"Innocent in Chicago Volume One" - читать интересную книгу автора (Jenkins Mary)

CHAPTER FOUR

Cynthia soon discovered finding another job was not as easy as she had expected. With no experience, she was limited to those which paid the least and seemed to be the least interesting.

"But why don't you take a secretarial course, Cynthia?" her aunt asked. "They have six-week courses here, and then you'd be much better qualified for a job."

"Yes I suppose I should." Cynthia sighed. "But I'd like to look a bit more, first."

"Well, I think you're foolish. You know you can stay here as long as you want, so it's not as if you absolutely had to get a job."

"I know Aunt Mary," she replied, "and thanks, but the idea of going to school again just leaves me cold."

"Did you see the ad this morning for a clerk at the Harris and Black Department Store? No experience required, it said."

"Yes, I saw it going in on the bus this morning."

"Did you go and see them?"

"Yes, but…"

"Well, what happened?"

"I had to take some tests, the usual rigmarole, and after an interview, they said they'd let me know. The hours would be awfully long."

"Did you go any place else?"

"Oh, yes, I went back to the Rogers Employment Agency and they sent me to a couple places… an advertising agency and a distributing outfit for household appliances."

"How were they?"

"The agency looks real good. A modern place and nice people."

"And?"

"And they're going to let me know. That's what they all say," she said impatiently, "we'll let you know. Really doesn't anybody just hire on the spot."

Her aunt laughed. "Well, that's the way it goes, dear. You'll just have to be patient. What kind of a job did they have open."

"Office girl… to open mail, carry copy around, learn the switchboard to help the girl they've get on it now, and things like that. Sounds a little more interesting, at least, than the other jobs I've looked into."

"What about the one at the distributing place?"

"I didn't like it at all. The job, nor the people, nor the place."

"Well, maybe you'll hear from the advertising people. I hope so. Try not to get discouraged, dear."

Cynthia refrained from telling her exactly how discouraging and exhausting her job hunting had been, for she knew her aunt would only press her the more strongly to take a secretarial course. But since she didn't want to delay earning her own living she wasn't going to give up yet, although she had already found that her interviewers had been interested in her for other reasons than giving her a job. At the distributing company she had finally learned what it was all about. And she had learned with a vengeance.

She had gone in, eager and hopeful, dressed in a neat summer suit and pert white hat which framed her tanned face and golden hair impeccably and had waited impatiently to be called in for the interview. The office had been bare and stark, not at all pleasant and not very clean. Back and forth past the open door hurried flashily-dressed cigar-smoking men, talking to each other in loud tones, and rough language. Probably salesmen, she thought, and not very attractive ones at that. She didn't like the appearance of either the office or the employees and when she had finally been summoned into the interviewer's office, she had liked it even less.

Its windows closed, the room smelled of sweat, old paper and stale cigars. Behind a massive desk, which was scarred and chipped, sat a gorilla of a man with a large, square head, black, bushy eyebrows and smoking a cigar. He didn't get up when she entered.

"You can sit down there, girlie," he said as he pointed with his cigar, held between nicotine-stained fingers, to a straight-hacked wooden chair.

She sat down and demurely crossed her ankles, her gloved hands folded on her lap while he looked at her for a few moments without speaking. He sucked deeply on his cigar, blew out a swirling cloud of blue smoke, cleared his throat wetly and loudly, and spat on the floor.

"You're not bad, girlie, not bad," he said in a gruff voice. "We could use someone like you around here. Do you want the job?"

"What is it exactly?" she said faintly. She already knew she didn't want it but thought she might as well go through with the interview now that she was here.

"Nothing you couldn't do, honey. Opening mail, delivering it and general errand work… going out to get us coffee and stuff like that. Wouldn't tax that beautiful head of yours." He tilted his chair hack and leered at her.

"So what about it?" he said.

"Well, I…" she faltered.

"Doesn't pay much, of course," he said, "but then you haven't to worry about that. The Cromwell Wholesale and Distributing Company always takes care of its employees and there's no doubt that with your looks, girlie, you'll be well taken care of around here." He laughed, got up and walked slowly around the desk. She sat quietly, twisting her fingers, and watched his hands; his thumbs were hooked on his belt and one hand held the cigar. They were large and chapped with crescents of dirt under the cracked nails.

"Well, I…" she started to say.

She didn't dare raise her eyes as he came toward her, but continued to stare at his hands and behind them his stomach which swelled out like a soft, over-ripe watermelon under the belt and shirt, stained with sweat and dirt, limp and wrinkled.

"What's the matter, honey, I won't bite you!" He laughed again as he stood in front of her. She saw his hands move. He flicked his cigar, the ashes falling onto her skirt and over her white gloves. He put his other hand on her shoulder and squeezed it.

"Well, what about it?" he said.

"I don't think I'll take the job," she said, she was tense and frightened. But what could happen to her here in his office? She glanced out of the corner of her eyes at the closed door.

He roared with laughter again and moved his hand to the nape of her neck and rubbed it with firm fingers.

"Honey, you better think again. There might be more money in it for you than just the job. You know, you're quite a looker."

"I don't think I want the job," she said again and started to get up, but his hand drew her toward him and he crushed her against his chest. His head bent toward hers; she saw his stained teeth and smelled the nauseating smell of his breath and his mouth sought her own. Turning her head, she struggled to free herself from his arms and kicked his shin.

"God-damn!" he said. "You're a real she-devil!"

He lifted her by the armpit and put her on the edge of the desk. Pushing her back against the hard wood and crumpled papers, he leaned over her, his crotch pressed against hers, his jutting stomach spread over her hips, and held her down, one hand clamped firmly on her breast while the other searched under her skirt and fumbled up over her thighs to where her panties met in a flimsy silken triangle over her soft pubic mount.

"Let me go!" she screamed. "Let go of me!" She twisted and writhed under his hands, feeling his short, stubby middle finger insinuating itself up under the elastic legband of her thin nylon panties. She gasped in sudden pain and humiliation as she suddenly felt it sink deep between the fleshy lips of her vagina and far up inside her. His other hand left her breast and clamped over her mouth, trying to drown out the cries of terror building there at the sudden and unexpected attack. Cynthia was almost out of her mind from the quick paralyzing fear of what the pudgy, fat man might do to her in his wild uncontrolled lust. She looked up at him for a moment, her eyes bulging wide in disbelief. Sweat was rolling in tiny rivulets from his forehead from the unaccustomed exertion he was forcing on his flaccid body and his eyes shone with twin sparks of madness she had seen before in the wild rolling eyes of the insane in some far distant horror movie she had seen as a child. There was nothing she could do. Her body was frozen and she felt as though she was some distant observer gazing down on the unbelievable scene of her own rape in the office of this horrible uncivilized creature that could not even he called human.

She lay on the paper littered desk like some defenseless cornered mouse chased into a crevice by an evil purring cobra. Her muscles were useless and she could only follow his lewd, obscene actions with the fear dilated pupils of her eyes as he pried her legs apart with his own short fat thighs and edged far up between them. He slipped his finger wetly from her cunt and placing both hands under her knees, lifted her legs high up off the floor, at the same time pulling her toward him across the desk. She could feel her body sliding with ease through the disorganized stacks of paper that floated to the floor around them with a strange uneasy silence. There was no sound in the room now except the fat man's heavy, labored breathing that became more desperate with each moment he drew closer to possessing her lovely young body. Her shoulders on either side of his head and his hands snaked around her hips pulling her at him again until the whole of her upturned loins were pressed tight against the hard bulge beneath his pants.

The harsh metallic sound of a zipper being hurriedly pulled down broke the silence of the room and she felt the wet lubricated end of his penis pressing hotly against the soft inner flesh of her thighs at the top of her silk stockings. There was nothing separating them now but the thin flimsy band of her panties running up between her wide-held legs.

She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream, she wanted to tear herself away from this evil creature who was using her young fear-frozen body as though she were a whore that had just walked in off the streets. But… she couldn't. All she could do was lay as she was, helpless on her back in the messy pile of papers on the desk and let this dirty, filthy old man play with her secret parts as he willed.

He lifted her legs higher still and pulled her even closer to the edge of the desk until the white rounded ends of her buttocks were hanging slightly over the side. At the same time he arched his loins toward the center of her open thighs. She whimpered piteously, the first sound she had been able to utter since the horrible nightmare had begun and a trembling please escaped in a forced whisper from her throat.

"Please… please don't do it to me… please!"

Then to her increased horror, she saw a lewd smile break across his fat slobbering lips.

"Baby, I'm gonna fuck you like you ain't never been fucked," he grunted down at her in animal satisfaction, his small beady eyes dropping from her face to the exposed center of her loins. "Bet you got the tightest little pussy in town."

His hand moved down the inner flesh of her thigh and she automatically raised her head from the desk where it was lying and looked with pleading eyes down between the full cleavage of her dress covered breasts to the spread of her legs below. Another small squeal of protest escaped from her lips as she saw his thick, fat hand slide around the curve of her leg of her thigh and between her legs to pull aside the thin wet crotch piece of her panties. Her eyes widened further and she gave a choking gasp as she felt the hardness of the head of his cock probing harshly at the now open and unprotected lips of her fear-quivering cunt. He lifted it up and down in the nature-moistened slit for a moment, parting the full fleshy lips like a blunt knife slicing it's way through a soft cube of butter. Her stomach felt sick and nauseated and she heard him begin spitting obscenities through his clenched teeth as though he were a mad man.

"Oh little baby, what a tight lil pussy… lovely blond cunt hair… gonna fuck you crazy… come to Daddy, baby…"

And then… unable to contain himself any longer he jerked forward, sinking his fat, thick penis half-way into her cringing vagina. Cynthia gave a desperate choking gasp, an expression of utter incredibility coming over her face as she felt the hard blunt cock sliding relentlessly into her.

"Oh, ooooohh, God, no… no… please… No…!" her voice rasped helplessly as the hard brutal realization that all this was real tunneled into her tortured mind.

The fat man's eyes gleamed, as he looked down between their now lewdly coupled bodies and watched the slow agonizing disappearance of his thick round cock into the soft blond fleece between Cynthia's upheld thighs. When he had it a little over half way in, he stopped the wet, viscous penetration and hissed down at her agonized face: "There honey… you like Daddy's cock in ya, don'cha?"

Cynthia moaned in her agony of humiliation and did not answer the leering man's torturous question.

"Ya like it, baby, I can tell," he chuckled obscenely, "Ya want more don'cha? Ya want it all in ya, oh? I can feel that tight lil pussy beggin' for it. Tell me, baby, tell me, and I'll give it to ya."

She could not speak and just nodded her head. God, she had to get it over with or this horrible man would never let her go. She just had to.

"Tell me, baby!" he said more brutally time, pinching the soft inner flesh of her thigh hard between his pudgy fingers.

"Aaaagghhh!" Cynthia grunted. "Y-You're hurting me!"

"Tell me to fuck it then," he teased lewdly. "Tell me to fuck that lil cunt of yours, baby."

"Ooooh God," she groaned at the pain and finally found the strength from deep in her sub-conscious mind to follow his obscene command. "Yesss, God yes… fuck it… fuck it!"

The evil leering fat man above her released his flesh-tearing grip on her thighs and with a triumphant wheeze rammed his thick, fat cock as far into her belly as it would go.

"Ooooooooh," Cynthia groaned as it seared up inside her vagina, stretching the tender lips and inner walls wide apart. She grunted as the hard blood-filled head smashed with a jolt all the way up to her cervix. She was completely impaled in the most humiliating position in the world and the sight of her lush young body completely at his mercy that way drove the fat, puffing man almost wild. He rammed in and out of her quickly and without regard for the pain he was subjecting her to by the twisting and turning of her flesh beneath his hands as his cock pistoned in and out of her widely stretched pussy like a huge, throbbing blimp. There was nothing she could do but lay there and groan out her pain and indignation into the unhearing air above her. There was no one to help her and she lay limp and helpless on the desk until she suddenly heard his gasp down at her and felt the hot wet sperm of his stolen passion shooting in short powerful jets deep down inside her belly.

He stood sagging and wheezing between her legs for a moment afterwards as the hardness of his penis slowly drained itself and deflated inside her and then he backed away and collapsed in a huffing heap on the couch against the wall behind him.

Cynthia had never felt so soiled and degraded in her life as she struggled to her feet from the top of the desk. The crotch band of her panties slipped back into place under her dress as she stood up and she could feel it wet and sticky against the flesh between her legs from the flood of his sperm inside her.

Pale and trembling, her fingers nervously tried to straighten her skirt as he shakily struggled to his feet and stood beside her.

"Baby, you're a nice little screw. I think we can use you around here," he laughed as though he had said something humorous.

Cynthia said nothing as she struggled to re-adjust her clothing.

"Okay, okay," he said, laughing again and blowing his foul smelling cigar smoke in her face. "Ya can't blame me for grabbin' a little from a cute young gal like you, can ya. I'm only human."

She finished with her clothing and combed out her hair quickly without breaking the silence.

"Won't do ya no good to go to the cops, girly, if that's what you're thinkin'," he threatened with a knowing smile. "All them guys in the outer office would swear they didn't hear no rape. Might even say ya propositioned me for a job."

Without saying a word or looking at him, she picked up her purse, walked over to the door, opened it and slammed it shut behind her. She could hear him laughing as she walked away and tiny tears bubbled in the corner of her eyes.

Welcome to the big city, she heard the mocking voice of the fat man run through her mind. Ya'll love it, baby. And… she decided then and there that she would from this moment on.