Gloria Day
House of dark pleasure

INTRODUCTION

Little did Doris know when she took the secretarial job offer from Romily Manor, the nature of the duties she was to perform. She hadn't counted on being a paid playmate for Mildred Wynton's twenty-five-year-old retarded son. Her horror deepened even further at the realization that she had to share her voluptuous body with the degenerate doctor and Mrs. Wynton's lascivious chauffeur. Mrs. Wynton was the mistress of the manor in name, but it was Doris' lush young body that held the title!

The needle plunged into Doris' arm again, and she lay very still on the bare mattress, her eyes open but unseeing, and the voices and sounds in the small room were just a garbled cacophony to her drugged ears.

"That'll keep her for four or five hours," said the heavy-set man of medium height and middle years.

He removed the needle from the syringe, replaced them both in a small case and snapped it shut.

"Thank you, Doctor Marston," said the tall, gaunt-faced woman, emphasizing the Doctor because Basil Marston wasn't a doctor any more: not since a zealous medical association had removed his name from its list because of unethical behavior or professional misconduct as they viewed his illegal operations and indiscriminate use of prohibited drugs.

"I don't like it," the ex-doctor muttered now, looking at the young girl on the bed.

A tousled lock of brunette hair had fallen onto her forehead, making Doris Dainton look younger than her twenty-three years. Her big, brown eyes – usually luminous and alert – were dull and listless, and her five-foot-one, one-hundred-pound body slumped, rather than lay, on the bed in the upstairs room in the bleak, rambling mansion in a remote part of Maine.

"You don't have to like it," said Mildred Wynton, coldly. "You just have to do what you're told." She jerked her head toward the door. "We'll go downstairs now." She turned to the fourth occupant of the room, forced a parody of a smile onto her face. "It's all yours, Willis, dear." She moved to the bedroom door, opened it, half-pushed Basil Marston into the corridor, then her smile became a leer as she added to her son: "Enjoy yourself, Willis." Her eyes flickered to the drugged girl again, and she moistened her lips as she finished in a whisper: "If you need me – just call." Then she moved out of the bedroom quickly, clicked shut the door behind her.

"It-it's horrible," muttered Basil as he descended the narrow stairway behind Mildred.

"Don't be ridiculous," she snapped over her shoulder. "It's not horrible at all." She reached the foot of the stairs, moved toward the old-fashioned but well-furnished sitting room. "Just because poor Willis – my son, remember, is somewhat unattractive to girls is no reason why he should be denied the… the normal pleasures of female…" she hesitated, then, "… company."

"Company!" Basil spat out the word, stared at the severe but not unattractive woman of forty-five. "He doesn't want company." He moved to a sideboard, poured whiskey from a decanter than took a big gulp as though he needed it very badly. "That-that freak – he's like a lust-crazed animal. All he wants is…"

"Don't call my son a freak!" Mildred's voice rose quiveringly high with anger. "He-he's just-just a little backward – just a little undeveloped in some ways." She snatched up the decanter, poured herself a generous drink, lifted it to her lips.

Basil watched her, a sardonic expression on his dark, still-handsome face. "In some ways," he repeated, bitterly, "just some ways!" He drained his glass.

Willis Wynton stared at the softly curved, lusciously inviting girl on the bed. An evil smile of anticipation crossed his misshapen face, and he drooled, saliva trickling down to his chin as his eyes drank in the sight of young and helpless female flesh that lay at his mercy.

He had a peculiar build, his legs being too short for his massive, bull-like torso and his arms – as if to make up for the brevity of his legs – were too long, causing his hands to dangle close to his knees.

He swung his hands loosely, now, as he moved toward the girl on the bed. His forehead, covered with a mass of long, black hair that hung down, was too wide – while his chin was too narrow, making the thick, sensuous lips seem out of place. His pointed tongue darted out, slicked at the edges of his mouth as he stared at Doris.

She was wearing a white-nylon blouse and short leather skirt; her feet, shoeless now, and legs, were encased in sheer pantyhose.

Willis reached to the top of her blouse, unbuttoned it, then gripped the thin fabric of her brassiere. He tugged at it gently, then seemed surprised when the flimsy garment ripped off. His eyes squinted as he stared at the twin mounds of soft, fragile flesh – then he slowly stroked Doris' breasts.

A low, guttural sound came from deep in his throat as he caressed the silky smoothness. Then he jerked himself back, grabbed at his crotch as though in pain.

His fingers trembled as he undid the front of his pants, then the huge, swollen organ thrust out and he wrapped his hand around the bulbous head of it, bent himself forward from the waist.

Doris lay unmoving, unseeing, unaware.

Willis stood by the head of the bed, his animal-like penis just inches from the drugged girl's face – then he pushed his pelvis forward, guided his shaft until its slitted ball of lust was touching Doris' cheek. He weaved his organ back and forth on the delicate softness of her cheek.

Low sounds of pleasure came from his throat as he performed his lewdly intimate action, and thin dribbles of moistness slid from the slitted mouth of his penis and oozed over Doris' cheek.

Suddenly, he dropped to his knees beside the bed, pressed his face over the girl's unfeeling body, encircled a small, pointed, pink nipple with his mouth, sucked it with sickening pleasure.

"Oooh, Maaamaa – Maamaaah," he mumbled, sucking and licking with wet, squelching sounds. He drew his head back abruptly, letting the saliva-slicked nipple slide from his lips with a plop. "You're not Mama," he mumbled, sounding more like a child than the twenty-five-year-old man that he was. "You're what-what Mama got for me," an infantile smile spread across his face, "… for me to play with." His hand caressed his penis as he spoke. "Mama said – enjoy yourself." His smile became wider. "I can do what I like – whatever I like." He reached down to the hem of the leather skirt, lifted it. "I-I know what I like to-to do…" he panted.

The pantyhose stretched tightly over Doris' belly and hips, so thin that the dark triangle of her pubic hairs was clearly visible. Willis clawed at it, and a long fingernail ripped at the crotch, tearing through the fragile silk, shredding it open until it was slitted from the waist to where it disappeared between her smoothly fleshed thighs.

Willis' eyes fastened on the thatch of dark foliage, then he touched it, stroked it gently at first, then more roughly.

His penis reared when his hand went lower, probed between the exposed thighs, found vaginal lips that were soft and wet and felt inside them.

"Nice pussy," he drooled, rubbing his finger in Doris' intimate moistness. "Soft, wet pussy!"

He drew back, breathing heavily through his nose. "I-I'm going to do it," he muttered, panting with excitement. "Mama said I can enjoy myself." He began ripping off his clothes with frantic haste, keeping his eyes on the small pink opening between Doris' thighs. "I'm going to push my cock inside your pussy!" He giggled, highly like a girl, then dragged off his remaining clothes.

His chest, belly and legs were covered with thickly matted hairs and below his massive penis, huge balls were encased in tightly stretched flesh.

He cupped his gross testicles, moved to the foot of the bed, stared up into Doris' vulva. "Fuck," he muttered. "I-I'm gonna fuck!"

He stretched out a long arm, gripped one of Doris' feet, moved it toward the side of the bed – then did the same with her other foot.

The silk-encased legs formed a gleaming V to the shredded slit at the crotch. Willis panted as he stared up into the wet pinkness. "Fuck," he mumbled again.

He climbed over the end of the bed, breathing heavily, and crawled between the outstretched legs. His hairy thighs pressed against Doris' soft silkiness. He reached under himself, gripped his throbbing shaft, steered it toward the wet, waiting opening.

His breath panted onto Doris' face as she lay still, as though she were a doll.

The hard, round ball of lust pried at the vaginal lips.

"Small," Willis complained, "so small!" He jerked his body angrily, and Doris' belly quivered under the thrust. The head of his penis probed again at the small, tight vagina – then Willis jerked his shoulders upward. "Let me…" he panted into Doris' face, "… let me do it!" He dragged a hand upward then slapped the drugged girl's face. "You-you gotta…" he moaned in childish rage. "Mama said I could!" He slapped Doris' face again, and her head rolled with the blow. A deep pinkness suffused her cheek where the palm of his hand had hit.

He reached under his body again, with both hands this time; gripped Doris' thighs, spread them apart into an agonizing, strained split. "I wanna fuck…" he half-cried.

His body lurched again – and this time the end of his shaft penetrated the slithery vaginal opening and slid inside.

"Oooheeh – ooheeeh!" Willis shrilled as he felt the soft walls gripping his lurching organ. "Inside – oooheehh – my cock's inside!" He squirmed his whole body with lustful delight.

"Squeeeeze!" he squealed. "Squeeze my cock, nice tight pussy!"

He drove himself inward, causing the stretched vaginal walls to be forced open even more widely. Doris' body jerked upward as he thrust inward. He pressed his face onto Doris', groped for her mouth with his wet, slavering lips – then kissed her with slimy hunger. "I-I don't need Mama to help me," he mumbled when he drew his head back, "I can do it myself all by myself!"

His throbbing organ, swelling and pulsing, thrust inward again – then withdrew, slid in, slipped out. "Oooheeeh," he shrilled, "fuck – fuck – ooheeeh!"

He screwed his organ in and out with ever-increasing strength and speed. Doris' body had become a jerking mass of tortured flesh as his climax began.

"Squirt…" he screamed suddenly, "I'll squirt inside you." He dragged in a gasp of air as his organ contracted, expanded. "Right inside your pussy all so hot so wet…" he babbled as his crest neared. "Aaaargh!" He let out a deep groan then writhed his body wildly. The slitted lips in the rounded head of his organ opened, emitted a scalding spurt of juice, then closed – opened again, spurted again. "Ooooheeeh aaargh! Fuck – fuck your hot pussy!" His voice went high, then racking tremors shook his body as he expended the last squirts of his juice.

The long shaft softened, reduced in size, became limp.

Willis lay on top of Doris, breathing deeply, languorous with satiation. "Nice pussy," he mumbled, licking at Doris' face like a cat. "Nice soft cunt! Hot pussy!" He smiled, idiotically. "Hot an' wet!"

He let his penis slide out of Doris' vulva; then he squirmed himself down to the foot of the bed, stared in between her grotesquely stretched open legs. "White inside…" he mumbled, "… my white stuff all inside!" He smiled, as though he'd performed a clever feat. "Nice fuck – nice pussy fuck!" He stroked the insides of her thighs, then fondled the wet tissue inside the lips of her vagina.

"Again," he said slowly. "Mama said – enjoy yourself – I'm gonna do it again…" He started to stroke his reawakening penis with expectant desire. "Again an' again…" he mumbled, "I can do it again an' again – as many times as I want!"

The shaft was stiffening, so he guided it to the vaginal entrance again. This time it was easier; Doris' vulva was still curled open from the previous onslaught of his huge penis – it slid in smoothly, sensuously, stretching the abused and fragile tissue without effort. Willis grunted in satisfaction.

Downstairs in the sitting room, Basil Marston slammed down his glass. "D'you realize what time it is?" he snapped to Mildred. "He's been up there with that-that poor kid – for four hours!"

She didn't even glance up from the book she was reading.

Basil leaned forward, spoke urgently. "It's midnight." He tapped the face of his watch. "That stuff'll be wearing off!"

Mildred looked up this time. "Oh, Basil – let the poor boy have his fun!"

"Fun!" Basil looked startled then angry. "D'you call raping a young, drugged girl fun?"

Mildred snapped shut her book. "Don't act so Goddamned righteous." She paused, then: "After what I know about you…"

"Don't go into that…" he muttered.

She gave him a cat-like smile. "If I did go into that, there'd be criminal proceedings against you – not just being struck off…"

"I said – don't go into that," said Basil, more loudly. He took a deep breath. "Like I just said – that stuff'll be wearing off."

"What was it anyway?" asked Mildred curiously. "Just what exotic solution did you inject into that girl?"

"Exotic is right," he muttered. "It's some stuff they use in the Far East when someone's in agonizing pain – it dulls everything – deadens the nerves…"

"Some herbal remedy…" Mildred's voice was disdainful.

"Hardly that," Basil said. "It's strong – can be deadly – stuff."

"But it just lasts four or five hours?"

"Depends on the dosage," he murmured. "That's all I gave her." He glanced at his watch again. "By God – isn't that long enough for that damned stud to do his thing."

"Don't call him a stud," said Mildred. "He's just-just a normal, developing male – with normal instincts." She dropped her eyes as she spoke.

"Normal!" Basil gave a mocking laugh, then stopped suddenly. "You'd better go an' drag your normal son off his latest victim!"

Mildred glared at Basil angrily, then got to her feet. "I suppose I'd better go up." She smoothed down her skirt. "Willis'll have to carry her back to her room before she comes to – it wouldn't do to have her come round in the attic!"

"Is that what you got her out here for," asked Basil, "so that your son could rape her, abuse her an' amuse himself with her body?"

"No!" Mildred spoke, emphatically. "I really needed a secretary – that's why I advertised!"

Basil shook his head in anger or despair as Mildred swept from the room.