"House of dark pleasure" - читать интересную книгу автора (Day Gloria)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Doris started to perform her duties at Romily Manor soon after she'd finished her leisurely brunch.

Mrs. Wynton was still in her room, Mabel informed Doris as she served her grilled ham, fried tomatoes and omelet; the low-browed Willis was nowhere to be seen.

Doris was sipping her second cup of coffee when Mildred came into the dining room. "Good morning, Doris," she said quietly, smiling. "I hope you slept well."

Doris looked up at her employer; Mildred was neatly dressed in a country-tweed suit, hair carefully brushed and face lightly made up. It was hard to connect this well-dressed, well-bred woman with the erotically sadistic female who had performed perverse acts upon the hapless bodies of her servants in her bedroom the night before.

"Good morning, Mildred," said Doris. "You look very well, very attractive."

"Thank you," Mildred laughed. "I've been lying in my tub for almost an hour; that always relaxes my body."

Doris smiled; there was no reason to tell Mildred what method she had used to obtain complete relaxation.

"You look as fresh and pretty as ever," Mildred sighed, enviously. "Are you ready to start work this afternoon?"

Doris laughed, finished her coffee. "I think it's about time."

Mildred rang the bell for Mabel, seated herself at the table. "I'll see you in the office at two," she told Doris, picking up her morning mail which Mabel had left on the table.

"And this is a list of the tenants," said Mildred, "with their address and monthly rent."

Doris peered over Mildred's shoulder at the hand-written list of names. "Their houses all have names, not numbers," she murmured.

Mildred laughed. "This is Maine countryside, dear. The houses and cottages are scattered all over – not neatly laid out in streets like in the city."

"How do they pay their rent, by check?"

"Some of them, but others are so old-fashioned that they like to pay in cash."

"Do they come to the manor?" Doris asked.

Mildred shook her head firmly. "Never. We collect from them in person."

"You?" Doris looked at Mildred in surprise; she couldn't imagine this aloof woman knocking at cottage doors and collecting rents.

"Usually," said Mildred, "I used to send Willis sometimes, but…" her eyes became vacant, "the dear boy always seemed to have problems…" she broke off, looked at Doris. "Where is he, by the way?"

"I haven't seen him at all today," said Doris, feeling her face blush as she remembered the sensuous episode in her bedroom the night before.

"Probably walking about the grounds," she sighed. "He loves the outdoors." She looked at the list of names again: "Well, Doris, it'll be your job to collect rents now – that's one of your duties here. Let me see," she scanned the list, "you can walk over to Mister Macallister's this afternoon; he always pays in cash and his rent's due right now."

Doris looked at the address. "Three Hills Cottage," she read. "Where in the world is that?"

Mildred got to her feet, strolled to the window. "Look!" She pointed to the end of the grounds; there was a gap in the line of trees and three small hillocks were visible. "It's on the slope of the middle hillock," Mildred explained. "You can't see it from here; it's a small stone cottage."

"What's he like?"

Mildred looked at Doris. "Barney Macallister?" she laughed. "He's an elderly eccentric – lived at Three Hills for as long as I can remember."

"He lives alone?"

"Mostly," said Mildred, thoughtfully. "He has relatives and friends staying with him from time to time. Well," her tone became brisk, "you can walk over there, Doris; take this small receipt book, collect his rent, in cash, then come back." She smiled. "That'll be your work for today."

Doris smiled at her employer; it didn't sound like a big day's work.

The cottage was a thirty-minute walk from the manor, and Doris was glad that she was wearing low-heeled shoes, even though they looked out of place with her tiny mini-skirt and nylon blouse, which was all she needed on this pleasant, balmy day.

She approached the heavy oaken door, looked vainly for a bellpush, then rapped on the wood.

Instead of the door opening, a voice called out loudly: "Who is it?"

"I-I'm from the manor," Doris called, nervously. "I've come for the rent."

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

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

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

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

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

Doris smiled, flushed at the compliment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Doris felt a crazy blend of fear and fascination.

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

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

"Your granddaughter!" Doris' voice was shocked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Doris felt herself trembling; more with anticipation than fear. The things that had been done to her – that had happened to her – in the last few days were keeping her body in a constant state of sexual arousal. Just the sight of the slim cock waiting to penetrate her pussy was exciting her anew.

"Stand with your legs on either side of me," he instructed, his voice hoarse with excitement. "Then lower your bottom until your cunt's over my cock, and then…" he took a rasping breath, "jam it down all the way down on my cock!"

Doris shivered as she took a jerky step into position; moving awkwardly, with her feet apart, inching herself forward, one leg on either side of his. He moved his hand down, under her crotch, felt at her wet vaginal lips. She jerked, made a low sound and felt the muscles in her thighs aching as she held them in the unnatural position.

"Now, let your cunt slide down!" he panted.

She bent her knees, feeling her legs trembling, lowering herself slowly. He gripped her buttocks, guided her until she was over his cock. Her pussy felt stretched open, her belly stiff and strained as her body went down.

"Aaaaah!" The long sob oozed from his lips as her vaginal lips opened on the head of his cock, let the organ slide inside. "Press down," he groaned.

She relaxed her legs; her cunt slid lower, enveloping the stiff, straight and slim cock completely. "Aaaah, that's good," he sighed. "Now, you'll have to move up and down – I-I can't help you, Doris; you'll have to glide your cunt on and off my cock. Just bend then straighten your legs!"

The breath panted from Doris' lips as she started to do as he asked. It was new and strangely delicious feeling to be able to grip his stiff cock with her pussy, move it as fast or as slowly as she liked. She rotated her bottom gently, squirming her pussy from side to side, letting the slim cock touch all the special spots inside her bubbling cunt. "Ooohh," she groaned, "oh, oohh!"

He lay back in his chair with his eyes closed and a tense, excited expression on his face. He let a smile cross his lips when he heard Doris softly groan. "You like it," he whispered. "It's different, isn't it, Doris – it's nice!"

"Oohh," she moaned, raising herself slowly, feeling the cock sliding against the sides of her sucking pussy, "so new!"

Next time she pressed herself down, Doris leaned forward, her face moving close to the old man in the chair, as she forced her clitoris to make contact with his stiff, throbbing but unmoving cock; the erotic friction raised her to a new height of excitement.

"I-I can't move my cock," he mumbled, "but I can play with your nipples if-if you'd like it!"

The breath panted from her mouth as she felt spasms rippling from her clitoris to her pussy as she rubbed it against his shaft, then she moved her hand from the back of his chair, where she'd placed it to steady herself during her sexual exercise, and groped at the front of her blouse.

He helped her unbutton it, then cupped her braless breasts with trembling hands. "Sweet little tits," he murmured, then he forced his head forward, took a nipple between his lips, sucked at it as Doris raised her body, lowered it, increasing then decreasing the tension on the stiffening tip of her nipple.

"That," she hissed, "ooohh, that!"

The muscles in her thighs were beginning to ache from her strained position and constant raising and lowering action, but the thrills, running from her nipple to her clitoris then spiraling inside her belly were making her throat contract with sexual excitement. This is different, thrilling and excitingly new!

He let his mouth slip off her nipple. "How'd you like it?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "I'm not fucking you, Doris, girl – you're fucking me!"

A ripple of excited laughter ran through his body and Doris felt his cock swelling, swelling!

"I-I'm going to come, Doris," he gasped. "Your tight little pussy is hugging my cock so snug that I-I – Doris, urgh – urgh!"

She jammed her body forward, felt the swollen organ gyrating against her clitoris. His mouth groped, blindly, for her nipple, found it and bit. She squealed, feeling her orgasm starting.

"Oohh, my pussy," she gasped, "my clit – oohh – my breast!" She shook her whole body, wildly, pressed down with all her strength and felt the head of the cock jam against the top of her pussy, jerk, spurt and explode.

"All over me," she squealed, orgasming, opening and closing her legs; bending and straightening her knees. "Right up my cunt all wet, all hot, oohh!" Her buttocks contracted, opened, jammed closed again and the walls of her vulva sucked at the jerking, spurting cock until all the juice was spent.

The old man sank back in his chair; his lips slid off Doris' sensitive, bitten nipple. "You juicy, young cunt," he mumbled in appreciation. "You sweet fuck – you've the sexiest cunt of the lot!"

Doris rested her cheek against the top of his head, still straddling him; her legs limp now, as the warm wetness slid down from inside her pussy and saturated the base of his softening cock. She dragged in a gulp of air and said, "I've never done that – anything just like that – before!"

He reached behind her, stroked her sweating bottom. "But you'll do it again…" he smiled, confidently. "At least once a month – probably more, Doris – so much more!"

She drew her head back, looking into his face. "I-I don't know," she murmured. She turned, saw the small pile of bills on his desk. It has been different and thrilling and wonderful – and he paid me for it, too!

"You'll come again, won't you?" he asked.

She giggled, blushed. "I'll have to collect the rent each month, anyway," she admitted.

"Maybe I'll start paying weekly," he said with a smile.

She laughed. He is an old devil!

His face became serious. "I want you to come and see me at least once a week, will you?" He glanced at the open drawer with the pile of bills in it, "You won't be sorry," he added, softly.

She blushed again. It wasn't just the money…

"All right," Doris said, "but not just because of that." She nodded to the open drawer. "But because you're a lonely old man with nobody to help you except, maybe, your granddaughter, and… who else?" She looked at him with raised eyebrows.

He gave her a sheepish grin. "My-my niece – my young niece!"

Doris drew in her breath. "You devil!" She tried to look shocked. "Has she got a nice, tight pussy, too?"

"No nicer than yours," he assured her, stroking her bare bottom. "You're it, Doris – the sweet, fucking most!"

"What a thing to say," she protested, but she didn't really mind his words. "And who else is there?"

He shook his head, didn't answer.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to Doris. "Who used to collect your rent?"

"Mildred or Willis," he muttered.

"Willis?" Doris sounded surprised.

He nodded. "Yeah, stupid idiot – can't do anything right!"

Doris was quiet, thinking about the previous night. She wasn't so sure that Willis couldn't do anything right!

"What about Mildred?" she asked, curiously.

He tried to move himself. "Let's not talk about her. I'm glad you're here, Doris, and that I'll be seeing you often."

Doris lifted herself. His limp cock was still inside her pussy; now, it slipped out, slowly and sadly.

"You've got a wet pussy now, all right," he said, watching the fluid drip out of it.

"Your stuff," said Doris, edging herself back and reaching down for her panties, "… you shot it all into me."

He watched her take a tissue from her tiny purse, wad it then wipe at her vaginal lips. "And very nice, too," he said. "Juicy cunt, luscious fuck!"

She dragged on her panties, then wrapped her tiny skirt around her waist.

"I can suck you off if you'd like it sometime," he informed her. "D'you like having your pussy sucked?"

Doris dropped her eyes. "Maybe," she whispered, coloring, "but not now." She picked up the small pile of bills, stuffed them into her purse with the rent money. "I'd better be going – Mildred will wonder what I'm doing all this time." She gave an excited giggle.

"If she knew what an oversexed kitten you were, she wouldn't wonder," he said slowly.

"D'you think I'm oversexed, Mister Macallister?" Doris asked seriously.

"Definitely," he answered, "and I like it."

Doris was thoughtful. "I don't think I am, not really. It's just that things have been happening lately…"

He nodded, smiled knowingly. "I can believe that!"

Doris turned to the door. "I'll see you next month, Mister Macallister."

"It's Barney," he said. "Don't you think you know me well enough to call me Barney?" He grinned at her expression. "And I'll see you before next month – some time next week I hope!"

Doris looked doubtful.

"I'm always here," he added. "Please come, Doris; I'll be waiting – and looking forward to seeing you."

"I'll try," she promised, opening the door. "I'll try, Barney," and she exited.

She saw Willis before he saw her. He was standing behind a low bush with only the top part of his body visible; his head was thrown back and he seemed to be staring at something in the sky.

"Willis!" Doris called, moving toward him, "what are you doing here?"

It was only ten minutes since she'd left Barney Macallister's cottage.

Willis started, then a slow smile spread over his face when he saw Doris.

"D-Doris-doll," he stammered, "I-I was waiting for you."

"Waiting for me! But how did you know where I was?"

He grinned, idiotically. "I saw you going to old Mister Macallister's house!"

"And you've been waiting all this time?" Doris glanced at her watch; she'd been inside the sensuous old man's cottage for nearly two hours. "What did you want to see me for?"

He licked his thick lips, moved out from behind the bush. "Fuck," he said. "I wanted to fuck your cunt, Doris-doll!" And she looked down, saw the immense shaft projecting from his open pants. As usual, his cock was in a state of erection.

Doris' face paled. "But here…" she panted, her eyes flickering around them, "not here, Willis!"

"Ya, here," he nodded eagerly, "nice soft grass, Doris-doll; soft and smooth to lie on." He moved up to her and she took an instinctive step back. "Lie down, Doris-doll – open your white legs, let me fuck your cunt!"

"No, Willis, no – I don't want it!" Doris panted, moving back.

His face looked unhappy and angry. "Last night, Doris-doll – last night you…"

"That was different," she cut in. "Don't think you can just grab hold of me whenever you feel like it," her breasts shook with indignation, "just because your cock gets hard doesn't mean you can rape me!"

His face set in a stubborn expression. "Wanna fuck," he said like a peevish child, "wanna fuck your cunt, Doris-doll!"

"No!" she snapped.

He pushed at her and she almost fell. "You're my doll – my Mama said you're my doll!" He pushed again and this time Doris lost her balance, fell onto a grassy hillock on her back. Her skirt was around her waist and Willis stared at the tightly stretched panties, still damp at the crotch. His words had startled her. "Your mother said that!"

He was staring at her crotch. "You're wet there, Doris – all wet!"

"What did your mother say?" she asked urgently.

He grinned. "Mama said I can fuck your pussy!"

Red spots of anger appeared in Doris' cheeks. What do they think I am? "Well, your precious Mama's wrong!" she snapped.

Willis dropped down beside her, and a long fingernail ripped at her panties, splitting them open at the crotch.

"No, Willis, no!" Doris panted.

He pressed his hand into the opening, found her saturated pussy, clawed inside it, clumsily, painfully.

"You're hurting me," she panted, wriggling out of his reach.

He looked at her, breathing hard through his nose. "Wanna fuck!" he mumbled.

"No!"

He rolled himself toward her with surprising speed; before Doris knew what he was going to do he had twisted her face down on the grass. She felt him lifting her skirt and felt the cool air on her bottom; he moved the torn panties off her buttocks then brought down his hand in a slap.

"Owww!" The startled gasp of pain shot from Doris' lips. She was startled as much as hurt.

He slapped down again and his hand sank into the soft flesh, leaving a red mark on each palpitating cheek.

"Don't," she moaned. "Owww, don't, Willis, don't!"

He slapped again, watching her buttocks wriggling about as she squirmed herself, trying to get away. He spanked her bottom more viciously and she opened and closed her thighs in pain and frustration.

"Stop spanking me," she pleaded. "You're hurting my bottom!"

He laughed. "You're my doll – I can do what I want with my doll!"

He spanked her bottom again.

Frantically, Doris twisted her eyes sideways. He was sitting beside her while he administered his punishment. His cock was huge and she saw it swell and twitch each time his hand slapped onto her helpless flesh.

Stealthily, Doris stretched out her hand touched the massive organ.

Willis flinched, made a sound of surprise, then his hand spanked down onto her red and throbbing bottom again.

Doris curled her fingers round the swollen cock. "Urgh!" Willis groaned deep in his throat and his legs seemed to tense. He slapped her bare skin again, but not so hard this time. Doris barely made a whimper – but her hand moved on his cock. It was slimy with its own secretion and her fingers glided gently up and down. Willis pressed himself back and his shaft seemed to grow longer, thicker. Doris drew the skin down from its head, watched the red ball slide out. The sight excited her; her hand moved more quickly.

He spanked her again, but she was hardly aware of it. Her bottom was deadened by the series of slaps it had received. Her attention was riveted on the throbbing organ within her hand. She squeezed, slid her hand down, up again. Willis made an animal-like sound. She turned the head of the organ so that she was staring into the slitted lips in its head; it was so long that it seemed only inches from her face. She massaged it, watching the lips spew open, squeeze closed, then open again. A sound of pleasure oozed from Willis' throat and his hand rested on a cheek of her bottom, not moving, not spanking any more.

She massaged his cock sensuously; slowly then quickly, hearing the grating sobs pant from his throat.

"Urgh, Doris…" he gasped. "Urgh, Doris!"

Her hand moved more quickly; she felt the veined walls expanding, contracting and the pulsating inside became fiercer.

"I-I'm gonna shoot!" His voice went up high.

She squeezed as tightly as she could; felt the cock squirming, jerking in her hand – then thick spurts of juice shot from the open slitted lips, hitting her face – then shooting again, thickly, sickeningly, obscenely.

Willis had dropped onto his back; his hand had slid off her abused bottom. Now he raised and lowered his buttocks as the dregs of his lust flowed down his cock, squirted from the lips onto his Doris-doll's face.

Crazily, Doris felt her clitoris jerking wildly when the thick droplets of juice hit her mouth. She slid out her tongue, tasted the thick fluid. The taste repelled but excited her at the same time.

She looked at Willis; his eyes were open and he was staring at her. "I-I'm sorry, Doris-doll," he mumbled.

His words reminded her; she reached to her bottom, felt the bruised cheeks, tenderly. "I-I'm all sore. My bummie's so bruised!"

"I-I'm sorry, Doris-doll," he said again. Now that she had appeased his lust by masturbating him with her hand, he was quiet and apologetic.

"It'll hurt me to walk, I'm so sore!" Doris mumbled, exaggerating.

He scrambled to his feet. "I-I'll carry you. You're my little doll – I'll carry you through the bush!"

Before she could answer, he stooped, picked her up in his arms as though she was a baby, then started to walk through the bush, carrying her in his arms.

After the first moment of surprise, Doris found it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. "Willis, you'll put me down before we get to the manor."

"Yes, Doris-doll," he answered. "I-Ill do anything you like!"

"Why did you spank me like that?"

"You're my Doris-doll," he mumbled. "I wanted to fuck your cunt!"

"But why?" she persisted.

"Nice tight cunt, sucks my cock!" he answered.

Doris wriggled with impatience. "I don't mean that why do you think you can-can fuck my pussy any time at all!"

"Because you're my doll!" he answered, simply.

"Why d'you keep saying that?"

"Because Mama told me…"

"Told you what?"

"You're my doll – she got you for me to play with!"

Doris gasped. "What do you mean?"

"Mama bought you for me for my birthday." He smiled into her face. "I'm twenty-five years old. Mama always said she'd buy me a doll – a real live doll – for my birthday!"

Doris' face was white with shock. I am a doll! Solely for the purpose of amusing, being fucked by, this half-witted man-boy! It's crazy, crazy, crazy!

He put her on the ground when they were a hundred yards from the manor, and Doris walked the rest of the way in a kind of daze. Willis supported her, tenderly, carefully – just as he was supposed to: she was his own little doll and he had to look after her. He knew. His Mama had told him!