts are twin pleasure domes from Xanadu
itself,' he said. 'But the scar on your cheek is fornication
incarnate. Will you take off your mask?'
'No.'
'Your eyes. Green fire. I've never seen a woman like you.'
Now he knelt and undid the fastening of her black velvet
breeks. Loosened, they hung open. Her utter nakedness
and hairlessness within were revealed.
He caught his breath. He reached behind her and undid
the fastenings of her boots. He slid one long boot off and
then the other. Now he was free to draw down her
trousers. As he did so, he put his tongue into her navel.
Her stomach fluttered.
He removed her trousers and she was left standing there,
as naked as he was. He walked round her as she stood,
viewing the long pale planes of her body, the full deep bust
with its porcelain texture and between her hips the smooth
rounded belly that flattened when she lifted her arms.
He ran a finger up the curve of her back and clasped her
neck with his hand. He kissed her shoulder blades and
behind her ears.
200

'Do you ever wear diamonds?' he asked.
'I don't like them.'
'On some women they are superb. They would be wrong
for you. What jewellery do you like?'
'Gold. Pearl. Opal. Tiger's eye. Nothing fancy.'
'You have good taste. Brave, beautiful and, let me see.
Do you like danger? I think you do.'
Fiona faced him. 'Don't get too clever,' she advised.
He acknowledged the rebuke. 'I will provide a robe,' he
said. 'Let us go to the theatre.'
Their darkened balcony, its intimacy beguiling, over-
looked the stage. The food was laid out on old lace in
keeping with the antique fashion of the house. There was
oysters, champagne, old brandy, as well as skewers of
grilled meat, dripping in some heavy sauce.
They sat down. Fiona was astonished at her hunger. All
her appetites craved satisfaction, it seemed.
Clive opened an oyster and ground a little fresh black
pepper on to the muscle. He squeezed lemon and handed
it over. Fiona threw back her head and tilted the shell.
The animal slid into her open mouth and she swallowed
its salty strength. She licked her lips with her pointed
tongue.
Clive took one for himself and she saw his throat work.
She ate two or three more and he did the same, laughing
and wiping the juice that spilled from the side of his mouth.
He poured her champagne but declined its bubbling
coldness for himself.
'I do not have a good head for alcohol,' he said and Fiona
warmed to this bizarre admission of vulnerability. 'And I
would not detract from our coming enjoyment. But I do
take brandy, though very little. For me it is bottled
sensuality, fermented and distilled liquid sex. I can taste
the sun in it and it warms my blood.'
They finished the oysters.
'I ordered these,' said Clive, picking up a skewer and
rolling it in the thick rust-red sauce. 'They are a speciality
of the house. The sauce is very piquant and appeals to
strong tastes. I think you might like them.'
201

Fiona lifted a skewer herself from its bed of peeled
grapes.
'Allow me/ said Clive. He held up his skewer and bit a
piece of the meat off. She saw the flash of white teeth. He
offered his mouth to her.
She took the meat mouth to mouth, throwing back her
head to get the morsel right in. The heavily spiced meat
was delicious. He fed her again and she fed him, sauce
spilling down their chins. A drop fell, fox-red, on her white
breast. His tongue licked the sauce from her throat and
breast and she murmured with pleasure.
He kissed each vertebra of her spine. 'It is going to be a
privilege making love to you/ he said huskily.
'You have not entered me yet/ said Fiona.
'You will know it when I do.'
His greasy hands circled her breasts and massaged their
fullness. 'It is time to watch the show/ he said.
A woman came on stage. She was very slender, very
slight. She danced an ancient Balinese dance of extraordi-
nary beauty and grace, plainly a celebration and potent
with meaning.
Then a troupe of men came on stage and danced a
Japanese dance of violence and death. It was magnificent
but it was the magnificence of killing and Fiona did not
like it.
Now another woman came on. She wore little save for
an elaborate headdress and she crouched before a wicker
basket and played a pipe.
The music reached into Fiona's blood so that she
shivered. It was insistent, a mesmeric drone, monotonous.
A head appeared from the basket. The woman was a
snake charmer but it was no cobra she wooed. The head
was a flattened arrowhead, marked in bands of brilliant
colour. Fiona knew that colour in reptiles and insects
usually meant danger.
She saw the forked tongue flicker. She was fascinated
and repelled.
The woman fluted at the snake and drew it away from
its basket. It followed her, a sinuous curve of elegant death.
202

Now the woman lay back on the stage like a limbo
dancer, bending her upper torso right back until her
shoulders rested on the stage, still playing all the while.
The snake writhed between her open legs. Fiona stiffened.
The head was lifted in the air and it was tuned from side
to side, almost blindly, as if it was questing.
Something about the monotonous playing tugged at
Fiona's memory. She felt she recognised the dirge and yet
she knew that to be impossible. It teased her awareness.
Now the snake was right between its mistress's legs and
its tongue flickered against her vulnerable flesh, the flesh
at the apex of her open legs. Fiona saw that not only was
she shaven about her sex, but her labia was pierced and
she wore gold rings at the entrance to her sexual opening.
She felt Clive's hands down about her own sex, question-
ing like the snake. She shivered and let her legs fall apart.
On stage the snake moved its head up close to the proffered
vagina. Then, to an audible gasp from the unseen audience,
it tongued the woman's sex and penetrated its head.
She played on and Fiona was visited by a revelation. She
watched with a certain grim amusement as the snake's
muscles quivered, penetrating deeper into the woman's
body. She stopped playing and carefully rose to her feet.
Obscenely the snake hung between her legs, its body
writhing slightly, its head invisible deep within her. She
displayed herself to a flutter of applause and then sud-
denly she grasped the tail and pulled the snake from her.
She dropped it to the floor and began playing again. The
snake returned to its basket as the woman straddled her
legs and played on. Moisture dripped from her in clear
droplets.
Fiona was supreme with computers. She could hear the
digital patterns in the playing of the pipe. The damned
disgusting exhibition was no more than some very fancy
work with a programmed robot. She laughed aloud. It was
very clever. Her own sex itched in shock at the perfor-
mance.
Clive poured champagne on his hands and massaged
Fiona's breasts with the fizzing liquid.
203

'You liked the snake/ he said.
'I'm into computers myself/ she answered slyly.
He hesitated, dumbfounded at her perception. 'Beautiful
and highly intelligent with it/ he said. Fiona grinned
mockingly. 'Jesus, I'm hot for you/ he said. 'Let's go to
our room.'
They returned to their room and Clive ran a bath for
Fiona and washed her and himself. She had been right. It
was nice to have a man perform this intimate office whilst
she lay in idleness feeling his hands on her body. Definite-
ly, when Janine left, she would investigate the possibility
of having a male maid.
After she was out of the bath and dried, Clive knelt and
inserted a finger within her moist cavity and touched the
velvet within.
'I'm going to make love to your breasts first of all/ he
said. 'But I will come back to this place and make you
scream with pleasure.'
Fiona was all compliance. She allowed herself to be laid
on the bed and Clive massaged her breasts with aromatic
oil. When they were flushed and aroused he took his own
hanging prick and laid it within her hands.
Fee helped herself to a little oil and looked with interest
at what she had been given. She began to work him gently,
allowing him to rise within her hands slowly until his shaft
was huge in her grasp. It only made her feel greedier,
knowing it was hers to command. His skin was particu-
larly soft and slidy, the foreskin retracting easily over the
swollen end. The gland engorged and darkened as she
handled him and she saw the eye gleam.
His balls were big and firm in their bag of skin. She
cradled them and felt their oval shape and strength.
Clive began to kiss her skin. He sucked her and gently
bit the sucked flesh. He went all over her like this till
her whole body tingled in arousal though he had not
yet touched her pussy or its sensitive surroundings.
He stroked her breasts with his great cock, beating
them slightly and rolling them with it. He held his gland
and opened its eye and brushed her nipples with the
204

slightly oozing tiny orifice. It made Fiona's nipples
tremble.
Now his mouth was at her breasts. He rolled and sucked
with brutal strength and when both were dark and swollen
into prominence, he nibbled them delicately so that she
almost came at the pleasure of it. He flagellated her nipples
with his great muscle.
'I want you to do something for me,' he whispered.
Fiona had trouble understanding his words. She was in
a sexual daze, her whole body quivering with the need to
be penetrated. 'Yes?' she said blindly.
'This little bladder. Will you insert it for me and then
pump it up with this little pump till I tell you to stop?'
She took the rubbery thing with a certain disgust. It was
pink and had a nipple on one end where the pump could
attach.
'Insert it where?'
'Here.' He half turned and touched his anus. His eyes
were gleaming with the depravity of the satyr.
'You want it in and pumped up?'
'Pumped tight. To hold me open as I attend to you.'
'OK.' Fiona felt quite interested in the procedure. He
crouched with his backside in the air, his two hands
hauling his buttocks apart. Fiona felt her fanny convulse
as she looked at his neat crimped rear. There was a wisp
of sweat-soaked hair in his crevice. On an impulse she
leant forward and licked it.
'That's good,' he whispered.
Using her index finger she began to poke the rubbery
thing within him. She rather enjoyed it. He stiffened and
sighed as she went into him. He would be bisexual, of
course. Evidently he liked this aperture to be invaded. With
the bladder mostly in, she attached the pump and began
to work it. As she pumped, air filled the little bladder. The
whole thing began to expand in a figure-of-eight shape,
fat within him and fat without but nipped at its waist by
his anal muscle. Slowly it forced his rear open.
He was silent, welcoming the intrusion.
'Enough?' asked Fiona.
205

'More.' His voice was husky with strain as he adjusted.
Fiona pumped. Obscenely the bladder protruded from
between his cheeks, holding them apart with its bulbous
width.
'Enough,' he croaked.
Fiona stopped and carefully detached the pump. Then a
cruel grin curved her lips. 'Just a moment,' she said with
false sweetness. 'Don't move. I want to keep looking.'
She re-attached the pump and recommenced the action.
'What are you doing?' he gasped.
'Raping your arse, lover.'
'Stop,' he pleaded.
Fiona laughed and stopped. He eased himself up and sat
back on his heels. Sweat filmed his brow. 'You wicked
bitch,' he said.
Now that she could see him from the front again, Fiona
saw that his weapon was a mighty thing indeed. Bloated
with desire, it projected at a hard angle. When she touched
its massy proportions, it leapt and quivered under her
hand.
'Turn round,' she ordered.
He obeyed and she gasped with cruel pleasure at the
pink bladder squeezing his cheeks asunder and holding
his rear passage open to the point of pain.
'Walk about,' she said. She was very excited and brea-
thing hard, her breasts rising and falling quickly.
He walked up and down the room, stiff-legged because
of his split arse. His cock shook before him like a mighty
club, swollen at its head.
He stopped and faced her. 'Lie back,' he ordered hoar-
sely.
She smiled her catlike smile and lay back at her ease on
the silken pile of pillows mounded at her back.
He came on the bed and opened her legs. He looked at
her for a moment. Then he turned himself round and
opening her legs wide he put his mouth to her vulva.
In front of her the bladder wobbled and danced. She saw
his scrotal sac full of juice, his balls distended. They joggled
before her. She reached out a lazy hand and fondled their
206

fullness. Then, with her eyes half closed, she gave herself
up to pleasure.
He bit her folded flesh, licked it apart and sucked it and
flapped at her with his tongue so that she grew dark and
rich. He worked each tiny part of her sexual flesh so that
every nerve was set alight with lust. He worked from the
very end of her slit to its apex. Then he went back to her
rear. He had the sophisticated ability to suck her open and
then blow into her as she shut. His tongue was very strong
and he could penetrate her easily.
He thumbed her orifice open and blew into her. Then he
ejected saliva into it and manipulated her so that the saliva
dribbled out.
The trickling liquid aroused her, warm and wet, still
more. She kept involuntarily gripping her muscles. Her
whole vulva seemed to ooze liquid lust. She seethed and
it seemed to her that she must almost be steaming, such
was the heat glowing up from every part of her wet places.
Yet only now did Clive move on to her clitoris. He
tongued it and nipped it and licked it and sucked it till
she was in an agony of desire. And then he moved within
her. He held her open and he blew. He closed his lips over
her and sucked so violently that her body jerked and she
almost came into his mouth. Yet he controlled her even in
this, puppetmaster of her lust. His tongue went in and
licked round her juicy walls. Her whole passageway
flowed thickly as she was stimulated to eruption.
All the time the pink bladder wobbled before her eyes.
He lifted his head. 'I am going to enter you now for the
first time,' he announced.
Fiona was beyond speech. Her body arched helplessly.
He turned round and drew his mighty shaft all down her
body, stroking her with it. The he began to butt at her
entrance.
He pushed at her. She knew she was slimy with sexual
heat but still he pushed, not sliding in.
'I'm going to hurt you now,' he said maliciously. By way
of response she strained harder to draw him into her. Her
muscles fluttered and shook. He pushed hard and his knob
207

went in through the narrow entrance. Her vagina gave
before the onslaught, welcoming him, drawing him on,
squeezing, straining, bulging, grasping him and then, as
he hesitated she dug her heels into the bed and reared up,
driving herself up on him. His cock slid deep into her and
she felt her eyes bulge.
Her back arched. Her blunt bald mound was up and
straining. The pressure within her grew and grew. One at
a time he lifted each of her legs from the bed and hooked
them over his shoulders.
Fiona closed her eyes and entered paradise.
He moved gently at first, letting her get used to him and
letting her own juices flow sufficiently to lubricate them
both. She kept herself rigid, struggling to contain and
retard her orgasm.
He began to work her. Each stroke was deep and
incredibly long. It got harder to hold the barrier.
He expanded as he came free of the constrictions of her
passage and then tightened deliciously as he went back in,
held by her firm vaginal embrace. His actions created a
ripple effect between the two of them as the pressure eased
and tightened alternately.
The great gland at the end of his member nuzzled blindly
within her as though it would possess her very womb in
the profundity of his invasion. Fiona rose to meet him,
thrusting at him greedily, her teeth bared into a snarl. Her
crotch changed as it began to climax. Little shudders shook
her, gaining in speed and intensity. Her sex vibrated, hotter
than ever about his cock, and fiery wet. Now pelvic spasms
shook them both and Clive roared into her like a train
thundering into a tunnel.
She felt his sexual blows dizzily and then the full force of
her orgasm took over conscious thought. He held her at
her peak and then released his own climax so that she knew
the joy of his thunderous finale as she arrived at her own.
He held himself in her whilst she shook with aftertremors,
enjoying the sensation of her powerful wetness about his
diminishing organ. At last he withdrew. He sat back and
looked at her long soaking body. It sparkled with sweat,
208

giving it a gauzy texture under the soft lighting by the bed.
Gently he held her knees open, gazing into her deep ruby
slit.
'I'll get the mirror,' he said. 'You should see this.'
He came back and held the glass so that she could see
clearly what was between her legs. Her flesh was still
pulpy and swollen, bruised crimson and purple. All over
it, between each fleshy petal and tumbling from the slit
itself, was a cascade of foam.
'Work your muscles,' he said. She did and ejected a
further stream of love juice.
'Isn't that beautiful?' he said. 'You are one spunky lady.'
He carried her into the bathroom and laid her on a frame
on the floor which he then raised by hydraulic action till
she floated clear of the ground in a comfortable harness-
like arrangement. Clive sprayed her with a shower head,
the jets of water making her body tingle with returning
life, and then he dried her with a hot air blower.
He bent over her suspended there and put his mouth
over her so that his upper teeth came down over her
mound of Venus and his lower teeth sank into the fruity
softness of her vulva. He closed his teeth slightly and shook
his head, worrying at her pudenda like a dog with a bone.
His tongue snaked out and before it was all washed away
he drank some of their juices from the cup of her sex.
He carried her back to the bed where she lay passively,
wondering what was coming next. He poured them each
a glass of fine old brandy and gave her hers. The smooth
liquid fire ignited a trail along her veins.
'Take out the bladder for me?' he asked.
She nodded a reluctant assent for she liked his straddle-
legged awkward walk and the obscene pout of the thing.
Now he reversed up to her and she released the valve in
the bladder and let the air whoosh out. The whole thing
now slid easily from his rear orifice. She took a little oil
and massaged the offended flesh. He groaned a little and
it slowly settled back into place. She slid a finger in to test
its elasticity after such a stretching and to compare it with
Rollo's arse, which she knew well.
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Clive was considerably looser than Rollo had ever been,
even in their most hectic days. She moved her finger
thoughtfully inside Clive and realised she was enjoying
being there very much. After a while she got Clive to roll
over so that she could still penetrate his rear but she could
also inspect his lovely cock. She handled it whilst she
poked his arse, and found it swelled in her grasp.
He stroked her breast. 'I have many more games we can
play,' he said invitingly. 'Is there something you fancy
yourself?'
'I'm going to get astride this baby,' said Fiona, waggling
his member. 'I'm going to sit on it and take the whole
damn thing right up me as far as it can go.'
He laughed. 'If you are going to ride me, I think you
should have some suitable accoutrements.'
'Such as?'
'A cowboy hat. A nice suede jacket with lots of fringing.
High-heeled boots with great rowely spurs. And a whip.
A cowgirl needs to keep her horse under control, don't
you think?'
'You have all this equipment here?'
'Certainly.'
Fiona enjoyed the dressing up. She slid the jacket on over
her bare body and found the fringes tickled and excited
her nipples where her breasts bulged free through the open
front. Her hips and pelvis remained nude, her mound
thrusting forward over her secret gash, and her buttocks
pouting back under the rear hem of the jacket. The leather
boots held her calves firmly and the high heels raised her
so that when they stood chest to chest, Clive's mighty cock
was on a level with her lower belly and she could nestle
it at the apex of her legs.
The spurs were ferociously sharp and she found his
nakedness vulnerable now she was partly dressed. She
flicked the whip a couple of times and caused it to crack.
Clive dropped on his hands and knees with his back to
her.
'Why don't you whip me round the room so I can show
you my paces?' he suggested. Fiona flicked the whip at
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him but he did not perform until it struck his skin and by
the time he had gone twice round the room, his arse was
blazing red. She beat him until he mounted the bed where
he rolled over. His shaft was rigid, a vertical pole, just
what she wanted. She delayed enough to wrap the thong
of the whip round his lovely great silken erection and pull
it tight. The flesh purpled and squeezed. She laughed and
released him and dropped the whip.
'Take this now,' he said, passing her a riding crop. 'If
you find me faint-hearted or not energetic enough when
you are riding me, you can ginger me up with this and
make me mend my ways. You have a right to expect a
thoroughbred performance.'
Taking him inside her was a joy. Fiona lowered herself
slowly till she was sitting fully astride him. She thought
that if she was not already loosened by their previous
union, she would not have been able to do this. She took
the springy leather crop and tapped him smartly on his
thighs, either side of which her rowels gleamed wickedly.
To her joy, he bounced violently and when he eased up
she hit him again, urging him on till he was throwing
himself up into her forcefully and frequently. He inserted
a finger between their flesh and found her crushed clitoris
which he teased as she went up and down like a piston.
He used all his professional skill to time his climax to hers
and when she felt the warm gush she had the added
pleasure, as he swivelled expertly inside her, of feeling the
lovely slithery liquid cascade about their joined sexual
organs.
Fiona could hardly keep awake on the journey home. She
stumbled through her own front door and found her way
to her bedroom. She giggled at her crooked walk. Her
thighs felt most peculiar.
Rollo lay asleep, a golden wasted king of a man.
She shed her clothes and fell on the bed. As she slid
almost instantly into the deep sleep of exhaustion she held
in her mind the clear mental image of the giant prick that
she had had in her that night, in her sex and in her mouth.
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Nor had Clive been content with that. He had knelt over
her and masturbated himself until he came all over her
breasts which he then massaged. Her skin still trembled
at the memory. Her hand had its memories too, the velvet
feel of the vibrant strength of him.
She fell asleep smiling.
212

Chapter Fourteen
T
he next day it said on the news that a notorious gang
of the self-styled pirates had been successfully attacked
and arrested. Two were dead, one policeman wounded
and the rest of the gang in custody having been formally
charged with highway piracy and kidnap.
Fiona heard the news with her vagina feeling twice its
usual size and her brain feeling about half. She found she
needed to know if Will Kid was in custody. She remem-
bered her fantasy that he was a renegade cop. If he was,
so much the worse for him. He would get even harsher
treatment.
Down in the city they would know. Will had been king
of his patch and if he was gone there would be a power
vacuum to fight over. There would not be one who was
not aware of it.
An idea began to form in Fiona's mind.
Then Rollo interrupted her plans. The directors of Trans-
How had decided to meet in the flesh. They had things to
say to each other that they had not the time to say at the
launch party. The trouble with on-screen conferences was
that there was no need for the subtleties of secretarial help.
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No one took notes. There was no minute of the meeting
to agree to afterwards. The meeting was completely and
entirely held on tape, copies of which were automatically
sent to each participant afterwards.
Thus a whole range of subtle politically-motivated beha-
viour was lost. There was no 'feeling of the meeting'. There
was only the bald record. The coldness and unarguability
of the record inevitably controlled tongues. People only
said what they did not mind being reminded of verbatim
at a later date.
Minute-taking had always been a skilled and specious
art and in the higher echelons of power this had meant
that minutes were more a creative record of the power
structure of a meeting than they were a plain recording of
what was agreed. Now, like fire-making, it was a lost art,
overtaken by the onward march of technology.
Each director brought with him something of an entour-
age and in the case of Fiona and Rollo, both being directors,
theirs was a shared one. They were not the only marital
couple on the board and there was an atmosphere of
holiday as well as work about them all. Fiona knew they
would be there at least a week and in other circumstances
she might have enjoyed it. Rollo was supreme at these
power games and she usually got a kick out of watching
him at it, but she admitted to herself that her involvement
with Will Kid was occupying the forefront of her mind
and it was making everything else seem dim and unim-
portant.
They flew to Rio, which was in permanent Carnival these
days. Fiona endured hours of carambas and maraccas and
Mexican hats and fancy costumes till she was sick of fiesta
by any name.
She spent a great deal of time talking computers and she
made crystal clear what was her personal baby and what
belonged to TransFlow. She had used personally generated
finance to set up her software company and it was now
independent of the giant consortium.
She had time to review her recent sexual career. She
examined the men she was now meeting in the light of
214

Will and Chain and Clive and even Jamie, and decided
that, regrettably, she had down-market taste in male flesh.
One of the directors made a sexual approach to her. It
was a woman and Fee pretended she was hetero. For the
moment Janine's maidenly charms were enough. She had
no desire to move further along the lesbian path yet.
Surprisingly, the gluttonous session with Clive's mighty
dong aroused in her the desire for Janine's cool, sweet,
fresh young body, so endearingly naive and endearingly
urgent.
Rollo ate with her, danced with her, slept with her and
talked with her. He did everything a woman in love wants
her husband to do except make love with her.
They flew home all pretty clear about what was going
on in each other's minds. Construction was underway now
and they faced the problem of controlling inevitably
escalating costs. These must not eat into profitability. It
was the biggest scheme that Rollo had ever got off the
ground, and he was determined that it should not fail for
lack of his personal dynamism.
The night came that Fiona could no longer resist the lure
of the city, and finding out what had happened to Will.
She dressed carefully. She must appear to be one of them.
She wore a strange rubber garment that looked like
skin-hugging trousers down the outside of her legs but
was scalloped down the inside and held in place by a series
of straps and buckles that revealed ovals of white flesh
from top to bottom. In fond memory of Clive, she wore
heeled ankle boots with spiky spurs.
On her top half she wore a tight bolero in the same black
rubbery stuff as her lower garment, attached by five
buckles and straps across her front. It made no concessions
to her generous curving chest, rather it trapped the
voluptuous flesh and held it tightly within its rubbery
grasp.
She wore a gigantic silver zip about her throat and her
hair was tightly bound with a hat pulled low over her face.
She went cat-footed across the wire over the Zoo till she
215

came to the wasteland between the edge of the jungle and
the city-sprawl below. She had the feeling this would be
her last visit.
She travelled quickly. It was different. The shadows were
gloomier, the voices in the dark harsher and more on edge.
There were no fires under the highway, though still the
twin headlights shafted the night as the turbomasters fired
by overhead.
The headlights were unnecessary. The computers used
infrared to steer the cars. Most Connet cars were never
driven manually and only human eyes needed visible light
to see by. The headlights were a concession to human
quirkiness.
Fiona cast about her to see where any action was. She
went on deeper into the city. She had checked out the
manholes down to the old sewers and with shocked eyes
she had seen the rubble-filled holes in the ground. They
had been blasted out of existence.
She came across a wide street full of shops and eating
houses. Music spilled from closed doors and dim light with
it, so that the wares on offer, poor enough stuff by any
standards, were rendered even less attractive by grubby
shadows round the sleazy heaps.
She went on. On one street corner was a fight. A small
crowd had gathered round it but Fiona crossed the street
and went on by.
She went deeper and deeper into shadowland, panic
growing slowly within her. This was madness. It was clear
the city was neurotic with fear after the police swoop.
She saw two girls and approached them. They stopped
and moved closer to one another, hostile to her. Their faces
were pale and they both had long, improbably red, hair.
'Where is everyone?' asked Fiona.
'At the games.'
'The games?'
'Yeah.'
Fee heard bewilderment creep into their voices. Of course
she must know where the games were, if she was of the
city. 'Will the pirates be there?' she asked. 'If any are left.'
216

One of the girls suddenly guffawed with ugly laughter.
'If there are any left/ she shrilled. 'Oh yeah, that's where
they'll be.'
Fiona went on. She cursed herself for not asking directly
about Will Kid.
She became aware that certain shadows moved with her,
intent about their own business. She felt one of a silent
hurrying crowd. She must be going the right way.
Everyone, it seemed, was going to the games.
The darkness ahead grew even more impenetrable. Fiona
had long lost sight of the highway and she missed it. It
was something familiar in this alien place.
She realised she was approaching a large circular build-
ing that reared up and blotted out the light before her.
Others went that way also. Near to the ground were dim
lights, oddly flickering. As Fiona came closer she saw they
were torches, naked flame, burning in the sullen air with
smoky defiance.
People were passing through a creaking turnstile. For
the first time Fiona wondered about money. She never
handled money. All her dealings were automated. She
came closer and watched. This was really funny, she
thought in a hollow way. She was the richest person there,
richer than all these people put together and multiplied
by ten. By ten times ten. More. But she had no cash and
could not pay.
She leant against the wall and watched with narrowed
eyes.
It was a moment before she realised she was being
spoken to.
'You alone, sister?' a voice asked close to her shoulder.
She controlled her nervous start. 'What if I am?'
'I'm alone/ said the voice.
He was tall. It was hard to make out his features in the
uncertain light but Fiona had the impression of a ferret, a
narrow evil face set on a long thin body.
'What's that to do with me?' she challenged. She tried
for the city-tone, a kind of aggressive boredom.
'You going in?'
217

'I don't have the fare, brother.'
'If I paid you in, maybe we could play some games
together, huh?'
'Maybe. Are you good?'
'Good enough. Let's go.'
Inside was bedlam, more than a thousand people milling
in hot dirty confusion as they climbed the stairways to
reach the tiered rows above an arena brilliantly lit with
floodlights and at the moment quite empty. The smell of
food caught in Fiona's nostrils and made her gag. Hot
greasy food crudely overspiced surrounded her. People
wolfed at packets held in their hands and then threw away
underfoot what they did not want. That and the sweet
sickly overlay of synthetic alcohol was a nauseous combi-
nation.
They moved into the crowd, the man keeping close to
her. Fiona could sense he was ready to grab her, to stake
his claim on her body and exact first payment from her
mouth for his generosity in bringing her in. She saw a
particularly thick knot of people and vanished the far side
of them, dropping swiftly through the rows and doubling
back the way they had come. She attached herself to a
group of three and walked close behind them, as if she
belonged, till she was sure she had unloaded her sucker.
Now she began to search in earnest.
She went systematically through the great crowd trying
to see if there was anyone she might recognise, either
directly or by their gear, as belonging to the pirates.
Time passed and some activity was getting underway in
the arena. The crowd was beginning to settle. Fiona knew
she would have to start asking people. She was getting
nowhere.
Two motorbikes roared into the arena, sand and gravel
spitting from their tyres, to a roar of approval from the
crowd. The riders gunned their bikes at ferocious speeds
in the confined space round and round until one turned
and went in the reverse direction. Now they passed each
other twice a circuit, coming closer and closer to a collision
whilst the crowd shrieked its delight.
218

Now they started weaving figures of eight. Each near-col-
lision drew renewed whoops from the bloodthirsty crowd.
Then the bikes almost did hit and one went over on its side,
slewing across the floor of the arena with its driver trapped
on it. The crowd yelled disapproval which intensified when
they discovered the fallen rider had hurt his leg and could
not remount. He could not walk. He was helped from the
ring to roars of anger, his bike was dragged away and the
other rider rode tamely off.
Fiona moved through the crowd. A man was standing
with his arm round a girl.
'Hey/ said Fiona softly.
'Shove it/ said the girl briefly.
'You know where I can find Will Kid? Captain Will Kid?
I heard he got unlucky but I didn't hear how much.'
The man shrugged. 'It ain't my business/ he said.
'Get lost/ snapped the girl.
Fiona moved on, resisting the urge to slap the girl. She
didn't need trouble on top of everything else tonight.
She approached another man and repeated her request.
'Who's asking?' he said.
'A friend.'
'A friend would know.'
'I've been busy. I lost touch.'
'Lose touch again, you hear me?'
She began to get angry. This time she approached two
women with their arms round each other. She repeated
her question.
'Poor Will/ said one softly.
Fiona felt a cold hand clutch round her heart. 'Why do
you say that?'
'Poor Will, poor Bill, poor us, poor fuss . . .' The girl's
voice trailed away and she giggled. Fiona looked more
closely and saw the mad eyes. She mumbled and moved
on.
She was sickened now. She wanted to get away and she
began to make her way to an exit. She was doing no good
here, not to herself nor to Will.
Down below her the second act was getting under way.
219

Flames shot upwards as lit rings of fire smoked into the
night. There was no roof to the amphitheatre.
She looked down. Someone dived through a ring of fire
and came out aflame. The figure stood there, arms out-
flung, cruciform and engulfed in fire.
This time Fiona was not impressed. She knew the body
could be coated in a synthetic resin and the flame would
not actually be touching the skin. The figure below would
be coated in silicone or something similar. But it looked
good and she doubted that many in the crowd had much
of a grasp of chemistry.
Under cover of the enthusiastic noise, she struggled to
find an exit. Then, to her horror, she was grabbed. The
man who had paid her entrance had miraculously found
her again and he was very angry.
Twisting her shoulder from under his mean tight grip,
Fiona ducked away from him, only the slipperiness of her
rubber clothes saving her. She ran through the crowd,
snaking into any gap she could find between the com-
pressed bodies. She was followed by a storm of vituper-
ation and abuse.
Then flame shot up before her and the crowd screamed
with one awful terror-struck voice. Something in the
ranked tiers had caught fire. An errant spark from the
show had found matter to burn in the crowd. There was
instant panic as people pulled back from the menace, and
like a great sluggish animal the whole mass of people
moved up, seeking to get out the way they had got in.
Individual screams drilled her nerves and spread panic
faster than flames.
She assessed the situation in a split second. She remem-
bered the stairs up from ground level leading to the
entrances at the tops of the tiers. The thought of those stairs
full of escaping people was more terrifying than the fire.
Against the grain of the crowd Fiona began to go down,
down to the sanded arena away from the exits.
The next half hour would be forever in her mind, the
stuff of nightmare. She had made the right decision, of
course, and as she worked lower she found others had
220

done the same thing. The performers had an exit down
here, far closer and safer than the ones up top, above
descending stairwells and narrow passages.
The air was bad, over-heated and depleted in oxygen.
The heat was intense, though Fiona's suit protected her. It
might be rubber, but all high-quality clothing had flame-
resistance built in. Her lungs were burning as she fought
her way with the crowd towards what they all took to be
freedom.
They passed through several big rooms and then flowed
in to a chemocrete corridor with offices off it. There was
a door at the end and as she was spewed out through it,
trying desperately to keep her balance, Fiona realised she
was outside.
She began to run. She heard sirens in the night and
became aware of firecopters whirring overhead. There was
a great deal of screaming coming from the amphitheatre.
She took to her heels and fled. She ran on and on, easing
her pace only so that she could maintain it, putting all the
distance she could between herself and the horror behind.
She ran through the city, through the wasteland and on
to safety. She knew as she ran that she was cured of ever
coming here again.
No one stopped her. No one interfered with her. She met
people running the other way, greedy to see the disaster
first-hand.
At the fence she rested, sobbing against its familiar wire.
Then she climbed up it, up and up till she was over the
jungle and heading for the Zoo. Now she was safe she
slowed up, used up and exhausted. She checked her wrist
compass and headed across the dark plain above the
canopy. An hour later she was on known territory,
occasionally seeing the warm gleam of light spilling up
through a bubble dome.
She found her ramp and ran home.
221

Chapter Fifteen
F
ee Cambridge knew her place now. It might be boring
at times but, if she was to survive, it would be within
the safe confines of the Zoo. She didn't have the stomach
for the city.
She had to incinerate all her clothes which stank of the
fire and had scorch marks on them. For the first time she
saw her activities as Rollo might see them. She was
appalled by what might have been.
The experience faded like a bad dream. There was
mention on the news of a serious fire down in the city but
it was rare for much prominence to be given to anything
outside the cocooned world of the Zoo. The media weren't
keen to report what they feared to investigate.
Then Fiona had a new idea concerning the whereabouts
of Will Kid.
She dressed herself in sombre respectable clothes and
vidied the captain of police who had penetratingly inter-
viewed her after the escapade with her Connet.
After some delay she was put through.
'Captain,' she said, looking pale and nunlike.
'Mrs Cambridge. How are you!'
222

'As fine as I can be, in the circumstances. I want to ask
you something indiscreet.'
'Not too indiscreet, Mrs Cambridge,' he said with forced
joviality. 'This is an open line.'
'It's about your wonderful roundup of those terrible
brigands. My psychiatrist recommended I bring this into
the open.'
'What's that?'
'Will you be preferring charges in that little matter we
both know about, that traumatic experience I described to
you that you were so sympathetic over?' She let her voice
waver a little.
'Actually, Mrs Cambridge, we don't have the perpetrator
of that particular misdeed, I am afraid. We tried to match
DNA but it was no go. I'm very sorry. We don't have that
man.'
'I have to tell you I am relieved. I could hardly bear the
thought of the episode becoming public and what he might
say.'
'Well, it doesn't arise. Possibly he is dead. We didn't get
all the bodies. Your privacy will be assured in the matter.'
'Captain, I want you to know how much I appreciate
your handling of this delicate issue. I feel in your debt and
if ever the opportunity arises that I can do something for
you, you may rest assured your discretion will be re-
warded.'
'That's fine to hear, Mrs Cambridge. I'm just doing my
job.'
'Did you get that one you told me about? Will Kid. The
one named after the old-time pirate.'
'We certainly did. He is behind bars forever, I guess. I
still feel good about it every time I think of it.'
'Good for you. And thank you so much.'
Poor Will. Fiona meditated upon his incarceration. There
was nothing she could do to help him. The best legal
defence in the world would not get him off the hook, for
it was a hook of his own devising. It seemed an awful
Waste of a highly talented and well-hung man. She would
simply have to forget all about him.
223

The best way to do this, she decided, was to further her
plans concerning Janine and Rollo.
By way of preparation she took to playing with Rollo in
his sleep, just to get him on the right track, as it were. It
was not a process she enjoyed. It brought home to her her
humiliating status of a wife who had ceased to turn on her
husband. There was no fun to be had at all from tickling
a man's balls if he in return resembled nothing so much
as a sack of potatoes. Rollo might be stunning visually but
sexually he was in the tuber class. It made Fiona want to
spit.
She had a long conversation with Janine but felt the girl
needed little schooling. She was a born actress.
Fiona felt no sympathy for Rollo as she wove her devious
net around him. He was only getting what he deserved.
Indeed, he was getting far better than he deserved. Two
women, herself and Janine, were working flat out to arouse
his laggard sexual desire. Few men would find themselves
the object of so much concern. She ought to abandon the
libido-lacking son of a bitch.
Somehow she couldn't bring herself to do that.
As the night drew nearer, she drew in the loose ends
and tightened the knot.
'Honey,' she said over dinner one night.
'Yes?'
Poor innocent lamb, thought Fiona cynically. She strove
to keep her voice light and pleasant. 'Have you thought
any more about Janine since that occasion in our bed-
room?'
Rollo did not turn dark red nor did he drop his food. He
was far too sophisticated for that. But Fiona, watching him
narrowly for the slightest of signs, detected a certain
rigidity in his posture.
'She's crossed my mind,' he drawled. 'I've been busy, of
course.' He added this last hastily in case Fiona should get
the right idea. 'I hope she's all right now.'
'I don't know,' sighed Fiona. 'She's the best maid I ever
had and I am genuinely fond of her. I wish we could help
her with her problems.'
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'Her problems with men, you mean.'
'Her problem is that she doesn't have one. And because
she doesn't have one, she doesn't have the confidence to
go out and get one. She is really bugged by this virginity
business.'
'Yes,' said Rollo in a dull voice.
'She is afraid to get herself a boyfriend because of the
impediment of her virginity. She has the wit to realise a
man likes a woman to know what she is doing.'
'Yes, of course,' agreed Rollo unenthusiastically.
'She hates to present herself in such a dumb light. I have
assured her a man won't necessarily think like that. He
should honour her for her abstinence. She says that might
be what it says in the books but in real life men like women
who like men. And women who like men have done it.'
'A vicious circle,' said Rollo.
'Absolutely. If only she could break the circle.'
'And the membrane.'
Fiona trilled with laughter. 'Neatly put. But you are right.
Once she was started this whole problem would roll up
and go away.'
'Yes,' said Rollo in that same curious flat voice.
'Isn't it funny,' pursued Fiona, 'to think of that lovely
young girl like a ripe fruit waiting to be plucked. There is
a unique experience for some man with the guts to take
it. All her sweet young innocent rounded flesh awaiting a
man's prick. Like Sleeping Beauty, only she needs a prick
to wake her up, not to put her to sleep. He's going to be
a lucky bastard who first gets his cock inside her, don't
you think, Rollo?'
'Yes,' said Rollo and left the table in a hurry.
The next day when they were aligning their schedules,
Fiona told Rollo she would be spending the evening with
Diana and would not be back till late.
When Rollo finished work that night and had come
through to eat, alone as Fee had told him he would be, he
found she had left him a note telling him not to wait up.
She knew how he needed his sleep these days. She and
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Diana were going to a benefit performance of the ballet
and on to a newly opened restaurant that specialised in
insect-based cuisine. She would be back late.
He spread some flow charts across the table and settled
to eat.
He had finished his food and was working at the table
in amongst the mess when Janine came into the room. She
hesistated when she saw him there.
'Yes?' he said pleasantly to the girl, looking up.
'Please, Mr Cambridge,' she whispered.
'What is it, Janine?'
She burst into tears. 'I want to give my notice in.'
Damn, he thought, wishing Fee was there. He knew Fee
was keen to keep the girl.
'Surely not,' he said in hearty voice. 'We like having you
here very much, you know.'
'I'm just a nuisance. And I'm so unhappy.'
'You certainly are not a nuisance. I'm sorry you are
unhappy. Is there anything I can do to help?'
'You, er, Mrs Cambridge, uh, oh . . .' She burst into
renewed tears and howled dolefully.
Rollo gave a wistful look at his flow charts and stood up
to do his duty. He went over to the distressed girl and put
a fatherly arm about her. They sank together on to the step
that led down into the eating area.
'There, there,' he said. 'I'm sure all this is not necessary.'
'Mrs Cambridge has been so kind,' said Janine. She
gulped a couple of times like a frog and appeared to master
her tears.
'She's very fond of you.'
'She's tried to help me but I am beyond help.'
'I think that is a little overdramatic, Janine. Things can't
be that bad. Is it money? Perhaps we can help.'
'No. I'm fine for money. Mrs Cambridge pays me a very
generous wage.'
Rollo cursed mentally. Money was the easy option.
'It's men,' said Janine melodramatically.
'Men? More than one?'
'None.'
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'I beg your pardon.'
'None. Oh, Mr Cambridge,' cried Janine, drawing back
from him slightly and facing him. 'Am I really so awful?'
She had slightly chubby cheeks, a remnant from the
recent adolescence. Her pale face was woebegone and
tearstreaked. Her pale hair swung slightly and glowed
with life. Her large blue cornflower eyes swam mistily,
tears caught like diamonds on her thick lashes. She was
infinitely appealing.
Rollo leant towards her and carefully wiped the tears
from under her eyes. He smiled, softening the brilliance of
his own eyes. They frightened Janine but at the same time
she adored them. 'No, Janine,' he said softly. 'You aren't
awful at all.'
Innocence wreathed her. Rollo felt the full weight of his
years and sexual knowledge. She moved closer to him. He
felt the glow of her body-warmth and caught the faint
fresh smell of cologne.
'Do you mean that?' she begged.
'The man that has you,' said Rollo, 'is a very lucky man.'
'That's lovely,' she whispered, an adorable faint blush
lending colour to her wistful face. 'I wish it was true.'
Rollo took her face between his two hands. He drew her
closer and tilted his own face sideways. His eyes dropped
from hers to her lips.
He touched her mouth with his. She did not respond but
neither did she pull away. Again he laid his lips against
hers, almost holding his breath, and this time he felt her
lips flutter slightly beneath his. Her lack of knowledge,
lack of gloss, caught at his heart and his loins. He pressed
harder and opened her mouth with his.
She responded very gently, hesitantly, like a frightened
bird. Rollo kissed her as sweetly as he knew, tasting the
young freshness of her mouth, savouring her extreme and
rare innocence. As her tongue moved slightly against his,
he felt his penis rise sharply with desire. He pulled Janine
into him, and holding her tight against his hard body, he
kissed her deeply and thoroughly.
She pressed against him with a shy grace. He slid his
227

hand round her neck under her weight of hair and felt her
tremble as he caressed her sensitive nape.
At last he drew back. He held her face between his hands
again and searched for her expression. She looked breath-
less with wonder, mute in adoration of him.
He smiled into her face. 'You see,' he chided. 'You are a
lovely child.'
'But I don't want to be a child,' she breathed. 'Not any
longer.'
Rollo's hands trembled slightly. His groin ached. 'What
do you mean?' he asked carefully.
'I want... I want to grow up. To be a real woman.' She
blushed again.
Rollo released her face and drew her against him. With
his chin on her head he said in a flat voice: 'What do you
mean, exactly?'
'You know,' she mumbled into his shirt. 'Sex.'
Rollo held still for some time. Janine held her breath.
Then Rollo moved again so that he could look at her. Janine
saw the change in him and marvelled. He had lost the soft
protective look and gained a sort of glittery hardness. The
skin on his lean face had tightened. She felt the first sweet
stirrings of sexual power.
'You want a man to make love to you?'
'Yes.'
'Has this every happened to you before?'
Janine bent her head as if with shame. 'No,' she said in
a stifled voice.
'Why don't you get a boyfriend? I'm sure the youths at
the local disco will be willing to oblige.'
'I don't want a boy,' whispered Janine. 'I want a man.'
'Any man?'
'No.'
Rollo sighed. 'Who, then?'
'The best.'
'The best?'
'You.'
The silence grew and stretched between them. 'You see
why I have to go,' mumbled Janine.
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'What makes you think I am the best?'
The face she showed him was incredulous. 'For the likes
of me? You are like Prince Charming. You're, you're
perfect. So far above me. I'm a servant. Just a dumpy little
virgin eating my heart out for you. I don't expcect you to
want me.'
His chin was on her head again. She felt his chest shudder
with each strong beat of his heart. She closed her eyes and
savoured the exquisite moment.
'You should never say such things to a man. You
shouldn't belittle yourself.' He shook slightly.
'Why shouldn't I say them? I embarrass you, you mean?'
He clenched his hands into fists suddenly, deep in her
hair so that it hurt. His eyes blazed blue fire. 'You silly
bitch,' he said between his teeth. 'Because of course I want
to fuck you.'
If he had intended his coarseness to make her recoil, he
was mistaken. Janine took a hold of her shirt and ripped
it open. Her young breasts spilled out. 'I beg you to take
me,' she said. 'I beg you.'
Rollo came forward over her and began to kiss her
ferociously, trapping her between himself and the floor.
Janine found the change in him and his physical strength
terrifying and exulting. 'I'll do anything you want,' she
said hysterically. His mouth was on her breast. 'Tell me
what to do.'
Rollo stopped and tore himself from her. 'Your bed-
room,' he said. His breathing was ragged.
In the attic Fiona moved carefully until she was over
Janine's bedroom. She had already removed the plugs of
material from her two spyholes. Now she settled herself
in absolute silence as her husband and her maidservant
came into the room below her.
Her plan was working, it seemed.
Rollo moved the torn shirt back from Janine's shoulders
and kissed them, taking his time and lingering over her
strange flesh, so new to him. The shirt trapped her arms
against her body and she closed her eyes and moaned
faintly, pushing herself forward, offering herself to him.
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He looked down at her breast. It was firm and shapely,
the size to fit into a maris palm and his spread fingers, not
large but beautifully shaped. He worked her shirt off so
that her upper torso was bare. She hung her head as if in
shame and her hair spilled all around in a long wheat-fair
curtain. He separated it at the back of her head and kissed
her neck there.
She did nothing to him, leaving his body alone and
keeping her hands to herself. He took this as evidence of
her shyness and ignorance.
He ran his hands down her back and she straightened
and arched it so that her hair fell back and her breasts
thrust through. Rollo put a hand under her chin and began
to kiss her jawline and her ear.
Fiona watched silently from above.
Rollo had her mouth with his again. Hers was wide open
now like some chick in the nest appealing for sustenance.
He broke slightly from her and with their breaths mingling
he said: 'I can't turn back. You are sure this is what you
want?'
'I worship you/ whispered Janine. 'Do anything to my
body that pleases you.'
'And tomorrow, when you help dress my wife. What
then?'
'Mrs Cambridge is good to me/ said Janine artlessly.
'Look what she bought me.'
She broke from Rollo and reached for something over a
chair. It was a satin chemise, a delicate piece of nonsense,
creamy smooth with heavy ivory lace at its hem. Two
slender ribbons supported it across her shoulders.
'Fiona has excellent taste/ said Rollo. His eyes narrowed
as he watched Janine slip the garment on. He reached out
one hand, palm forward, and laid the centre of her nipple
outside the material. Gently he rotated his palm against the
tip of her breast so that the material frotted her slightly. He
felt her harden. He watched her face and saw it change.
'Take off your trousers/ he said.
She wriggled and slipped out of the clinging things.
Under them she wore a pair of French drawers made from
230

the same satin and ivory lace as the chemise. Rollo laid
his hand on her upper thigh and slipped his fingertips
under the lace. Her skin was firm and resilient. It was
dusted with fine gold hair. He stroked her thigh.
'I want you to remove my clothes for me/ he said.
He stretched himself on the bed. Her face was serious
and intent as she bent to her task. She undid the fastening
of his shirt and opened it shyly and looked at his chest,
richly tanned and smooth. With trembling fingers she
undid the top of his trousers. She fumbled over this task,
not quite clear what attached to what. Rollo made no move
to help her.
Then his trousers were undone also.
'Should I unzip them?' she asked.
'Yes.'
Her fingers reached awkwardly into his fly. She had been
aware for some time of the bulge within his clothing. Now
she felt the heat and pressure of his body. He was still
confined by his undergarment.
'Take off my shirt/ he said. He sat up and faced her so
that she had to come very close to raise it and take it off
over his head. Only the material of her chemise separated
their naked breasts.
He brought his hands round and found her waist,
holding it under the chemise, feeling the top of her drawers
and the bare skin above them. She did not have Fiona's
slenderness but her skin was elastic with youth.
She sat with her hair cascading all about her, trembling
slightly in his grasp so that he was almost unbearably
excited. He slid from the bed and stood up. 'Finish
undressing me/ he said.
She knelt at his feet and removed his house sandals. Then
she slid her hands nervously under the waistband and
took a deep breath. She pulled down, baring his groin. His
manhood sprang free close to her face. Her hair brushed
against it as she bent to lift each leg and free him of his
clothes. It quivered stiffly.
She bent right over before his naked body and kissed his
feet, her hair a pool on the floor. Then she raised herself
231

and sat back, looking at him, arrogantly naked and hard
erect, a beautiful sexual man.
'This is what you wanted,' he said harshly.
'Yes. It's so big,' she said naively.
'You've seen erect men before.'
'On Screen. This is different.'
Above them Fiona sat back and rubbed her eye. Then
she applied it once more to the scene below her.
Rollo bent one leg under him and sat on the bed. He
took Janine in his arms and kissed her again, sliding a
hand up under her chemise and finding her breast. He
played with her nipple till it was long and erect. She linked
her hands round his neck and shook slightly with what
he did to her. She was too shy to drop her own hands and
be free with him.
He laid her back on the bed and pushed up the chemise.
He put his lips to her breasts and kissed them both gently.
Then he let go and moved down the bed to her feet. He
picked one up and began to separate the toes, kissing each
one and sucking it. His hands caressed her ankle and ran
up her calf.
She stared at him, her eyes huge. He bent her knees,
bringing his hands suddenly closer to her secret places. He
ran his hand up under her thigh and let his fingers slip
under the lace. He slid his warm hand round her thigh till
it was at the front.
The tips of his fingers felt the down of her fleece. He took
his hand away and ran the finger over the outside of her
drawers, between her legs.
She was damp.
'Stand up,' he ordered. 'Here. By me.'
She stood by him where he continued to sit on the bed.
He lifted her chemise and kissed her ribs. He eased his
thumbs under the ribbon at her waist and felt round to
where it was tied in a little bow. He undid the bow and
loosened the ribbon. The drawers fell to her ankles in a
sigh of lace.
Her fleecy young thatch was bare before him. He put his
fingers into its little curls and fluffed it gently. Her stomach
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fluttered and he leant in to her and kissed its rounded
softness. His hands went round behind her and gripped
her buttocks. He held her against his face and kissed her
stomach, moving down till he was kissing her fleece direct.
Her bottom clenched involuntarily and he resisted the urge
to force her cheeks apart.
Still she trembled like a bird and did not touch him.
He tilted his head sideways and began to bite at her
projecting mound. At the same time his hands went back
up her body and found her breasts. He felt her nipples
and she pressed forwards against him, shaky on her legs,
almost fainting with emotion.
He put a hand between her thighs and pushed up till it
touched wet flesh. She fell then, and he caught her and
laid her on the bed.
He moved himself up beside her and laid himself against
her nakedness, stroking her hair back from her face. His
eyes were a deep dark blue, the colour of lust, and his
nostrils were flared. She looked startled, huge-eyed, like a
frightened fawn.
He kissed her throat and came on top of her.
Clumsily she put her arms round him, feeling his weight
bear her down, feeling his powerful muscled body, feeling
the absolute maleness of him on her. His legs were open
and astride hers, which remained tight closed.
His chest crushed her breasts. He lifted himself and
kissed her nipples and then drew himself right up so that
he was sitting on his heels astride her. His cock bounced
slightly, grazing her thighs.
Then he moved and opened her legs by main force,
pulling up her knees and pushing them apart. Janine
screwed her eyes shut and clenched her fists.
Perspiration beaded Rollo's upper lip. Even her fear
turned him on.
He looked between her legs. Her posture forced her
thighs wide apart as her legs sagged one to each side.
Within the fair curls dark with moisture he could see the
pale glimmer of secret flesh. He sank down and applied
his mouth to her closed rosebud of sex.
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She mewed.
'I must have you now/ he said, calmly and with steel in
his voice.
'Yes/ she whispered.
He could feel her thighs shake with nerves. Her pussy
was indescribable, almost unbearable in its sweetness. Its
musk was faint and light and the pale pink lobes of flesh
were tiny under his tongue.
He lapped her and saw her flush a deeper rosy colour,
becoming plumper, more free-standing as her inexperi-
enced flesh prepared instinctively for ingress. He slipped
his tongue into her vagina.
Even his tongue could feel the obstruction. She twisted
slightly and he heard her pant. He sucked, not too hard.
Though he did not know it, he emulated his wife in not
wanting to rupture her membrane in this way. He wanted
his cock to have the honour of first entering her palace.
He sat up and began to lower himself over her, ready
now to penetrate her and complete the act of defloration.
Her hands were on his shoulders. 'Now?' she whispered.
He was beside himself, almost incapable of speech. 'It'll
hurt/ he said roughly.
'Hurt me, please. Please!' Her voice was wild.
He pushed her legs wide apart, as far as they would go.
His member was so stiff with lust it needed no hand to
guide it. He moved his hips and began to push at her
entrance.
Above them tears coursed down Fiona's cheeks. She
wiped them savagely away. She was close to orgasm
herself.
Janine screamed and went rigid. Rollo stopped, hardly
any of his long prick inside her. Janine forced herself to
relax. 'Go on/ she whispered.
Rollo pushed again. She jerked under him and he
pushed on. The tightness was unbelievable. She gripped
and attempted to repel his cock. He hung still for a
moment, not to help her but to savour fully the moment
of violation.
He pushed again and felt her resistance tear. She gave a
234

sobbing moan and he drove his full length within her. He
was gripped by a fantastic tightness, both hard and dry.
His sex bloomed within her, its muscle adjusting to her
narrowness and forcing her riven flesh apart.
'Are you in?' she asked, her voice little more than a
plaintive whimper.
'Yes.' He looked down on her tearstreaked face, and now
that he was free to feel pity without it preventing what he
was doing, he had some sympathy for her. 'Is it so very
bad, my poor sweet child?'
'It stings but I love it.'
He began to move in her, very slight movements because
she was so tight and dry. She held him so tightly that he
was almost in pain himself. Then, gradually, he began to
lubricate them both and movement became easier.
Her eyes were shut and her brows drawn together in a
frown of concentration. Rollo felt his temperature rise and
he began to move in earnest. Each stroke was difficult
but the sensation was fantastic. He wanted to extend it
though he knew for Janine's sake he should keep it short.
But for himself, he longed for this unique nexus to last
forever.
He felt her soften slightly and his bruised prick eased a
little. She grew a little turgid under his inner caress. Her
sexual organs were beginning to work properly. He
speeded up, trying not to drive too roughly into her but
glorying in the force he still needed for each penetration.
His climax was approaching and he felt his balls slap
against her and his shaft rippled within her flesh.
His orgasm took him, a white-hot explosion in the length
of his prick. He hit into her and felt her jerk. His spunk
was released and out of control he spent himself in her in
a series of harsh juddering blows.
He rested on his elbows when he was done, his head
hanging and his dark blond hair flopping wetly down.
She lay quiescent, his shaft still within her, and he could
feel her strangeness all about him. Very slowly he began
to slip out of her.
His spunk frothed pink from her. She lay docile, the
235

chemise rucked up above her breasts and her legs splayed
wide apart. He could see what he had destroyed and what
he had created at one and the same time.
'Janine/ he said.
Her eyelids were veined with delicate blue lines. They
fluttered and opened.
'Janine/ he said again.
'Yes.'
'Look at me.'
'Yes.' Her eyes were drowned and mysterious, her face
serene.
'Does it hurt bad?'
She considered. She smiled and it was like the sun
breaking through. 'It hurts good/ she said.
'Welcome to the world.' He began to pull back.
'You're leaving me. Now!' Her voice squeaked in panic.
'I'm going to the bathroom to wash. OK? I don't think
we are finished yet, are we?'
'Oh. Should I wash?'
'You are fine the way you are.'
Alone, Janine drew up her legs, grimacing slightly, and
tried to see herself. She touched the spunk that dribbled
from her curiously and sniffed at what was on her finger.
From above Fiona looked down on the girl's open legs
frothing with spunk from her own husband and felt
wetness between her own legs.
Rollo came back, the tension gone from his body though
his eyes had a satyr's glitter to them. 'I want you to play
with me/ he said.
She smiled shyly. 'You'll have to tell me what to do/ she
said.
'Follow your instincts. Explore me. Be as dirty as you
like. There's nothing to get embarrassed about. Find out
what my body feels like. Go in what you can get in and
go round what you can't. I'm quite tough, Janine. You
needn't worry about hurting me.'
Thus licensed, Janine began to rove.
She was hesitant at first, self-conscious, but as Rollo lay
peacefully letting her do what she willed and not speaking,
236

she began to move with more confidence. She ran her
hands over the smooth planes of his body, feeling his chest
and shoulders and cupping his muscles. She was fasci-
nated by his breadth and strength, the veining on him, the
bulge of muscle.
She felt his stomach and hips, delighting in the satin skin
over iron-hard bone and muscle. She was shy of his groin
but she explored the column of his thighs with their
powerful tendons, so different from hers, and his strong
knees and calves and feet.
'Now here,' said Rollo, touching his soft prick.
Her hand brushed him like a butterfly's wing.
'You've never touched a naked man before,' he mar-
velled.
'You are the first,' she replied with strict truth. She lifted
his limp penis and lowered it again. It stiffened slightly.
Rollo opened his legs and put his balls into Janine's
hands. 'Go easy,' he said.
She played with him as Fiona had taught her whilst up
above Fiona watched, her green eyes hard.
His cock grew a little stiffen
'Kiss me,' he said.
She came up his body, the chemise slipping as she did
so.
'No. Down here.'
She looked startled and he laughed and took the chemise
up over her head and tossed it to one side. 'Go on,' he
said.
She kissed the side of his shaft with lips primly pursed.
She repeated this several times.
Put the damn thing in your mouth,' said Rollo.
She took the very end between her lips.
'Suck,' he snarled, his eyes shut.
She sucked and felt him grow hard and large within her
mouth.
'Go on. Suck harder.'
She sucked hard. He was swollen in her mouth. She
tasted the strange head and sucked with a will.
'OK.' He knotted his hand in her hair and pulled her
237

head off him. Her eyes were large and soft. His were bright
and hard.
'He's ready for more/ he said. 'Can you take it?'
'In my mouth?' Her voice rose to a terrified squeal.
'In your sex.'
'Yes.' She lay back eagerly but Rollo caught at her hair
again. 'Look at him now that he's ready, see?'
She looked at his great swollen darkened pole with its
bloated head. She saw the pale purple of a vein running
beneath the silken skin. She reached out a tentative hand
and touched him. He bounced under her touch, alive and
strong.
'Cradle my balls/ he said.
She cupped their warm hairy fullness, feeling the two
hard nuts within the sac.
'Now grasp my cock with your fist. Ease the skin up and
down. That's it. Not too much. Firm but not tight.'
An opaque droplet, a tear, oozed from the eye in the
head. Rollo sighed. 'Your tongue/ he said. 'Lick it off.'
She took the droplet on the very tip of her tongue and
then tasted it.
'Now I'm going to enter you again.'
Obediently she lay back and Rollo came on top of her.
His shaft nuzzled into her tight place but this time the
passage was not sealed and she was slimy wet from his
previous ingress.
He felt his knob slip firmly in. She squeaked slightly but
was otherwise silent. He forgot her, concentrating on the
rare tightness and constriction around his burning shaft.
He pushed very slowly in, enjoying the increasing pressure
as he gradually forced her new-made channel apart. Its
wet walls stuck together and tried to resist the stranger,
but the resistance served only to inflame him, and he
increased the force he used and penetrated her fully. Her
tiny young passage gripped him tightly and then relaxed
very slightly as her new womanhood eased around his
shaft and made the first tentative stirrings to welcome him-
When he was right in, up to the hilt, he bit her ear lobe.
She jumped and he pulled back and drove in again.
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This time as he pumped her he kissed her mouth and
her breasts and her throat and under her arms till she was
moaning beneath him. He continued his deep steady
plunges in the slickness of his previous come, bringing
himself smoothly to the peak of pleasure.
'I'm going to come,' he said into her hair. His shaft
trembled. She lifted her hips and for the first time met his
plunge so that their wet flesh thudded together.
'Oh, good girl,' he groaned.
His cock swelled and as he prepared for the glorious
moment of release she pushed up, meeting his and trig-
gering his climax. He jerked, driving into her harder than
he had intended, and driving again and again till he had
emptied himself and spent his lust in her.
Her hands were at the back of his neck, her back arched
so she was driving her body up into his. He felt her nails
gouge his skin. He rolled over, holding her hard by the
waist so she would not slide off him, and settled her astride
his diminishing rod. He put his hands behind his head and
smiled up at her, the smile of a satisfied lecher.
'You adorable little whore,' he said. 'A virgin whore.
Who'd have thought it?'
'Did I do it right, Mr Cambridge?'
'You sure as hell did.'
She looked smug, childishly pleased at her success.
Between her legs the golden man was like a god to her.
'Another time,' said Rollo deliberately, 'I'm going to take
that delectable little pussy of yours and suck it free of
spunk.'
'I'm bleeding,' she confessed.
'You won't be next time.'
Above them Fiona sat up rubbing her eyes and easing
her cramped stiff body. She ached with randiness.
Her plan had worked, worked with a vengeance. Re-
membering what she had seen and knowing what she
knew, it was hard to say who had seduced whom.
239

Chapter Sixteen
T
he following morning Fiona was startled to hear on
the news that one of the pirates held in captivity had
escaped. There were few details yet, no doubt the suffi-
ciency of egg on people's faces was obscuring the free
movement of information, but they had a picture of the
violent and dangerous man now at large.
Of course it was Will.
Fiona wanted desperately for him to get away. There
was no way she could help him and it was obvious to her
that he would make for the city where he had friends and
a kind of life. There could be no other place safe for him
to hide.
She made love in the afternoon with Janine, free at last
to explore within the girl as she had wanted to do for so
long. She did not admit that she had spied on the girl
making love with her husband. That was a piece of
knowledge she kept fiercely close to her breast. She made
Janine tell her, bit by bit, everything that Rollo had done
to her and with her and how she had felt, pain and triumph
and glee.
Over and above the undercurrent of jealousy, Fiona felt
240

the power of the puppetmaster. She had manipulated
Janine to her will. Now she had manipulated Rollo
through Janine, the girl playing her innocent part so
completely that she would have fooled Fiona herself, had
Fee not known better. And though she had bent the
unknowing Rollo to her will, he would bear the burden
of guilt and feel that he owed her.
Fee enjoyed hearing Janine talk dirty, hearing her tell her
mistress what her mistress's husband had done with her
body. Fee touched her and copied, as far as she was able,
what Rollo had done to the girl. She and Janine had more,
far more that they could do together. There was self-love
in the way they exploited each other's bodies. And Janine,
who had pretended to be shocked when Rollo had wanted
her to take him in her mouth, sucked his wife to climax
with a will. And with growing expertise. Awareness of
her own femininity made her more responsive to Fiona's.
And Fiona, touching lips, breast, vulva and bottom, found
a woman exciting and arousing and mysterious to be with.
She sucked Janine to climax. The girl twisted with
pent-up desire and yelled aloud when she felt the orgasmic
release within her for the first time. Fiona found the flood
of wet in her mouth divine. This was nectar. This was
ambrosia. With Janine, she tasted the food of the gods.
On Janine's day off Fee answered a call to the door.
'Who is it?' she asked through the grille.
'Let me in, Skelton. They are right behind me.'
She triggered the door release and Will Kid slipped inside
and stood panting against the wall.
It was so good to see him she felt faint. He stood as tall
and broad as ever, his wild mane emphasising his slanting
angled cheekbones and his wide-set hazel eyes. But he was
different. His eyepatch was missing though Fiona could
detect nothing odd about his blind eye save for a tiny
opaque blemish in it. He wore prison clothes, dour cheap
material, ill-fitting trousers and a grubby shirt.
'How close behind you?' she said.
'Minutes. They'll search here. I can pretend I forced you.'
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His voice trailed off. His skin tone was vile, dull, filthy.
Fee saw he was exhausted.
'Are they using DNA sniffers?' she asked urgently.
'Yes, I'm sorry it has to end like this for us, Fee.'
She missed the use of her real name. He was done for,
she saw, almost at the point of collapse. Her mind meshed
smoothly.
'Follow me. Quick.'
'It's no use.'
'Up. Quick.'
She led him to below the loft trap and pressed the device
that released the stairs. They lowered silently. He climbed
heavily behind her, too tired to argue.
'Here,' she said. 'It's an authentic astronaut's suit. We
got it from moonbase one holiday. Get in and I'll seal it.
It'll defeat the sniffers.'
She ran back down and got out the multivac, something
she never usually touched. It dedusted and ionised the
air in the apartment, processing it for allergens and
pollutants. And organic traces. Whilst it howled at full
blast she activated the carpet enzymes, tiny self-replicat-
ing robot chips that lay invisibly in the floor coverings
and ate dirt.
She ran back up the steps and found Will within the suit.
She did up the last connections and waved the nozzle of
the multivac all around, up the loft steps and into the loft
itself and over her own body. Then she descended and
sent the steps back up into the loft, closing the trap
electronically.
Five minutes had passed.
She ran to the bathroom and turned on the taps, keying
the water sensor that would stop the flow well up the rim
of the tub. She came back and put the multivac away and
turned off the carpet enzymes. She tore off her clothes and
heard the front door buzz. She dunked herself in the tub
with her underwear still on, grabbed a towel and came
back to the door, trying to calm her breathing.
'Who is it?' she queried languidly.
'Police, ma'am. May we come in?'
242

'Damn you, no.' Fiona achieved a throaty laugh. 'I'm
having my bath, officer. Make an appointment.'
'I'm afraid we must insist. There is a criminal loose in
this area.'
'The hell there is. How exciting. Do you think he is
underneath my towel?'
'We will use an explosive device on your door unless
you let us in, ma'am.'
Fiona knew the police had the means and the authority
to do this, though she had never heard of it being done to
anyone in the Zoo.
She released the door.
She was magnificently angry and allowed her towel to
keep slipping, though she kept catching it.
'What is going on? I thought my home was inviolate.'
'There is a criminal loose here, ma'am. Our sniffers
indicate he has been at your door.'
'How would he get in?'
'That we couldn't say.' There were two of them, lean and
mean-tempered. They carried whip guns. 'Since he broke
out of prison and hacked for a living, maybe he can
override your personal barcode. We have to check it out.'
'This is the missing pirate, isn't it? How thrilling. I must
vidi my friends.'
'Not just now. Wait till we have gone.'
'In that case I shall go back to my bath.' She gave them
a saucy look and flounced off through her bedroom to her
bathroom.
She managed to get off her sodden underwear and dump
it on her clothes, dropping into the hot water. The foamers
tickled her chin and she lay and thought of Will.
She waited.
She heard them move through the apartment and prayed
her plan might work. The suit was genuine and something
manufactured to withstand outer space could defeat a few
sniffers. She considered what might be done to her if she
Was caught out helping Will and dismissed the speculation
as pointless from her mind.
There was a tap at the door.
243

'Come in/ she called frostily. Her entire body was buried
in foam.
The trooper put his head around the door. 'We're sorry
to have disturbed you, ma'am. You can rest assured that
you are alone in the apartment. The criminal has never
penetrated here. There is no internal DNA trace.'
Under the foam Fiona allowed her hand to float from
her labia to her arse. Will certainly had penetrated here. 'I
could have told you that/ she said to the trooper.
'He stopped at your door. We had to be sure he didn't
get in.'
'It's up to me who gets in/ said Fee ambiguously.
'You are quite safe, anyway/ said the trooper. 'We are
leaving now.'
After a few minutes she levered herself out of the bath
and checked the entire apartment, making sure that they
were really gone. Then she phoned Diana and told her of
their visit. Whilst she was on the vidi, the police arrived
at Diana's and Fee felt she had covered herself sufficiently,
her behaviour being normal in the circumstances.
She dried herself and slipped on a housecoat. She knotted
up her hair. Then she opened up the loft.
He was half-suffocated when she reached him, for no air
could get into the suit and it had no breathing apparatus
attached. She helped him out and supported his weight
down the steps, no mean feat. He was a heavy man in a
bad way. She took him through to the kitchen and sat him
at her table.
'What first?' she said. 'Food? Sleep? A bath? New
clothes?'
He looked at her. 'Yeah. All that.'
She found high energy food and put it before him with
some canned beer from the fridge. She went back to her
bathroom and set the bath to empty and self-clean. Then
she set it to refill. She took him through and without
flirtatiousness she stripped him and helped him in, show-
ing him the temperature control. She took his clothes and
incinerated them. She found an old robe of Rollo's and
when she went back to the bathroom he was asleep. His
244

face was grey with fatigue. Rollo would be back soon, he
was at the gym, and she must have Will hidden before he
returned.
She sat on the edge of the bath and woke him up. His
eyes blinked and he looked at her.
'OK, so how'd you find me?'
'You were on the Screen. Fee Cambridge, wife of Rollo
Cambridge, director of TransFlow.'
'Right.'
'I knew you must live in the Zoo. I checked the listings.
That was before I was caught.'
'Were you going to come here?'
'You'll never know.'
She considered him. 'I don't know much about our police
service. You'll have to tell me what to do next.'
'I need to sleep. And then eat some more.'
'It'll have to be the attic. My husband will be home soon.
We have a maid also, though this is her day off. You've
been damned lucky.'
'The devil looks after his own.'
'Will I have to help you out of the tub?'
He started to laugh raggedly. 'You crazy bitch. You have
all this and that damned smooth-arsed husband of yours
and more money than you could ever spend and you come
down to the city to screw a pirate.'
'I did that, didn't I?'
'Was it worth it?'
'Are you asking if you have a good cock?'
'I know the answer to that one,' he said with lazy
insolence.
Fiona laughed. 'Get out of the bath, pirate. I'll fix you a bed.'
She made him up a mattress and a covering. Then she
heaped food and drink for him. She found him some
clothes and put them by the bed also. He was taller than
Rollo, though not by much, and his lower dimensions were
surprisingly similar. His barrel chest would make Rollo's
things look too tight.
'Keep the noise down, huh?' she said, back downstairs.
'I can't guarantee Rollo's behaviour.'
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'I need sleep. I'm quiet in my bed when I am alone.'
'There is a light up there. Don't come down. Wait for
me to come up.'
'Give me a long time.'
'Hey, look, here's a watch.' She gave him a spare one of
her own, an incongruous jewelled thing. 'Shall I leave you
the rest of the day and all night? Rollo goes to work early
but Janine will be here tomorrow.'
'I know I can't stay.' He checked the watch. 'Come for
me in twelve hours. At four in the morning. Will loverboy
sleep soundly?'
'He takes a pill. Janine won't be back till nine tomorrow
morning but the door is coded for her and she gets in
without asking me.'
'Right. Come in the night, then. As you always did.'
She went up the steps with him to make sure he had
what he needed, including a bucket. His big naked una-
roused body fascinated her. He was sweet-smelling from
the bath and he had used her teeth-cleaning device. His
loose wet curls clustered on his neck.
He slid into the bed she had prepared for him and she
knelt and stroked his brow for a moment.
'Glad to see you aren't beat,' she said lightly. 'I didn't
like to think of you in jail.'
'Chain's dead,' he said.
'I'm sorry. He was a raping son of a bitch but he did me
no real harm.'
'He was my brother.'
'I'm sorry, Henson Carne.'
He looked startled. 'You know that?'
'Yes. Look, sleep now. We'll sort something out.'
'Fee Cambridge,' he said and gave a crack of laughter.
She left him.
The rest of the day passed and Fiona found it hard to
remember at times that she had a pirate in the attic. She
worried over how to help him. He needed a new persona,
that much was obvious. He couldn't stay hidden in her
apartment for long.
246

Then, with a queer pang, she realised all she had to do
was lead him over the wire and back to the city. He would
need nothing else from her, so why was she worrying
about papers and a new identity?
She knew, of course, She wanted him able to move in
her world. She wanted him accredited, a legal person, able
to live and work.
And screw.
She woke herself at four in the morning using an
intra-aural alarm so as not to disturb the sleeping Rollo.
She left him drugged into peaceful oblivion whilst she
operated the mechanism that released the steps to the loft.
She retracted the steps behind her. She didn't want Rollo
to come looking if he woke.
She padded softly across the floor to Will.
He was awake, watching her, his eyes glittering in the
dim light. He looked considerably better for his food and
rest, filled out somehow, his tight lines dissipated.
She felt the force of his personality as she moved
towards him and suddenly became queerly aware that he
was not a safe man, not tame, and he would not abide
by her rules. Exhaustion had temporarily tamed him
when he came tumbling through her door. Now he was
fit again.
When she got to him he pulled her roughly down and
kissed her, his mouth as fiery as she had remembered,
spiced liquid gold.
She slid on to the mattress beside him. 'We have to talk.'
'We have to fuck.'
'Will, this isn't the time.'
'Take what's offered when it's offered. Tomorrow might
not happen.' His tongue was in her ear.
'I haven't offered.'
'I have,' said Will. 'Now take it.'
He slid her robe off and kissed her breasts hard, pulling
at the nipples so that she was instantly pierced by pleasure
and the need for sex rose in her strongly.
There was no time for sophistication or foreplay. He
hauled her long pale body down beside his and rolled on
247

top. He entered her hard and fast, fully erect, and began
to work her, feeling her juices run and bathe his shaft.
Fee gripped his hair and kept her mouth shut.
He bucked hard. His wonderful prick flamed inside her
and she felt a possessive pride that she could take such a
man and please him. She rose violently to meet his thrusts
and their flesh smacked between them.
Their climax was not long delayed. Their pounding
escalated in speed and violence until they clung together
in an ecstasy of savage thrusts. Fiona's blood was pound-
ing and through a red haze she felt his shaft pulse strongly
as he ejected sperm into her. Her own muscles rippled in
concert as she sought to drain him and fill herself with the
lava of his sexual eruption. Her own climax was upon her
and she tossed her head from side to side in an effort to
keep her mouth shut. She jerked violently against him,
rigid with exploding lust. She felt the enormous heat of
their come foaming round his slackening shaft, oozing
onto her thighs, crushed by his balls. She squeezed down
on his fading erection, breathing hard.
He kissed and sucked her ear. 'Fantastic bitch,' he said.
She felt him laugh. The bastard took all the credit, no
doubt, for the quality of their lovemaking. Gradually her
dizziness passed.
'Are you going back to the city?' she asked. 'I can take
you the way I went, over the Zoo, on the wire.'
'What else is there?7 He nuzzled her warm sweaty body
and kissed her soft skin.
She took her time to answer. She rolled on to her back,
green eyes narrowed to fierce bright slits. Her mind ran
smooth and slick the way it did sometimes after good sex,
as slick as her wet thighs.
'Will Kid was a pirate.' she said.
'Yeah.'
'They hanged him in 1701.'
'The things you know.'
'But six years earlier he had been granted the King's
commission to seek out and destroy pirates.'
'Fancy that.'
248

'What made you, Henson Carne, choose the name of Will
Kid?'
'I didn't know any other.'
'Were you a policeman?'
There was a long silence. 'No,' he said.
Fiona stayed quiet. She had a feeling he wasn't finished.
'You're a clever bitch,' said Will presently. 'My brother
was.'
'Chain.'
'Yes.'
'What happened?'
'He found corruption. He was framed to make his
evidence of no value. They were going to imprison him
for life on fabricated charges to protect themselves. I took
him out and we went to the city.'
'You were OK yourself?'
'Not after I sprung Chain.'
'What were you?'
'A molecular biochemist.' He started to laugh. As Fee
caught on, she started to laugh with him.
'A locksmith,' she gasped.
'You've got it.'
Locks were based on an individual's gene structure
which was unique - except for that of identical twins. This
was called the genetic fingerprint and it could be read as
a barcode using any part of the body, though the finger
itself was easily the most convenient. Locks were con-
structed using the skills of advanced genetic biologists.
No wonder Carne was good at locks. He had made the
damn things for a living. Computer hacking was not in
essence any different. You had to match patterns to get in
if you did not have the genetic code of the owner which
gave programmed access, and although the patterns were
electromagnetic, not genetic, there was a biological anal-
ogy involved because increasingly, machines mimicked
nature, which had had four and half billion years to get it
right.
It had taken geneticists half a century to unravel the
genome of a simple nematode worm, one millimetre long.
249

Mimicry made sense. They weren't going to come up with
anything more complex than nature's own blueprint for
life.
'Could you have broken my doorcode?' Fee asked. The
word from the manufacturers was that they were inviolate.
'How many people is it coded for?'
'Three.'
'No.' He smiled at her. 'Where I can win is with a door
whose control code has a large number of permitted
entrants. The barcode gets less and less complex as it
incorporates more and more combinations and the chances
of you tripping a combination that lies within its parameters
get better and better. The prison had old-fashioned locks,
far simpler than the design you have on your door. Even
so, it took me eight days. I'm a little rusty.'
'You had to guess the barcode, the combination of a
specific guard? The odds against that must be terrific.'
'No. Your door, say, has a forty-aspect code. It is coded
for three people who probably have nothing in common
genetically. So at maximum it allows any combination of
forty within the programmed one hundred and twenty
aspects. Any combination. Not specifically yours or your
husband's or your maid's. If someone came along who
happened incredibly to fall within that one hundred and
twenty aspects, they could get in. The prison was using a
ten aspect code and it had about a thousand acceptable
aspects. That shortened the odds.'
'Old-fashioned keys would be simpler.'
'You try telling that to the prison authorities. Newer is
better to them. And they don't reckon to have a lockmaster
in the jail, I guess.'
'Do you ever want to go back to that world? This world,
I should say.'
'That's a question.'
'William Kid wanted to.'
'But I am not William Kid, as we have established.'
'Chain is dead. You can't help him now. How about
getting on with your own life?'
'Too expensive. I don't deny it can be done but it is a
250

hell of a complicated procedure and I might have to hide
for some time.'
'It depends on someone real dying, doesn't it?'
'Yes. You have to have someone with a rough physical
fit and you buy their papers before they are filed dead.
The papers have to be copied and returned to the widow
or whatever with a null code inserted so that when the
papers are filed, the computer rejects the information of
death.'
'No one realises?'
'They use low quality staff. And a viral null code can
take many forms. It isn't easy to recognise even if you are
looking for one.'
'How expensive is all this?'
He told her. 'Yes,' she said thoughtfully. 'It could be done
but it would take time. I would have to fix the accounting
to hide such a large sum of money going out.'
Will shrugged. 'I'll go back to the city.'
'If you had a new persona, could you make out? I mean,
could you get a job worth a damn?'
'I reckon.'
She looked at him speculatively. 'You need something
dangerous or you'll go bad again.'
'I've always been bad,' said Will. He licked the inside of
her mouth. 'I always will be. Like you.'
'I'm losing the taste,' she said grimly. 'I went back to
look for you after the news of police raids. I didn't know
if you were free or not.'
'Is that so? Didn't you like the city without me to cheer
it up? There are plenty of others with nice big prongs to
help a little lady like you. A greedy lady.'
'The games were on. I went to the stadium. The damn
place caught fire and scared me half to death.'
'You were in that? I heard about that.'
Her green eyes slid over towards him. 'To tell you the
truth, I don't want to go back.'
'Not even if I am there?'
'Perhaps that's why I want you somewhere else.'
'Space roughnecks aren't asked too many questions.
251

Mining moonside has a high casualty rate so they don't
get picky over who applies. Nor are they fussy about
third-degree deep-sea manganese divers nor uranium
miners. Good pay, too. Lousy insurance, of course.'
'Diving pay won't hold up,' said Fiona.
'Why not?'
'They have found an enhanced way to extract all the
elements from seawater and sell the fresh clean water at
the end of it.'
Will stared at her. 'Commercially viable?'
'Yes.'
'Won't that ruin the profitability of TransFlow? I mean,
technologically- speaking, it's out of the ark.'
She was pleased at his acumen. 'It could but it won't.'
'Why not?'
'Rollo personally owns the patent on the process.'
Will began to laugh. 'The bastard,' he said. 'The clever
no-good bastard. You have it all sewn up, don't you?'
'We hope so. There are always unplanned factors.'
Will slumped back at this glimpse of high-financial
jiggery-pokery. 'Perhaps I'll take you up on your offer,'
he said. 'I reckon you can afford me.'
It was six in the morning before she was ready to slip back
into bed beside Rollo, clean from her bathroom.
Rollo woke as she got into bed. He reached out a lazy
hand and stroked her skin.
'Morning, darling,' said Fiona. 'Sorry I disturbed you.
Go back to sleep.'
But Rollo had other ideas. His hands caressed her breasts
and he found her lips and kissed her hungrily.
'Do something dirty with me/ he said. 'I'm morning-
horny. Or would you rather I was disgusting with you?'
Fiona had checked that Rollo was still asleep once or
twice during her long session with Will. She hadn't
explained why there should be a peephole above her bed
and Will hadn't asked. She could only hope Will had gone
back to sleep.
'You be disgusting with me/ she said. This was the first
252

dividend from the episode with Janine. It was nice to know
she had not handed her hysband over to the girl for
nothing, but she could wish his timing had been better.
Will didn't leave much of a woman unused and his
strength seemed to have returned abruptly.
So Rollo felt disgusting, did he, after the pure little games
with Janine? Now there was a satisfactory turn-up for the
books.
She slitted her eyes and watched Rollo thinking about
what to do with her. This was nice. She appeared to be
going from not getting enough action to being almost not
able to handle what was on offer. A laugh started in her
throat. She had screwed with the criminal hiding in the
loft. She had had the sweetest of sweet female intimacies
with the delicious newly-awakened nymphet, Janine, who
was so adorably enticing that it made her pussy grow juicy
just to think about her. And her husband was at last
fulfilling his proper conjugal role, and in an interestingly
improper way, it seemed.
All she needed was Jamie in the kitchen and big whore-
house Clive in her bathroom and the house would be
complete.
'What's making you grin so dirty?' asked Rollo.
'Get on with it,' she said lazily, trying not to laugh.
He moved across the room and came back with some-
thing she couldn't see. She was looking at the ceiling,
relieved to see its pristine whiteness.
Rollo grabbed her and heaved her violently upside
down. She squawked indignantly as he stood her on her
head and he gripped her so that her legs hung down, her
thighs against her stomach and her bottom right up in the
air. Something went round her legs and back and was
pulled tight. Rollo still supported her upside down, but
her legs were strapped to her body with a leather belt so
that her vulnerable sex was poking up in the air, complete-
ly exposed.
'Lovely,' muttered Rollo. 'Now it occurs to me, Fee, that
you have been going out too much lately and you need a
little correcting. You need to know who is the boss here.
253

I aim to teach you. First of all, let's cool down that sexual
heat you feel all the time, you randy bitch.'
He began to push something hard and unyielding into
her. Fiona squirmed but the strap held her body trapped
to itself and Rollo had her in a grip of iron. She yelled as
her groin froze. The bastard was putting ice in her.
'Now you are nice and cool,' said Rollo maliciously, 'I'll
take pity on you, you slut, and heat you up some.'
Fiona's insides burned and tingled with the cold. Rollo
was unrelenting. Then she screamed, forgetting the possi-
bility of Will hearing her in the attic. Her vulva exploded
with pain. Needles of heat, hundreds of them, radiated
sharply through her. Rollo struck her again with his tiny
multi-thonged whip, right across her quivering pulpy
upturned sex, right across her sensitive clitoris. He flicked
her again and again so that the thongs licked into her
entrance and stung her there.
Fiona roared and yelled as he scourged her, and her flesh,
frozen within and burning without, began to feel very
peculiar.
All her underparts were fully exposed to her abuser.
They glowed and itched so that she was full of an agony
of desire as the individual flicks of the whip faded into a
glorious generalised stinging heat. As the ice melted cold
water bubbled up from her gash and dripped over the
assaulted flesh. Rollo yelled as he beat her.
At this moment, at Rollo's bizarre mercy, exposed,
humiliated, degraded, assaulted and ravaged, Fiona knew
for certain Will Kid would be watching from above, alerted
by the noise. He would see her husband fiercely admon-
ishing the very parts of her that had clasped his cock in
frantic desire less than an hour previously. The ironic
reversal of roles, Will seeing her and Rollo like this as she
had witnessed Janine and Rollo, produced in her a desire
for sex that made her want to scream. Almost she wanted
Will in the room as Rollo pounded into her boiled frozen
sex. As Rollo fell on her and plunged into her, she wanted
the two cocks shoved in simultaneously.
Rollo did not remove the tight leather belt. He let her fall
254

so that he could ram his rigid shaft into her fiery cold hole.
The outer heat and the inner sodden cold stimulated his
frenzied efforts to new heights of greedy lust. He took his
pleasure on Fiona and he took it as hard as he could.
When he was done with her, he withdrew and looked
at his handiwork. Her bruised vulva bubbled with his
spunk. He laughed and released the strap.
Fiona unrolled and slapped him hard across the face.
He roared with laughter and pushed his oily thickness
between her luscious breasts, deep into the lovely cleft,
and rolled it about.
'Stop yelling, woman, and be grateful,' he said insolently.
'One day you'll be a dry old crone and have to live on
your memories whilst you watch younger people rutting
away. Now is for living.'
This was reminiscent of Will. Fiona eyed the ceiling
trying to spot the little dark blip which would indicate a
silent watcher.
Rollo opened her legs and began to kiss tenderly what
he had abused.
Quite suddenly, she fell asleep.
255

Chapter Seventeen
F
iona awoke to find Janine sitting on the bed.
'I'm sorry, Mrs Cambridge,' said the girl. 'I didn't
mean to wake you.'
Fee reached up a long arm and caught Janine by the
neck. She drew her down and they kissed lovingly with
open mouths. 'Come into bed with me a minute, pussycat,'
she said sleepily. Janine's sweet softness would be a
pleasing antidote to the male rudeness she had enjoyed in
the night. Enjoyed very much as well.
Rollo, his sexual sleep over, the prince awake. The pirate
in the attic.
'Darling,' she said as Janine slipped naked between the
sheets. 'Here, where Rollo lies. Cuddle me some and kiss
me. Rollo made me sore last night and I want you to kiss
it better.'
Janine rubbed her warm yielding body against Fiona's
sleep-dopy one. 'I love you before you've bathed in the
morning, Mrs Cambridge,' she confessed. 'I love the smell
of the night on you, and the smell of Mr Cambridge where
he slept with you.' She began to kiss Fiona between her
breasts where a slight trail of sweat always accumulated,
256

sliding her hand down over Fee's belly to her crotch.
'You're all sticky/ she said in surprise. Fiona was always
clean. She never left her body unwashed after sex.
'That was Rollo. I went right off to sleep before I got to
the bathroom to shower. Do you mind?'
Janine closed her lips over one of Fee's nipples and
sucked intently whilst her hand moved round Fiona's
groin. When her mouth was free, she whispered: 'I love
you mucky from him. Can I go down on you?'
'Sure baby/ said Fiona, opening her legs and relaxing.
Janine was gentle and soft with her. Her clever knowing
little mouth tenderly lipped and tongued and very gently
sucked all Fee's musky underparts. Her snub nose rubbed
Fee's clitoris whilst her rounded tongue gentled the
bruised flesh lovingly. Fee let her own hand drift comfort-
ably within the girl's fleece and slid a thumb within her
pink wet orifice. Her bladder nagged her faintly and
suddenly her eyes opened and she stared up at the ceiling.
She could see the minute black hole.
'You're so sucky/ breathed Janine.
Her orgasm knifed through her, catching her by surprise.
Janine was her secret, her creation, almost. Will was her
secret, her tiger in the loft. That one of them should spy
her with the other both frightened and exhilarated her.
She clasped Janine's bottom between her two hands and
sucked the girl to climax, almost hoping Will was watching.
Only then did she rise from the bed to start the new day.
In the bath she pondered the problem of Will's new
identity. It was a shame that it should be such an
expensive business. It wasn't that she couldn't afford to
provide the funding. The problem was to provide so large
an amount and then cover her tracks. There was no way
she could imagine explaining to Rollo why she should
find it necessary to give a criminal a large sum of money
in order to lead a new life. She had just spent a consider-
able time arousing her husband and she didn't mean to
lose him as things got really interesting between them
again. Rollo on sexual form was unbeatable. She aimed
to keep him that way.
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Moreover, Rollo was not stupid. He knew she had pulled
an insurance scam and he knew how she had done it, more
or less, although he knew nothing of Jamie's part in it, in
her, for example. He had never closely questioned her as
to how she had succeeded in making the police believe
her. But if his mind started to run along the lines of where
she got her circumstantial detail, accurate enough to fool
the police, from, he would not be satisfied with the only
safe answer she had come up with so far. She could claim
she had used the Screen romantic drama as the basis for
her descriptions of the pirates, but anyone intelligent knew
that the real thing and the swashbuckling melodramatic
adventurers portrayed on the Screen were worlds apart.
It simply wasn't a credible explanation. So she had to keep
his mind from even beginning to go over her story.
It would be easier to make up a lie about what the money
was for than to cover up its transferral. The trouble with
automated credit transfer was the record. Everything was
detailed in black and white at the end of the day. The
cashless society such as she and Rollo inhabited had its
disadvantages if you wanted to play at something crimi-
nal. She might be a smart-arse computer expert but she
did not have the financial wizardry that she now required.
She was being massaged after her bath when a far more
satisfactory solution to the problem occurred to her. It
contained a delicious hint of danger that brought a sparkle
to her cheeks.
Inadvertently she clenched her buttocks sharply.
'I'm sorry,' said Janine. 'Did I hurt you?'
'No,' said Fiona.
'Are you sure?' whispered Janine naughtily. Her fingers
slid within Fiona's legs and she giggled.
'Hey, hey,' protested Fee. 'You don't feel sucky again,
do you?'
'I could do,' said Janine slyly.
'Could do what?' said Rollo. He must have come out
from his work station. He was leaning against the bath-
room doorframe, his piercing blue eyes considering the
two women he was screwing, the one massaging the other.
258

'Oh, Mrs Cambridge,' said Janine in pretty confusion.
She blushed and dropped her eyes.
'She could do my front now,' said Fiona in a deep voice.
She rolled over. She was quite naked. 'Come on, Janine. I
have work to do today and I am stiff, for some reason.'
Rollo continued to stand where he was, his arms folded,
watching the maid massage his wife's nude body. He had
taken both of them sexually over the previous evening and
night and he assumed that neither of them knew about
his copulation with the other. He rather enjoyed watching
Janine handle Fee. He was visited by the idea that he
would like to come round the back of Janine as she worked
and slip down her breeks and enter her from the rear. Then
he could gently pump away at her whilst he watched her
hands feel all over his wife's body.
'I'm sore between my thighs, Janine,' said Fiona. 'Do
what you can.' She opened her long legs and Janine slipped
her hands between them and worked there, grazing Fee's
vulva with her knuckles.
'Rollo,' said Fee. 'Why am I so sore? Perhaps I'm getting
old, hey?'
Rollo strolled over and looked down at her. He could
see the wetly gleaming fissure of her sex right by Janine's
hands. Her large breasts fell one to each side of her body
and moved slightly as Janine dug into the knotted muscles
of her thighs.
'I'm older than you, sweetie,' he drawled. 'Perhaps
Janine wouldn't mind massaging me sometime.'
Janine turned scarlet.
'It's up to her,' said Fiona. Her eyes were almost closed
but Rollo knew she was watching him. 'It's outside her
maiding duties to me, though. If she takes you on, I think
she should be paid more. She might not want to, anyway.'
'I wouldn't mind,' squeaked Janine breathlessly. 'You
pay me very generously already, Mrs Cambridge. I would
be happy to oblige Mr Cambridge if he thinks I am good
enough.'
'Watching you with my wife, I am sure you are good
enough,' said Rollo. He bent over Fiona and very deliber-
259

ately kissed each of her breasts in turn, taking his time and
making it an explicitly sexual gesture. As he did so, his
hand came round and ran up the inside of Janine's thigh.
Janine squeaked and her hands bumped Fiona's clitoris.
Fee purred.
That afternoon she sent Janine out on some trifling errand
and then ascended the stairs to the attic.
He was on his back, hands folded behind his head,
apparently half-asleep.
She came across the ill-lit space conscious of his eyes.
'You whore,' he said. 'Come here.'
'You were looking?'
'You bet I was looking. Not with my bad eye, either.'
'A voyeur as well as a pirate.'
'You ought to be grateful you are worth looking at. I'll
say this for that smooth tight-arse you are married to. He
doesn't miss a trick.'
'Don't call him that all the time. Rollo has always
exploited all his assets.'
'Come and be exploited some more.'
'I don't know I can keep it up at this rate.'
'I didn't ask how you felt about it. It's how I feel I'm
thinking of.'
'Lay your pole bare, pirate. I'll tell you what I've been
thinking of whilst I sit astride you.'
It was good to feel him in her, pushing up so hard it was
an effort to keep right down on him. She knew her
gluttony could not last but Will would have to leave soon
and this craziness would be over. Meanwhile she was
determined to have the stamina to enjoy it. It was a unique
situation, after all.
'Listen,' she said. By way of response he flexed his prick
inside her, making her wriggle with pleasure. 'Concen-
trate,' she protested. But she laughed at what he did to her
and ran her fingers through the hairy mat on his chest and
laid her hands on his tattooed shoulders.
'I don't want to do this thing about the papers,' she said.
'I don't want to lay out all that money.'
260

He went still under her. Then he began to move again.
'Congratulations/ he drawled, thrusting gently up. 'It's
not many women who would choose a moment like this
to tell a guy how little he is worth.'
Fee rode up and down a couple of times. 'A beautiful
cock/ she misquoted. 'It's price is far above rubies.'
'You don't think.'
'Hear me out before you judge me, pirate. I have another
idea. I have this little company. It's nothing, really. Keep
moving, damn you. It's just in place should I ever want
to capitalise on the software I created for TransFlow. Come
on, can't you think and screw at the same time?'
'Is there any angle you rich bastards don't cover?'
'Sure. The ones we don't think of in time. Don't you
knock it. My foresight could prove very useful to you.
This apartment is fully extended with Rollo's work sta-
tion. We couldn't site a new company here even if we
wanted to.'
'I'm so sorry/ said Will, doing something that made Fee
groan with pleasure.
She wriggled again, savouring his knotty fatness and her
muscle-extended fullness. She could get to like living like
this, she thought dazedly.
'So I have this little suite of offices in the shopping and
business complex. Nothing much. A few rooms with
on-screen facilities and storage and basic communica-
tions.'
'So?'
'You could hang out there and get out of my loft and let
my husband synch with me without me being spied on.'
'I bet you liked knowing I was staring at you whilst he
whipped your pretty little pussy.'
She grinned naughtily and squeezed down on him.
'If I DNA record you to use the offices and the company
credit, no one will know you don't have documentation.
You could lead a normal life, almost. You could spend
money.'
'Access your company accounts? You're not being en-
tirely close-fisted over credit, then.'
261

'I wouldn't let you have an overdrawing facility. You
would only be able to spend what I put in.'
'You don't trust me, huh?'
Fee bent over him and kissed his lips, tasting his fiery
mouth. Her breasts swung under her, pointed and heavy,
the nipples brushing through the hair on his broad chest.
'My dear,' she whispered. 'You are a thief by trade. It's
no part of my plan to make you change your spots,
leopard-lover. On the contrary.'
'What then?'
Fiona rode up and down on him some more. Somewhere
far off her climax was starting to gather. 'The Central
Computer,' she said. 'The one that stores all societal data.'
'Yeah?'
'Hack it, sweetie. Change the record.'
He laughed aloud. 'I can't do that.'
'Why not?'
'It'll need time and skill and powerful facilities.'
'You have all three. I'm giving you the time and the
facilities with my company equipment. I'll up its power if
it is insufficient. You have the skill yourself.'
He lay idly beneath her, thinking, whilst she pulled
slowly up and down in long movements on his prick. Her
crotch had the velvet of bloodstock with the kick of a mule.
For Fee, this long slow union whilst they planned a major
crime added a new and pleasant dimension to sex.
'My DNA,' he said softly. 'It's on record. I could maybe
use it to access your company doorlock, but never to enter
an account. They'll be scanning for it everywhere. They
know I am cut off from funding. All institutions will have
me on a blacklist. It's routine.'
'We can't alter your genetic code,' said Fiona. 'Can we?'
'We could polarise it,' said Will suddenly. His muscle
went slack in her as he thought furiously and Fee cried
out indignantly. He laughed and hardened up.
'It's a sensational cock, pirate,' she said. 'I have to save
it-'
'It can't be bought.'
'I own enough things already. It's the use of it I need.'
262

'I was working on polarisation four years ago when I
took Chain out and we went to the city. We were using
X-rays to generate the code. So far it's not been necessary
in the marketplace because unpolarised genetic coding is
so complicated anyway. Fiddling with the amplitudes
wasn't necessary. But if I can polarise my own code and
create a device to exhibit it that fits over my finger, and
we register that polarised code with the banking facility
your company uses, then I can make daily use of a unique
living code I carry about with me but it won't match that
of Henson Carne, escaped criminal. Until the police catch
on and start keeping more complete records, of course.'
He laughed softly. 'Only one step ahead maybe, but one
step can be enough.'
Fee leant over him and bit his ears. She felt creamy
smooth inside. He was so big in her. Her orgasm was
gathering speed and momentum now.
'Can you make such a device?' she whispered. 'It would
have to be practically invisible.'
'I'll need a shopping list. I think the answer is yes.'
The firebolt struck, and as their planning climaxed, so
did their joined bodies.
Before Janine got back. Will emerged from the loft and
bathed and dressed in Rollo's clothes. Rollo was in and
working but Fiona rather enjoyed the danger, as she had
enjoyed it by having Janine act sexy with her in Rollo's
presence in her bathroom that morning. She cut Will's hair
and removed his earrings and then she took him out. They
rode the walkways quite openly, convinced that the police
would not continue to check the Zoo. The simple changes
they had made to Will's appearance would fool the optical
scanning devices, the video cameras that monitored the
Zoo public areas. Faces were at once too vague and too
complex to process with digital precision and facial recog-
nition by machine had proved as faulty as its counterpart
by human agency.
They went to a restaurant and then shopped for personal
clothes and equipment. Fee took him to her offices and
showed him round. He would be a prisoner until he had
263

perfected his device. She arranged for food to come in
every day in the meantime. Then it was time to go.
'I'll vidi you to see how you get on, huh?' she said.
'Sure.'
'You can make your own future if you are clever
enough,' she added slyly.
'And if I'm not?'
'Zoo folk are notoriously ruthless. Sink or swim, Will
Kid. You aren't a pirate for nothing.'
'You don't want me straight, do you?'
'I guess I'm kinky about criminals. But be careful with
my company. Don't foul the nest.'
'You like wickedness for its own sake.'
'I'm not admitting that.'
'That doesn't make it untrue.'
They kissed lingeringly and she headed for the door. As
Will saw her go across the carpet, her high tight arse jutting
out from under her clothes, her high heels making her legs
look slim and slinky, and the arrogant line of her shoulders
where she threw them back to counterbalance her deep
heavy breasts that hung with captivating pendulous grace
on her slim body, he felt lust rise savagely in him once
more. This was a tame way to let her go, like he was some
rich woman's pet or something. He remembered seeing
her playing with her maid in bed that morning. He had
not mentioned it and he was still in shock at both her
versatility and her appetite. She was a woman who would
continue to amaze him, he knew.
Will shot across the room and grabbed her. Fiona
squealed but that only served to arouse him more. He
manhandled her roughly so that she dropped her bag. He
forced her against the desk and pushed her face down so
that keyboards scattered. With his other hand he wrenched
up her skirt and tore her knickers off. He freed his
manhood and shoved hard at her.
Fee wriggled impotently and shouted but her voice was
muffled by the desk and drowned in her own hair. Will
forced his cock at her arse. She felt her tightness yield
before his onslaught and he got into her tight hard passage.
264

He gave her no quarter, keeping her forced down over the
desk as he rogered her. He saw the skin flush across her
buttocks and knew that despite her outrage she could not
help responding. She was all woman. She enjoyed a man
too much. For that matter, she enjoyed sex so much in any
way it came, that unless it was positively life-threatening,
she revelled in it.
Will thrust till he was spent. Then he jerked his cock out
and put it away. As he released Fee she spun round and
tried to slap him. He caught her upraised wrist and
crushed her to his chest, kissing her fiercely.
'I'm a thief, remember?' he said when their mouths
parted.
'I could kill you,' she snarled.
'Yes,' he said. He believed her.
'What if I told the police?' she half sobbed.
'I'd go back to jail. But it was one hell of a fuck.'
She half laughed now. 'You bastard. You can't go around
raping women.'
'I don't,' he said.
'You do it to me.'
'To you yes. That's how we are, Skelton. No one else is
like you for me. Or ever could be.'
He let her go. She was still mad at him but he knew she
would be back.
That's how it was with them.
Fiona spent a few days after this catching up on sleep and
business affairs and clearing the loft of all evidence of
occupancy. She met with Diana and led a normal life,
except in so far as she made love with her maid as well
as her husband at different times. Janine was better and
better. Fiona had some more long conversations with the
girl. She knew Rollo was now inside her on a regular basis,
but since he was giving plenty to his wife as well, she had
no complaints. Always she made Janine give a blow-by-
blow account of what Rollo did with her and during these
auto-voyeuristic episodes she would suck or paddle Janine
to climax. Janine adored talking about what Rollo did to
265

her whilst his wife had her tongue where his cock had
been.
Then her plans came to their full fruition.
Rollo put his arms around her in bed one night without
having taken his pill. His fingers went intimately into her
whilst his mouth fed with hers. For a while they lovered
each other up in this fashion, then Rollo moved down in
the bed and began to burrow into her, one of her legs up
over his shoulder.
He had his back to the bedroom door. He was holding
Fiona open with his fingers and licking her vulva with
long strong licks when Janine stole into the room. He
jumped hideously when Janine's hand caught his swinging
erection and began to frig him.
He turned like a snake but Janine was faster. Without
letting go of his cock, she got between him and Fiona on
the bed and put her mouth where his had been, on Fiona's
naked aroused flesh. Fiona moaned with pleasure as the
girl nibbled and licked where her husband had been.
Janine was naked. Rollo held still, his mind racing. His
prick softened and hardened again in Janine's grasp. What
he was seeing was something he had fantasised about since
the episode where he had witnessed Janine massaging Fee.
His fantasy had had none of the colour and the excitement
of the real thing. He could hardly comprehend it. Fee was
writhing and moaning with the girl up between her legs,
mouth at her sex. And he was there, watching, Janine's
hand holding him.
Suddenly Janine released Fee's vulva and Rollo and Fee
met each other's eyes. He looked almost helpless. Fee rose
up and she and Janine came either side of him. In concert
they began to kiss and caress him, their four hands
weaving an erotic web over his body so that he could
hardly have told who caressed his throat, his balls, his
backside and his hair. There were two hands on his prick
and they didn't belong to the same woman.
Rollo fell back on the bed and gave himself up to their
voluptuous demands. Either side of him, each sucked a
266

nipple on his gleaming chest with one hand in his groin,
stroking, teasing, hotting, cradling and arousing him to
undreamt-of heights.
Janine got astride the man, eyes meeting Fee's and
dancing wickedly. Fee was grinning. Her hands went in
under Janine and she guided the girl's pussy to centre over
Rollo's prick, holding the muscle as Janine lowered herself
to help drive it within her opening rose of sex.
Janine began to ride up and down on her master.
Fee got astride Rollo also, astride his face with her back
to Janine in a crazy train of sex. He found her fecund wet
luxuriant silken cavern just above his panting mouth. His
tongue sneaked out and he began to suck her.
Janine put her hands around her mistress and caught her
breasts, caressing them avidly. Rollo saw and was unable
to control himself. He spunked up into Janine, yelling with
pleasure.
The two women fell off him and crowded together over
his groin to lick him clean. Now they let him see that not
only did their two tongues tangle over his manhood, but
that they kissed each other over and around his cock.
Then they lay back side by side, provocatively, wanting
him to inspect them together as they loved to be.
Rollo saw his wife, a long pale shaft of exotic sophisti-
cation and maturity, full breasts elegantly heavy with
experience, the large plum-coloured nipples tilting out-
wards in graceful carnal beauty.
Janine was warm, her almost butter-coloured, creamy
skin-tones a contrast to Fiona's magnolia porcelain flesh.
Janine was dusted with freckles across her young breasts
and they were tipped pale chestnut red. Her wheaten hair
mingled with Fiona's raven locks.
She was shorter than Fiona but side by side Rollo could
see Fee's naked bulge of satin-smooth depilated mound,
and Janine's pale golden silky tangle of curls. Fiona was
utterly smooth, but Janine was lightly furred all over
with fine, short red-gold hairs that blurred her image
and kept the sweetness of her youth even in her new
maturity.
267

Rollo was enraptured, as Fee had intended him to be.
He watched as they turned their faces together and kissed
each other fully on the lips, a deep succulent kiss of desire
and for the other. His cock rose and he possessed his wife.
He i ode her slowly, his first flash of lust satisfied. As he
went smoothly in and out of her, Fee kept her face turned
to Janine and they continued to kiss each other. Then
Janine broke from Fee and came astride her mouth, facing
Rollo over her body. Rollo saw Fee suck Janine's sex, filling
her mouth from Janine's pussy with his spunk even as he
prepared to fill her other end with the same thing.
Janine kissed him, holding him lightly on his hips,
leaning towards him over Fee so that her breasts brushed
his chest. He slid one hand down between mouth and labia
so that he could feel Janine's pussy and Fee's lips and
tongue whilst his cock came to climax within Fee's body
and Janine kissed him passionately on the lips.
They released him and she smiled at him.
'You've taken me, both of you, you greedy witches,' he
said, his voice a little hoarse and his eyes glittering fiercely.
'Now you have only each other to play with. I'm done for
tonight.'
Fee looked at Janine and the girl looked slyly back at
Fee.
'I don't believe that's true, Mrs Cambridge,' she said.
'Nor do 1/ said Fee huskily. 'Let's prove him wrong,
darling.'
They began with each other. Whilst he rested they
enjoyed each other, lazily kissing and sucking breasts and
sampling each other's fine salty spunky bodies.
They turned top to tail. They began to caress each other's
parts and Rollo's eyes darkened as he watched. He could
see Fiona's long dark wet crimson slit, a purplish fissure
breaking the smoothness of her pale flesh. Janine teased
her way expertly through the lovely convolutions of flesh
until she was centred on Fee's clitoris, languorously
playing with the tiny female shaft.
He could also see Janine's paler, tighter, neater sex. Fee
picked it apart with her fingers and began to blow into
268

the narrow passageway, then dipping her tongue in with
its wicked pointed tip and tickling the inside.
When she released it, the newly opened channel closed
and clung to itself as if still shy after its violent initiation
into sexual activity. Rollo felt proprietorial about Janine's
pussy. He had opened it first to the world of loving. He
held the patent on her sex.
Fiona could hold her own dark flesh apart using muscles
long-skilled in the arts of love, for she was self-trained to
extract maximum pleasure from her body whilst she gave
her man maximum pleasure in coition. Janine would learn
but meantime she was naturally tight. She could expand
to take Rollo, she could distend about his full mature
erection, but he was still a voyager there, an explorer,
though there was no glory, no renown in his achievement.
Fiona was known territory, much used but delicious to
penetrate afresh and strangely different lately. She
deserved better than she had had recently, Rollo thought.
He had not given her what she needed.
He saw the two vaginas he had had that night and felt
his cock prickle and his balls begin to swell.
He reached forward and inserted fingers from each hand
into each woman. He knew he need feel no compunction
about interfering between them. He knew they were here
to pleasure him for the night and he might do as he
pleased. They would be compliant to his will. His cock
hardened slightly. Fiona gripped his fingers within herself
and laughed. Janine's spongy walls pressed tightly against
the invading digits.
Fee nodded to Janine and they both turned to Rollo
again. Once more he was stroked and kissed in a maze of
teasing delight, dark hair mingled with fair, their tangled
limbs weaving between his. They adored him with their
bodies, ravishing his senses with breast and lips and hands
and vulva.
Fee fed a nipple into his mouth and Janine came beside
her and did likewise so that he could suck the both of them
simultaneously. They bent over him and tongued his ears,
exploring his whorls of sensitive skin, kissing him as they
269

threaded his hair with their fingers and massaged his scalp.
Fee pressed her open mouth upon his and then Janine
pressed hers so that he could taste them one after the other.
Then they pressed their mouths to each other above him
so that he could put his hands into their four breasts as
they were crushed nipple to nipple over his face.
Fiona looked down on her golden husband and took his
cock in her mouth. She thought she had never loved him
so much. Skilfully she licked him to life. Janine climbed
astride Rollo and bent forward, putting her face to Fiona's
out-stretched rear. She ignored the lovely dark wet slit,
almost dripping its musky fragrance on to the man they
worshipped below, and instead she applied her fingers
and then her mouth to Fiona's rear entrance. Fiona felt
Janine's lips over her arse, and at the same time Rollo's
cock jumped within her mouth as he saw what was
happening.
Fee had planned this scene from the start. The wicked-
ness of her scheme was surpassed only by its success.
Janine took spunk from her own fanny and used it to
lubricate Fiona's rear. Her tongue darted at the sealed
entrance and she tried to penetrate its forbidden mysteries.
Just above Rollo's face was her musky bush. He could
see every move of her lizard tongue as it tried to bugger
Fiona. He came to full erection in Fiona's mouth.
Janine abandoned Fee's rear and moved down the bed.
The two heads, one dark, one fair, bent over the erect prick
and between them they played at sucking it together and
in turned. Rollo was presented with their two upraised
bottoms side by side. He was entranced with pleasure. He
reached out and stroked their lovely flesh, their long soft
rounded female haunches, and felt them quiver in response
under his hands.
Janine rolled round and laid Rollo's fat prick along her
pink and swollen vulva, so that his muscle nestled in her
sexual organ surrounded by her curls. Fiona kept working
with her mouth only now she licked from cock to vulva
and back again, tasting his gland as it lay snug within
Janine's labia. The maid was up on her elbows, watching,
270

and now two sets of hands cradled his balls and tickled
him exquisitely.
'I'm going to come/ groaned Rollo. He couldn't hang on
and he couldn't bear it to stop.
Fee smiled at Janine and they both turned wicked
grinning faces to the man.
'Where would you like to come?' enquired Fee politely
in her cool husky voice.
'Come here/ pleaded Janine prettily. She fingered her
own sweet pussy.
'Be milked by me/ said Fee and her eyes were heavy-
lidded as she smiled.
'Come in my mouth if you like/ said Janine eagerly.
Throughout this carnal glut she seemed able to retain an
enchanting air of innocence and naivety quite at odds with
her knowing and sexually wise behaviour. She was like a
wicked nun. Innocence is such a sweet bedfellow to
corruption.
'Or my mouth/ said Fee, baring her teeth.
Rollo's throat was dry. He did not normally have trouble
taking decisions. This was outside his previous experience.
'I have another orifice, especially tight/ drawled Fiona.
'Don't do that with me/ begged Janine, simulating alarm.
'Unless you really want to.' Her face softened and grew
sinfully happy again. 'I'd like to watch you do it to Mrs
Cambridge, though.'
Rollo broke into a sweat. 'You bitches/ he said faintly.
They leapt off the bed and with surprising strength
hauled him into the bathroom. They showered him and
themselves with cold water, yelling and fighting like
puppies under the spay of water.
'Now/ said Fiona cheerfully, 'let's have something to eat
and the champagne I put on ice earlier. Rollo, we'll let you
get away with just one more climax tonight. Don't worry.
We can bring you back to where you were. We are just
keeping your strength up, darling.'
Rollo's eyes flashed blue fire. 'I never said I was worried/
he said.
Janine went for the food whilst Fiona stripped the bed
271

and put fresh clean sheets on it in place of the tangled
musky mess they had made. Janine came back with trays
laden with lobster claws, salty shrimps, cherries, grapes,
durian, nectarine and a magnum of champagne fat as a
swollen erection in its bed of ice. Fiona slit the rind of a
durian and broke out the luscious civet-smelling cream-
coloured pulp. She smeared it on her vulva and laughed.
They sat cross-legged and attacked the food greedily.
Fiona could slot shrimps inside her and eject them on
muscle power alone, into Rollo's open eager mouth. He
lay on his back and felt Janine's breast rub his shoulder
whilst she fed him grapes and cherries.
Each of the women raised herself on her shoulders and
let Rollo fill their cup of sex with champagne and he drank
from them like this, one after the other.
They cleared the food away and faced him, two cats with
their prey. But Rollo was no mouse.
'Turn over,' he ordered Fiona. She did so. 'Put up your
rear,' he said and she obeyed him.
'Janine,' he said.
'Yes, Mr Cambridge.'
'Lick my wife's arse.'
Janine caught her hair back out of the way and lowered
her head. She began to lick tenderly at Fiona's crimped
flesh. It moved slightly under her tongue.
Rollo licked his finger and moved Janine off. He began
to push his finger into Fiona. Now Janine could see the
valve flexing hard as Fiona tried to repel the invader but
was unable. Rollo forced his finger in.
Fiona quivered, her buttocks taut and strained. Janine
reached up and began to stroke them, to ease their tension.
Fee remembered Will's cock in her behind and almost
came. Rollo drove his finger further in and brought his
thumb under Fee and began to caress her clitoris with it.
He sank his finger within her to the hilt and her sundered
flesh convulsed around the invader. Simultaneously he
frotted her clitoris with his thumb.
Rollo began to pump his finger in and out, in and out,
whilst he rotated the pad of his thumb to masturbate Fee's
272

clitoris. Janine abandoned Fee's buttocks and reached
under her to savour the long pointed swinging breasts.
She drew one to one side and put the erect nipple in her
mouth. She began to suck with long steady sucks.
Fiona heaved and began to perspire. She was moaning
with ascending pleasure now. Rollo took her backside
faster and faster with his finger.
She jerked violently and cried out and then slowly she
sagged down, the rigidity gradually leaving her body.
'Janine,'said Rollo. 'Feel her.'
Janine put her fingers into Fiona's pussy and found it
richly wet.
'Now,' said Rollo. 'I am going to fuck you, Janine, whilst
Fee extracts her revenge. You understand?'
'Yes, Mr Cambridge.'
'Lie back and open your legs.'
Janine did this but Fiona raised herself and put a hand
over Janine's sex.
'I discovered this,' she said. 'You don't own the rights
even if you had first ingress.'
The two of them faced each other over Janine's slack body.
'You women might play together,' said Rollo insultingly,
'and I admit it has pleased me to watch you. I trust there'll
be other times.'
'If Janine consents,' said Fiona.
'But I am the man around here. If you want my cock in
you, you do as I say.'
'There are other men,' Fiona's chin came up in defiance.
'I'm the man for you.' Rollo's voice was low and
diamond hard. 'You know it and I know it. For your
damned impudence I'm going to warm my cock in you
before I put it into Janine. Lie down and shut up. You are
too juicy to waste in argument. You know you want what
I am going to give you.'
Fiona laughed and lay back. She grabbed at Janine before
Rollo could move and pulled the girl on top of her, as if
she was a mattress to support Janine. Her arms came round
the giggling girl and held her steady.
Rollo looked down at the two vaginas sandwich-style,
273

one on top of the other. He gave a deep happy sigh and
looked down at his own rigid sex. He came forward
between the double set of legs and slid his shaft slickly
into Fiona's foamy gape. Lusciously she drew him and he
felt dizzy as her hot inner velvet lapped him, lapped his
prick on every side, squeezing and pressing his member
till it felt ripe and rich.
He pumped very slowly for a few moments, just to
savour her, both bodies moving as he worked. Very slowly
he withdrew his prick, watching its glistening length come
from the clasp of Fiona's lips. There was an audible
sucking noise as his gland popped out. His eyes raised to
Janine's sex just above, paler and drier. Without using his
hands at all he took his prick from one and slid it into
another. As he pressed deep into the tightness of Janine's
elastic clinging passage, she sighed with pleasure to feel
herself distend to absorb his mighty muscle. Her young
flesh adored him. Her rounded body wobbled slightly as
he began to move slowly in and out of her. She flushed
with sexual heat as she came to full arousal.
He was content for a while to move in and out with deep
slow regular strokes. Each inward thrust required firm
action. She lubricated until she was wetly tight, a slimy
tight cushion for his member.
They were interrupted briefly as Fiona wriggled free. She
came round behind him and stroked his hairy swinging
balls. She looked over the food tray and found a pot of
thick mayonnaise, scooped up a good-sized globule, and
then as Rollo came back on one of his long dreamy strokes,
she greased his rear and allowed her finger to slip within
his orifice.
He grunted and plunged into Janine. As he came back,
she impaled him on her finger, letting it sink right in. He
came off her and went down into Janine. But as he pulled
back his rear was again invaded by her greasy finger
sinking deep within it.
Rollo's rhythm began to change. He began to swoop
down into Janine's pussy with powerful urgent strokes,
and as he thundered into her, she writhed with delight.
274

Fee could feel the base of his shaft as he pulled back from
Janine, hot and sticky wet. He was almost there.
Janine cried out and began to shudder violently as she
orgasmed. Fee kept time with Rollo's huge plunges,
penetrating his arse more gently but still as persistently.
She ducked her head down and kissed his balls as they
swung.
His back arched and he cried out. He exploded into
Janine. His long beautiful shaft rippled its release of
pent-up foam. He creamed richly into the girl, spurting all
around her as he emptied himself for the final time,
emptying himself absolutely into her fresh eager rosebud
sex.
Fiona eased her fingers free and he fell over sideways
and lay on the bed. Janine's eyes were huge, love-drugged
and slumbrous with satisfaction. Fiona, his dangerous
half-tame alley-cat wife, narrowed her glacier-green eyes
and smiled with deep pleasure. Her heavy hanging breasts
seemed full, her slim powerful body at last satisfied.
Fee laid herself down so that Rollo was between his two
women, caught in their sensual web, their warmth press-
ing him from both sides. His skin savoured the luxury of
ripe womanhood as they pressed belly and thigh and
breast against him. He was caressed by their fecund
generosity, by their adulation of him, by their exploitation
of him.
'May I stay, please?' asked Janine.
'Stay,' said Rollo, his voice full of tiredness as he edged
closer to sleep.
'And welcome,' said Fiona in her deep rich voice.
For a few minutes Fiona held sleep at bay. She was
creamy with satisfaction.
Rollo was a wonderful vigorous inventive lover again,
powerful and commanding as she loved him to be.
Janine was adorable. She would tire of them but they
would not stop her when she wanted to move on.
If Rollo ever slackened again and she failed to arouse
him as was her duty, there was extraordinary pleasure to
be bought. She would never quite forget Clive's startling
275

personal equipment and his impressive professional pro-
wess.
She would not tangle with Jamie again, but he was a
sweet memory. She must not misjudge people again as she
had done with him.
Out there somewhere, wicked all through, dangerous,
deviant, fearless and charismatic, was her pirate lover,
flesh of her flesh, bone of her bone whether they liked it
or not. They were two of a kind, she and Will Kid, and
they were not done with each other yet. Not by a long
way.
Janine was warm and soft. Rollo was cool and firm. Fee
laughed as she tumbled into sleep.
Life was good if you were wicked enough to take what
it offered. That was what she had found.
But then, she had always been wicked.
276

Already published
NO LADY
Saskia Hope
30 year-old Kate dumps her boyfriend, walks out of her job
and sets off in search of sexual adventure. Set against the
rugged terrain of the Pyrenees, the love-making is as rough as
the landscape. Only a sense of danger can satisfy her longing
for erotic encounters beyond the boundaries of ordinary
experience.
ISBN 0 352 32857 6
WEB OF DESIRE
Sophie Danson
High-flying executive Marcie is gradually drawn away from
the normality of her married life. Strange messages begin to
appear on her computer, summoning her to sinister and
fetishistic sexual liaisons with strangers whose identity
remains secret. She's given glimpses of the world of The
Omega Network, where her every desire is known and
fulfilled.
ISBN 0 352 32856 8
BLUE HOTEL
Cherri Pickford
Hotelier Ramon can't understand why best-selling author Floy
Pennington has come to stay at his quiet hotel in the rural
idyll of the English countryside. Her exhibitionist tendencies
are driving him crazy, as are her increasingly wanton encoun-
ters with the hotel's other guests.
ISBN 0 352 32858 4

CASSANDRA'S CONFLICT
Fredrica Alleyn
Behind the respectable facade of a house in present-day
Hampstead lies a world of decadent indulgence and darkly
bizarre eroticism. The sternly attractive Baron and his beauti-
ful but cruel wife are playing games with the young Cassan-
dra, employed as a nanny in their sumptuous household.
Games where only the Baron knows the rules, and where
there can only be one winner.
ISBN 0 352 32859 2
THE CAPTIVE FLESH
Cleo Cordell
Marietta and Claudine, French aristocrats saved from pirates,
learn their invitation to stay at the opulent Algerian mansion
of their rescuer, Kasim, requires something in return; their
complete surrender to the ecstasy of pleasure in pain. Kasim's
decadent orgies also require the services of the handsome
blonde slave, Gabriel - perfect in his male beauty. Together in
their slavery, they savour delights at the depths of shame.
ISBN 0 352 32872 X
PLEASURE HUNT
Sophie Danson
Sexual adventurer Olympia Deschamps is determined to
become a member of the Legion D' Amour - the most
exclusive society of French libertines who pride themselves on
their capacity for limitless erotic pleasure. Set in Paris -
Europe's most romantic city - Olympia's sense of unbridled
hedonism finds release in an extraordinary variety of libidi-
nous challenges.
ISBN 0 352 32880 0

WE NEED YOUR HELP . . .
to plan the future of women's erotic fiction -
- and no stamp required!
Yours are the only opinions that matter.
Black Lace is a new and exciting venture: the first series
of books devoted to erotic fiction by women for women.
We're going to do our best to provide the brightest,
best-written, bonk-filled books you can buy. And we'd
like your help in these early stages. Tell us what you
want to read.
THE BLACK LACE QUESTIONNAIRE
SECTION ONE: ABOUT YOU
1.1 Sex (we presume you are female, but so as not to discriminate)
are you?
Male	□	Female	□
1.2		Age
under 21	□	21-30	□
31-40	□	41-50	□
51-60	□	over 60	□
1.3		At what age did you leave	full-time education?
still in education	□	16 or younger	□
17-19	□	20 or older	□
1.4 Occupation

1.5		Annual household income
under £10,000	□	£10-£20,000	□
£20-£30,000	□	£30-£40,000	□
over £40,000	□
1.6		We are perfectly happy for you to remain anonymous;
but if you would like us to send you a free booklist of
Nexus books for men and Black Lace books for Women,
please insert your name and address
SECTION TWO: ABOUT BUYING BLACK LACE BOOKS
2.1		How did you acquire this copy of Odalisque
I bought it myself □ My partner bought it □
I borrowed/found it □
2.2		How did you find out about Black Lace books?
I saw them in a shop	□
I saw them advertised in a magazine	□
I saw the London Underground posters	□
I read about them in	
Other	
2.3		Please tick the following statements you agree with:
I would be less embarrassed about buying Black
Lace books if the cover pictures were less explicit □
I think that in general the pictures on Black
Lace books are about right	□
I think Black Lace cover pictures should be as
explicit as possible	□
2.4		Would you read a Black Lace book in a public place - on
a train for instance?
Yes	□ No	□

SECTION THREE: ABOUT THIS BLACK LACE BOOK
3.1		Do you think the sex content in this book is:
Too much	□ About right	□
Not enough	□
3.2		Do you think the writing style in this book is:
Too unreal/escapist □ About right	□
Too down to earth □
3.3		Do you think the story in this book is:
Too complicated □ About right	□
Too boring/simple □
3.4		Do you think the cover of this book is:
Too explicit	□ About right	□
Not explicit enough □
Here's a space for any other comments:
SECTION FOUR: ABOUT OTHER BLACK LACE BOOKS
4.1		How many Black Lace books have you read?	□
4.2		If more than one, which one did you prefer?
4.3 Why?

SECTION FIVE: ABOUT YOUR IDEAL EROTIC NOVEL
We want to publish the books you want to read - so this is
your chance to tell us exactly what your ideal erotic novel
would be like.
5.1 Using a scale of 1 to 5 (1 = no interest at all, 5 = your
ideal), please rate the following possible settings for an
erotic novel:
Medieval/barbarian/sword 'n' sorcery	□
Renaissance/Elizabethan/Restoration	□
Victorian/Edwardian	□
1920s & 1930s - the Jazz Age	□
Present day	□
Future/Science Fiction	□
5.2		Using the same scale of 1 to 5, please rate the following
themes you may find in an erotic novel:
Submissive male/dominant female	□
Submissive female/dominant male	□
Lesbianism	□
Bondage/fetishism	□
Romantic love	□
Experimental sex e.g. anal/watersports/sex toys	□
Gay male sex	□
Group sex	□
Using the same scale of 1 to 5, please rate the following
styles in which an erotic novel could be written:
Realistic, down to earth, set in real life	□
Escapist fantasy, but just about believable	□
Completely unreal, impressionistic, dreamlike	□
5.3		Would you prefer your ideal erotic novel to be written
from the viewpoint of the main male characters or the
main female characters?
Male	□ Female	□
Both	□

5.4 What would your ideal Black Lace heroine be like? Tick
as many as you like:
Dominant	□	Glamorous	□	
Extroverted	□	Contemporary	□	
Independent	□	Bisexual	□	
Adventurous	□	Naive	□	
Intellectual	□	Introverted	□	
Professional	□	Kinky	□	
Submissive	□	Anything else?	□	
Ordinary	□			
5.5 What would your ideal male lead character be like?
Again, tick as many as you like:
Rugged	□			
Athletic	□	Caring	□	
Sophisticated	□	Cruel	□	
Retiring	□	Debonair	□	
Outdoor-type	□	Naive	□	
Executive-type	□	Intellectual	□	
Ordinary	□	Professional	□	
Kinky	□	Romantic	□	
Hunky	□			
Sexually dominant	□	Anything else?	□	
Sexually submissive	□			
5.6 Is there one particular setting or subject matter that your
ideal erotic novel would contain?
SECTION SIX: LAST WORDS
6.1 What do you like best about Black Lace books?
6.2 What do you most dislike about Black Lace books?
6.3 In what way, if any, would you like to change Black
Lace covers?

6.4 Here's a space for any other comments!
Thank you for completing this questionnaire. Now tear it out of the
book - carefully! - put it in an envelope and send it to:
Black Lace
FREEPOST
London
W10 5BR
No stamp is required!