This work is a work of fiction.
In real life, make sure you practise safe sex.
First published in 1994 by
Nexus
332 Ladbroke Grove
London W10 5AH
Copyright © Larry Stern 1994
Typeset by TW Typesetting, Plymouth, Devon
Printed and bound by
Cox & Wyman Ltd, Reading, Berks
ISBN 0 352 32953 X
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not,
by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, 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.

FANTASYWORLD

1
Amber, in a fury of frustration and sheer bad temper,
crashed through the door of her apartment and threw
her bag across the room onto the couch that occupied
one side of the living space. She had had one hell of
a day. In fact she had had one hell of a week. Perhaps
the worst week ever in her career as an Icon.
It was not that she did not love being an Icon.
She adored the fact of having been chosen by the
Network to be useful when so many others lived idle
and purposeless lives. More than that, Amber revel-
led in the thought of millions of people, men and
women alike, admiring her delightfully proportioned
body and using her image to feed their own fanta-
sies.
She was realistic enough to admit to herself that
what she did was not artistic or creative in any way.
The Icon images were quite crude when compared to
the output of the movie industry of a couple of cen-
turies ago. Nevertheless, multitudes who lived their
lives through the Reality Machines relied on Icons
like Amber to feed their impoverished imaginations.
It was a turn-on for Amber too. She just loved
standing there under the lights, vamping the cameras
and knowing that the film crew's eyes were roving
over every inch of her gorgeous frame. She was sure
that they were getting horny for her too. If only one
1

of them would make a move, they would find Amber
willing - hot and ready!
This last assignment, however, had been sheer mis-
ery. The Creator she had been assigned to work with
was a complete fool and just did not relate to her. For
five frustrating days he had had her in front of the
camera, walking, smiling, sitting, standing, going
over it again and again until the fool thought he had
got it right, when she knew that the way she had
posed herself in the first place had been just perfect.
Then, unlike the usual run of Icon images, this new
presentation was a period costume piece. Normally
she would just be naked, letting the camera lovingly
record her from every angle while she walked, stood,
sat or whatever. Now, it seemed, there was a new
trend. It appeared that audiences wanted more
action, more things to happen. There was even a
rumour that dialogue and plot might soon become a
feature of the contents, just like those old-time
movies. So for this job she was constantly having to
dress and undress, and at first the strange garments
from the twentieth century had felt clumsy and un-
comfortable.
Once she had become used to the constricting sen-
sation of wearing a bra and to the strange clinging
sensation of the sheer black stockings on her legs she
became a victim of a different sort of frustration. She
had to admit to herself that wearing some of these
garments made her feel downright sexy, even more so
than when she was baby-naked in front of the crew.
But she got no reaction at all from the damned Cre-
ator. All the time he was coolly professional, remote,
like a block of stone as poor Amber flaunted herself
for the camera and for the unseen millions of her
public.
2

The shoot had finished that day. Then there had
been problems with the transport to ferry Amber and
the technicians back to the city from where they had
been filming out in the countryside. The journey back
had been hot, sweaty and bumpy. Worst of all, Am-
ber had had to sit pressed thigh to thigh with the
despised Creator as he talked endlessly about other
shoots he had worked on with other, by implication,
more professional Icons.
Totally drained and exhausted, Amber slumped
onto the couch, kicked off her shoes and put her feet
up on a low table that was piled high with books. A
large mirror was fixed to the opposite wall and Am-
ber caught sight of her reflection in the glass. Her face
was red and flushed. Her deep yellow-brown eyes,
whence came her name, were tired and had an absent,
unfocused look. Now that the shoot was over she
must try to put this dreadful experience behind her.
She must get some, rest and relaxation.
She closed her eyes and tried breathing deeply to
control her jangled emotions. Gradually, as she cal-
med, she began to wonder just what was going wrong
with her life. She had a body and a position that
would excite envy if such a negative emotion had not
long since been purged from the human psyche. She
lived in an age from whence want and sickness had
long since been banished. Yet she was never content
but always frustrated and angry.
It occurred to her that maybe the Network had
been mistaken in selecting her. Maybe she would be
more content in some other role or like most of the
rest, spending her days hooked up to a Reality
Machine.
She recoiled from the thought. It was almost blas-
phemy. Those who had set up the complex of powerful
3

computers that ran the world had programmed the
Network for infallibility. The Network did not, could
not, make mistakes. No! She was an Icon and she was
meant to be just that. Still, though, there was this
emptiness inside her. This feeling that gnawed at her.
By now the air-conditioned atmosphere of her
apartment had cooled her off a little and she was be-
ginning to feel slightly more in control of herself. She
stood up and stretched herself, arms reaching for the
ceiling.
There's no point dwelling on things that can't be
fixed. I'm only going to make myself more unhappy
that way, she thought. First I'll get cleaned up and
then think about a little relaxation.
A shower always made her feel better. Then a
session with the Reality Machine might well ease
those frustrations that had been building up over the
last four days.
She would lock herself away for a few days, she
promised herself. Forget about the stresses of being
an Icon and immerse herself in some of the old tech-
nology books that littered her flat. She couldn't recall
what had first started her in that direction but dis-
covering an interest in the intricacies of old-time com-
puters and gadgets had really saved her sanity. She'd
even managed to unearth an antique computer -
maybe a hundred years old and still working fine.
With a great sense of relief she stripped off her blue
overall and stepped into the shower cubicle. The
needle-sharp points of water, cool at first, tingled her
skin. She stood, letting the water get warmer, soaking
her as it splashed about her, over her shoulders, down
her back and cascading over the svelte swell of her
buttocks.
Amber took some sweetly scented soap and
4

worked it into a rich lather. She spread the soft,
creamy bubbles over herself, massaging her breasts,
working her hands down over her torso, down to the
fine, silky hairs that crowned her pubis. She lingered
there, soaping and massaging the little mound, enjoy-
ing the electric sensations before, with a sigh, she left
off and resumed soaping herself.
As she rinsed the remaining lather from her slick,
shining and delicately perfumed skin she realised that
the feelings she had experienced on the shoot had re-
turned. Just as she had felt before the camera when
she was dressed in the clinging black silk stockings
and high heels, feeling the eyes of the crew upon her,
that was how she felt now. She was randy as hell. She
could feel, as then, the juices from her excited quim
oozing between the sensitive lips and moistening her
inner thighs. She stepped from the shower and grab-
bed a towel.
Vigorously towelling herself dry, the sensation of
the rough terry-cloth on her already sensitised skin
serving only to increase the overwhelming arousal she
felt, she wandered back into the living area. She
paused to tug an old, comfortable bathrobe about her
and made for the Reality Machine.
She had no need to select a Reality disc to play in
the machine. She knew what she wanted to happen.
She had every detail already fixed in her head. She
flipped the mode selector to Tree Form' and drew the
visor down over her face.
She was fully dressed now, in the fashion of the twenti-
eth century; a dark blue business suit over a prim white
blouse with a high collar. She carried a black briefcase
and strode with a purposeful step. She felt tired,
though, as if coming to the end of a hard-worked day.
5

She entered the apartment and stood in the hallway
which she knew led to a spacious living room beyond
which lay several other equally spacious and well fur-
nished rooms. At once a man appeared carrying a
glass on a silver tray. He was tall and well built with
a handsome profile. His hair was jet black and tightly
curled. His lips wore a welcoming but deferential
smile. He offered the tray to Amber, murmuring a
few soft words of greeting.
Thank you, Carlo,' Amber responded, lifting the
glass which held a clear, slightly viscous liquid to her
rouged lips.
The drink was slightly bitter on her tongue, tasted
of many herbs and was delicious. It provided an
equally delicious sensation as she drank, suffusing her
with warmth and a feeling of well-being.
'Delicious, Carlo. And now you may run my bath.
And tell Vincent to be ready for me afterwards. I
need to relax tonight.'
Carlo, with a slight bow in acknowledgement of her
instructions, left her. Amber wandered from the hall-
way into the living room where she remained alone
for a while, enjoying the silence and sipping her drink.
Soon the servant returned to announce that all was
ready for her. Amber put down her empty glass and
with a sweet feeling of anticipation she led the way into
the bathroom. It was an airy, high ceilinged room,
softly lit and decorated with purest, almost translu-
cent, marble tiles. A huge sunken bath, big enough for
four people, took up the centre of the floor. It was
filled brim-full with foaming, perfumed water from
which gentle curls of vapour rose into the cooler air.
'You may assist me, Carlo,' Amber ordered in a
soft, expressionless but nevertheless commanding
tone.
6

'It is a pleasure, Miss Amber,' the man with the
profile of a Greek god replied, humbly inclining his
head.
Amber stood perfectly still as with nimble fingers
the servant removed her clothes, carefully folding
each garment and placing it on a handy ottoman. He
knelt to peel the silk stockings from her legs, his fin-
gers barely brushing the smooth ivory skin. When she
was naked he stood and, taking her hand, helped
Amber descend into the bath.
She lay back in the delicately scented water, letting
the heat draw the tiredness from her body. The twin
peaks of her breasts, like coral-capped islands, broke
the surface of the water, parting the rich foam. She
inhaled the soft fragrance that surrounded her and
glanced languidly at Carlo who stood at the water's
edge. The distinct bulge in his dark, tightly cut
trousers clearly evidenced his discomfort.
Amber debated with herself whether she should be
kind to the poor distressed fellow or whether she
should let him suffer until later. Certainly, relieving
him now would increase his staying power later when
she would want him for her pleasure. On the whole,
it seemed that an act of charity would bring her a
reward. So why not?
'Carlo, strip out of your clothes and come here!'
At once Carlo took off his formal servant's attire
and waded into the water. Amber reached up and
touched the tip of his massive erection, making the
engorged rod swing gently from side to side. Starting
at the base she raked her carmine-painted nails along
its length. The servant tensed under the shock of
pain, his buttocks tightened but still he stood staring
impassively ahead.
Amber dipped a slender fingertip at the globule of
7

viscous liquid that emerged from the tip of his penis.
Rolling the angry purple crown between finger and
thumb she coated the velvety flesh with the oily fluid
until it glistened in the subdued light. A low groan
escaped the servant's lips.
Taking a firm grip of Carlo's heavy phallus in her
palm, wrapping her fingers tightly about him, Amber
began to wank him. Slowly at first, then with increas-
ing vigour she jerked the stiff rod until a pulsing
against her palm told her the moment had come.
Deftly she caught the stream of creamy liquid that
jetted from him in her palm. When she held out her
hand Carlo knew what was required. He knelt, lower-
ing his head and lapped at his mistress's open palm
until no speck of his cream remained.
'Now you may soap me,' Amber stated flatly as she
stood up, the hot water lapping about her knees.
The naked servant, his once glorious erection now
tamed and wilting at his groin, fetched soap and a
sponge. With practised hands he lathered his mis-
tress's body, coating her with a creamy carapace of
rich, sandalwood-scented suds. His supple hands mis-
sed not one inch of the gorgeous flesh of his mistress's
body, dwelling reverently over her superb breasts, the
ripe swell of her buttocks and the firm columns of her
thighs. His performance was nothing more nor less
than an act of worship.
When she had tired of this treatment Amber dis-
missed the man with a curt gesture. Alone once more,
she sank back into the water, letting it cleanse her of
the rich lather.
Eventually Amber had had enough of relaxing in
the now tepid water and was anxious to move things
along. She stepped from the bath and Carlo was there
instantly, ready to envelop her in a huge towel, newly
8

heated, and to use it to pat her dry. After briefly sub-
mitting to his tender ministrations she shrugged the
towel aside and stepped through a door into an ad-
joining room where Vincent awaited her.
He was a magnificent animal. His long blond hair
was drawn back over his scalp, emphasising his regu-
lar, high-cheeked features. His well developed pec-
torals gleamed under a sheen of aromatic oils. His
torso angled to a perfect waist. He wore nothing but
a pair of skimpy shorts that covered his boyish but-
tocks and emphatically outlined his manhood.
'Are you ready for me, Vincent?' Amber asked
softly.
'I am always ready for you, Madame,' Vincent rep-
lied, a mischievous glint in his pale blue eyes as he
inclined his perfect physique in a slight bow. 'Please
will you lie on the bench.'
Vincent gave her his hand and Amber lay face
down on the massage bench, making herself comfort-
able on the soft, warmed towels.
She felt a slight tickling and then a coolness as a
pool of sweet-smelling oil formed between her shoul-
der-blades. With a light circular motion of his hands
Vincent spread the oil over her upper back, over her
shoulders and down to where the hump of her but-
tocks began to swell. Then his firm, sure hands were
kneading her flesh, working the oil into her skin. Am-
ber gave a soft sigh of sweet contentment as his fin-
gers unravelled the knots of tension tied in her
muscles by the demands of her heavy day.
Amber was soon totally relaxed, her eyes closed,
her mind drifting dreamily, enjoying the pleasure of
the moment. The massage continued for her pure
pleasure. Vincent's hands roved over her back and
down to her waist. Delicately he spread more oil over
9

her buttocks, kneaded the firm mounds gently then
continued down her thighs and calves, finishing by
tweaking each toe to send a crackle of sensual pleas-
ure through the young woman's body.
Lazily Amber turned over to lay on her back,
studying the blond masseur through half-closed eye-
lids.
'Madame permits?' Vincent queried.
'Of course Madame permits,' Amber returned in a
throaty whisper.
She lay there watching as Vincent drizzled yet more
of the sandalwood-scented oil over her body.
Watched as if seeing it all in slow motion as the cool
fragrances trickled on her hypersensitive skin. Saw
tiny droplets cling to her engorged nipples before
forming rivulets which ran down the firm mass of her
breasts to form a small pool between the sacs of pli-
ant flesh.
Vincent dabbled his fingers in the pool and with the
familiar circular motion lightly spread the oil over
Amber's quivering flesh until she was slickly covered
from neck to belly. Then those lovely hands were on
her again. Gently now, Vincent played with her flesh,
cupping her breasts and lightly drawing the elastic
tissue into cones. He took a nipple between thumb
and forefinger, squeezing gently before leaving the en-
gorged bud to lavish similar attention on its twin. His
hands played over her, descending to her mount, teas-
ing her to a sweet agony of excitement.
'Your mouth. Use your mouth, now!' Amber hus-
ked urgently.
Easily parting her legs, Vincent lowered his face to
her womanhood. She felt his tongue trail over her
sensitive lower lips, felt him suck at the juices that
oozed there. The firm point of his tongue probed be-
10

tween her labia and he was within her, licking in her
cavern. Lips sucking, tongue vibrating in her, Vincent
thrilled her as he lavished attention on her sex. At last
he found the swollen knob of her clitoris and circled
it lazily with his tongue until Amber nearly screamed
with the tension. Then he was lashing at it, sucking
the tiny bead of flesh, lifting her to a screaming, foot-
drumming climax that seemed to burst from her
belly, threatening to tear her apart.
Amber's head swam with the intensity of her pleas-
ure. Her vision cleared and she saw Vincent smiling
down at her, his face glistening with her juices. Lewd-
ly, explicitly, she commanded him to slide his thick
manhood into her and to fuck her until she told him
to come.
Vincent bent down and slipped off the skimpy
shorts. His penis, swollen and ready, bobbed up and
down as he slipped the tight elastic over it. He took
himself in one hand while he used the other to part
the lips of Amber's pouting sex and thereby ease his
entry. Amber glimpsed his member, long and thick,
overflowing his clenched fist. She felt him enter her,
the crown parting her lips, the whole stiff length
slithering into her until he was deep inside.
Vincent grabbed her hips and started to fuck her
with rapid, powerful strokes. Amber's belly shud-
dered under the impact and her passion-swollen
breasts, bounced madly. Tiny shocks of pleasure rip-
pled through her. Amber emitted grunted squeals of
pleasure as each stroke of Vincent's tool slammed
into her.
Soon she felt herself near the edge of release, felt
the giant hand about to tear her asunder.
'Come now. Spunk in me! Spunk in me, damn
you,' she yelled as she thrashed wildly on the bench.
11

Vincent was beyond her commanding now, lost in
his own frenzy of lust. Oblivious to her, he continued
to thrust into her until with a final grunt he came,
pouring the desired torrent of jism into Amber as she
screamed and writhed in the grip of her own climax.
Amber was trembling as she swung her legs over
the edge of the bench. Vincent, panting heavily from
his exertions, offered his hand and, helping her to the
floor, led her to where Carlo lay. He too was ready
for her, reclining naked on a low, narrow bench, his
massive erection lying across his belly, the tip just
dipping at his navel.
She straddled the recumbent figure and, taking the
stiffened member in one hand, fed it into her pussy.
She felt the huge rod of flesh distend her womanhood
and clasped it tightly, working the muscles of her sex
against it.
Amber put out her hands, laying them flat on her
servant's chest, feeling the tickle of the mat of dark
hair on her palms. She dug her nails into the flesh and
dragged her talons the full length of his body, raising
dark red weals on the tanned flesh. She felt his penis
twitch inside her in response.
With one claw fixed on his chest and using the other
to caress her own slickly oiled breasts, Amber began
to ride up and down on Carlo's stalk. Levering herself
on tireless thighs she soon established a frenzied
rhythm. Now she was oblivious to the creature that
writhed beneath her, lost in the multiple climaxes that
surged through her. She did not notice when, despite
iron control, Carlo came, flooding her with his tribute.
Sweating and panting she jigged up and down until he
wilted and slipped from her, which Amber took as her
own signal to slump, exhausted, onto his breast.
* * *
12

She released the hand sensor and the visor slipped up
and away from her eyes. She remained motionless,
staring with sightless eyes, luxuriating in the after-
glow of so much expended passion.
The insistent buzzing of the videophone which sig-
nalled an incoming call broke upon her reverie. With
an effort she stood, padded barefoot across the room
and punched the button on the instrument to accept
the call.
It was Caroline, her manager. Once an Icon herself,
it was Caroline's function to make all the detailed
arrangements associated with Amber's assignments.
It could only mean work. Caroline never called so-
cially.
Ignoring Amber's obviously flushed appearance,
Caroline plunged straight in, words pouring from her
in a breathy torrent.
'Hi, Amber. I'm so glad to catch you. You finished
the assignment today, OK? Got home OK? Good!
Well, good news, my darling. Great news in fact. We
have another assignment, starting tomorrow. The taxi
will pick you up for the airport at about ten.'
'But I have other plans,' Amber broke in sharply
without stopping to think.
'What do you mean, other plans?'
'Well, I've got some old books, technical stuff. I
wanted to read and spend some time
Amber broke off, realising that her words meant
nothing to Caroline but remembering, as well, that no
one refused an assignment.
'Amber, what are you talking about? Well, forget
that anyway. You've been especially requested for
this one by the Network. No one else will do.'
'OK, so tell me about it.' Amber pulled herself to-
gether, trying to suppress the sullen note of disap-
13

pointment in her voice. 'Just so long as I don't have
to work with that toad Leonard again. The last shoot
was dreadful. You hear me, Caroline? Dreadful!'
'Don't worry darling, the Creator on this one is a
peach. You'll have a great time. Trust me.'
'So what's the assignment?'
'It seems there's a holiday resort out on the west
coast of America, in some place called California.
Anyway it seems the Network wants to make some
new publicity material to show to a wider public. It
needs it, obviously, since I've never heard of the place
before. It's called Fantasy world.'
'No, I haven't heard of it either. Besides, why
should anyone want to go somewhere for a holiday?
Isn't that why we have Reality Machines?' Amber in-
terrupted the flow of Caroline's headlong discourse.
'Search me. The fact is the Network wants you to
act as presenter. You know, to explain the facilities of
the place. A real speaking part, how about that?'
And the Network had asked especially for her?
What difference could it make whether she or one of
several hundred other Icons were involved? She shud-
dered at the almost blasphemous thought that had
crept up on her. The Network always had a reason,
always acted for the best.
'OK, so I had better get packed again,' Amber said
flatly.
'You haven't heard the best part yet. The shobt will
take five days. After that you get to stay on as a guest
of the resort with free access to all the facilities for a
month. Twenty-eight days of leisure and pleasure - at
least that's what the assignment briefing said.'
Amber's heart fell. The assignment coming so
quickly after the last trying experience was bad
enough, but to be away for a whole month!
14

'One last thing. It seems that at the resort every-
body has to dress in twentieth-century costume -
seems all the locals do, so you have to blend in. Still,
you're used to that now. All the clothes will be pro-
vided, you don't have to pack a thing. Just be ready
at ten.'
Caroline's face faded from the screen of the video-
phone. Amber had no option but to make the best of
it. If she had to be up and ready for that taxi she
would need to get some rest. Deflated, the warm glow
of the Reality session forgotten, she climbed into bed
and drifted off to sleep.
15

1
For the next hour Amber tossed and turned restlessly
on her narrow bed. She dozed fitfully but the teeming
resentments that flooded her mind denied her proper
sleep. She resented the Network for disrupting her
plans with yet another unwelcome assignment so
soon after her recent unpleasant experiences. She
hated having to work with jerks like Leonard. She
knew she wanted something more, something satisfy-
ing in her life. That was the rub - to discover just
what that longed-for something might be.
Maybe it was just the working of her overheated
imagination but sometime later she began to dream.
In her thoughts she was both participant and distant,
fascinated observer of the events that unfolded.
She was lying on her back on a wide bed. She had
no idea where she might be and the rest of her sur-
roundings beyond the edge of the bed were misty and
indistinct. A cool silk sheet was beneath her, a black
silk sheet covered her. She noted the pleasant undu-
lation of the covering where it clung to her ripe
bosom and outlined hips, belly and thigh.
Caroline was standing beside the bed. She was
wearing a shift made of some gauzy, diaphanous ma-
terial through which Amber could see the outline of
her naked body.
With a sharp movement Caroline flicked the sheet
16

from Amber's body to expose her nakedness. Amber
sought to cover herself, to hide herself from the other
woman's lascivious, lip-licking gaze but Caroline
took her firmly by the wrist, forcing her arms to her
side.
'You must learn that you are here merely for my
pleasure - for me to use as I wish.'
The words, delivered in a harsh and threatening
undertone, provoked a perverse thrill in Amber's
mind. She lay quite still, feeling Caroline's gaze sweep
her from head to toe.
A carmine-taloned claw of a hand clamped firmly
over Amber's swelling breast and squeezed the soft,
malleable flesh. Pointed nails almost pierced the skin
as Caroline drew the yielding globe into a cone. Fin-
gertips tweaked a rosy, engorged nipple to send a
shudder of electric shocks of sexual excitement
straight to Amber's core.
The nails dragged over the sensitive skin of Am-
ber's torso, making the tiny honey blonde hairs stand
on end before dipping into the cup of her navel and
then continuing over the swell of her abdomen to fi-
nally tangle in the silken bush at her mount. Firm
fingers palpated the puffy pad of the compliant girl's
pubic mound, then wiggled between soft thighs to
tease the moist opening of her sex.
'Soaking wet already. Such a horny little slut,'
Caroline sneered, a thin, greedy smile playing about
her lips.
She grasped Amber's wrist and raised her unresist-
ing arms above her head. A metallic click, the feel of
cold metal on her skin and Amber found her arms
manacled, held taut. Caroline moved to the foot of
the bed. Amber let her part her legs and fix them with
similar restraints about the ankles. Amber was
17

spread-eagled, flat on her back on the bed, allowed
only the smallest movements by her bonds.
The part of Amber that watched these events
looked on, fascinated and perversely excited. She felt
herself start to wake but, intrigued and avid to see
more, she willed the dream to continue. Thus, linger-
ing on the cusp of sleep and wakefulness she dreamed
on. Beneath the covers her hand crept between her
legs, her thighs parted and a slim finger probed her
sex.
Vincent was there beside the bed, towering above
her. She could see the washboard ridges of his ab-
dominal muscles gleaming dully with the sheen of
aromatic oil that covered his pelt. He was naked but
for a leather collar and heavily studded leather cuffs.
He dangled a martinet indolently from his right hand
while the fingers of his left toyed with the instru-
ment's broad thongs of supple leather.
An almost imperceptible nod of Caroline's head
gave the signal.
Vincent trailed the leathern tails lightly over Am-
ber's torso. She found herself straining against her
bonds, arching her body eagerly towards him, inviting
the lash as if she craved the pain that was to come.
A flurry of light strokes flicked over her breasts,
stinging and raising a first blush before Vincent
slashed the leather hard against Amber's yearning
tit-flesh. Amber sucked air and whimpered softly as
her bosom swelled and throbbed.
Vincent worked the lash over her body, thoroughly
punishing her breasts before moving down to stripe
the smooth flesh of her belly and then on to the fronts
of her thighs. Amber squirmed under the onslaught
yet the language of her body spoke as much of pleas-
ure as of pain.
18

The lash again attacked her passion-swollen bosom
before, obedient to another sign from his mistress,
Vincent put down the whip, having coaxed a soft
pink flush to suffuse the recumbent victim's pale and
silken flesh.
Vincent's penis was fully erect. He cradled it in his
palm, hard and threatening, presenting the rigid pole
of flesh within inches of Amber's lips. He was mass-
ive. Amber could see that the hand which nursed the
iron-hard phallus would barely close about its girth.
'Make him wet so he will slide into you. Suck him.
Lick him.'
Amber shuddered at the thought of the huge engine
of flesh violating the elastic skin of her cunt. She im-
agined the steel pole carving a path for itself in her
yielding sex in a merciless onslaught. Her tongue slip-
ped between her full lips to lave the head of the mon-
ster.
Vincent held himself within reach of her tongue
and lips. He fed the tip into her mouth, forcing her
jaws apart, her mouth hardly able to contain the feast
of flesh that was being crammed inside.
That's good. Make it wet and slick. You want it
don't you, you little whore. You want that great,
thick prick in you. Tell me! Tell me!'
Her mouth overfilled with Vincent's penis, Amber
gagged and tried to express what was, indeed, her
genuine desire.
'Ungh ... yes ... yes ... I want him to stuff me
with his great fat prick . . . ungh . . . Want him to
fuck me.'
Vincent's weapon was slick and wet from tip to
base when he finally pulled away from her. Amber
felt the mattress move as he climbed between her legs,
felt the tip of his organ slide between the lips of her
19

sex. Then he was driving into her, the rigid flesh
stretching the muscles of her pussy as Amber yelled
encouragement. She was out of her mind with lust,
willing this huge intruder to drive her to oblivion.
With Vincent's manhood filling her, Amber saw
Caroline pull off the gauzy shift. Her body was pale
and delightful; the red lips of her swollen sex glistened
in the forest of black hair between her legs. Amber
wanted her with every fibre of her being, wanted to
suckle the cherry-ripe teats at the peaks of the plump
mounds of her tits, wanted to drink that musky
liquor that drizzled from her sex.
Caroline climbed on the bed and lowered herself
over Amber's willing mouth. Amber's tongue coiled
into the ripe opening of Caroline's distended sex, let-
ting the earthy, sweet syrup trickle into her throat.
Beneath the covers, squeezing her own breast in
passion with one hand, Amber used a slender finger,
slicked with the viscous juices of her sex to stimulate
her clitoris. She massaged the tiny bud to make
electric pulses of joy swim to her nerve ends. The
sweetly overwhelming sensations rippled out from the
epicentre of her sex - groaning gently, she was
coming . ..
There was only darkness and, far off, an insistent
buzzing like an angered wasp. It became louder and
Amber wished it would go away. With a start she
awoke.
The buzzing was coming from the entry-phone.
Shaking her head to clear away the sleep-induced
muzziness, Amber swung her feet off the bed and
began to drag on her clothes.
On the other side of the world, beneath the plastic
glass atmospheric control dome that spanned another
20

city, in an apartment identical in every way to that in
which Amber lived, Simon hunched over his work
table. In the gloom the glare of the terminal screen
cast an eerie green light over his face which was set
in deep concentration. He had been at work for some
hours struggling with a new project and it was just
not coming right. Even worse, the deadline for deliv-
ery was just two days away! He had become so en-
grossed in his work that he had forgotten to turn on
the lights and now he was sitting in almost total dark-
ness as night settled over the dome.
He felt himself becoming increasingly irritated and
tense. The muscles of his shoulders and neck bunched
and knotted together until his head ached. He rubbed
his eyes, then reached behind to knead the base of his
neck in an effort to bring himself some relief.
Possibly the irritation would have been less and the
inspiration and commitment greater if he had really
believed in the project. But, as he told himself, the
choice of topic and the deadline were up to the Net-
work. The Network always ordered what was necess-
ary, what was for the best.
At the start he had enjoyed being a Creator, turn-
ing out scripts and scenarios to feed the demands of
the Reality Machines. Lately, however, he felt himself
being dragged down by the dead hand of the Net-
work. If only he could be allowed just a little creative
freedom, some small say in the form or content of the
product he was being used to produce.
But it wasn't just that. He was lonely too, achingly
lonely. He realised with amazement that he hadn't
spoken with another human being for several days.
He had even stopped going down to the Social Centre
provided for those who still sought out companion-
ship, after the time that he had been trapped for
21

hours by some strange old man who had droned on
for hours about agricultural androids.
Anyway, it wasn't just conversation he needed. He
didn't just lack company. He craved intimacy, to lose
himself in another's flesh, to smell their smells, taste
their tastes, know their ecstasy.
All of which was hardly likely to be provided for
him, however. Most people, had they known what
was on his mind, would have branded Simon as some
sort of aberrant pervert. Now that babies were made
in test-tubes in sterile laboratories under the control
of the Network to ensure population stability,
nobody fucked any more. Sex was all in the mind and
experienced, like most other things, through the
Reality Machines.
The headache was getting worse now and his eye-
lids began to droop. The nerves in the back of his
neck were tangled and drawn tight. It was time to
quit. Time to give up the unequal struggle, at least for
tonight. Simon pushed himself upright and reached
over to flick the light switch. He blinked like an owl
and then screwed his eyes tightly shut as the intense
glare hit them. Slowly growing accustomed to the
light, he forced his eyes open. If company and sex
were both out of the question, he reasoned, maybe
some food would help.
Simon felt a familiar gnawing in his stomach. His
head, despite the dull ache, felt light and his vision
was blurred and fuzzy. He recalled that he had for-
gotten to eat at lunch-time and now he was really
hungry. Stiffly he walked through the compact living
area with its leather armchairs and into the kitchen.
He took a package of shaped and flavoured soya
from the cupboard and placed the contents on a dish
in the microwave oven. A few moments later he took
22

the heated block of soya from the oven and picked at
it with a fork. The grey-green slurry looked un-
appetising, he picked at it and pushed the plate away
without tasting any. He swigged a couple of mouth-
fuls of ersatz beer from the bottle. Its only virtue was
that it was ice-cold and wet. He wandered back into
the living area.
His head continued to ache and the knots in his
neck and shoulders refused to unravel. It occurred to
him that maybe a session with the Reality Machine
might relax him and help him to unwind. It might
even give him the new slant on his project that he
needed. Then he really must get some sleep and start
out fresh in the morning.
So what should it be tonight? Something erotic,
without doubt. But what?
Simon browsed through his library. He had most
of the great works of erotica there. Maybe The Story
of O' - he had used it often and experienced the story
as O and as Sir Stephen. Yes, that was a great one.
But not for tonight. After a little pleasurable brows-
ing he chose a volume dealing with Catharine the
Great which emphasised the more sensational and
erotic aspects of her reign.
Normally Simon was perfectly capable of conjuring
the physical characters for the Reality Machine from
the resources of his own imagination. Tonight, how-
ever, he felt in need of a little help and so he selected
an Icon disc from the pile on the sideboard and fitted
it into the viewer.
He spent several pleasant minutes looking through
the disc until he happened upon the perfect image for
tonight's entertainment. She was honey-blonde with
deep amber eyes that glinted wickedly. Her full-lipped
smile lit up her whole face and displayed a set of
23

perfect teeth. She was naked, of course, and perched
on a stool. Simon enjoyed the firm globes of her
breasts, tips tilted and generously heavy, capped with
wide coral areolae.
The girl stood up and walked around, turning so
that her audience could get a good look at her. Her
skin was smooth and milky pale. The lighting im-
parted a soft sheen to the unblemished flesh. A tuft
of honey-blonde hair adorned her pudenda, nestling
at the confluence of her thighs. 'Nice legs,' Simon
noted. They were. Slender and well shaped, the firmly
thewed thighs blossoming into luxuriously fleshed
buttocks.
The image of the girl faded and was replaced by the
next Icon. Simon killed the picture and removed the
disc. He had chosen. He was ready.
Simon was wearing the standard unisex overall that
everybody now wore. He unbuttoned it and slipped it
off. He was naked underneath. There was no need to
undress to get the full effect of the Reality Machine.
Simon preferred to do so, however. Somehow it rrt&de
the experience more real for him, more wholly sen-
sual. He settled back into the armchair, enjoying the
smooth coolness of the leather against his skin. He
drew the Reality Machine's visor over his eyes and
grasped the hand-sensors.
They were riding in a troika over the seemingly end-
less snow-covered Russian steppe. Simon knew him-
self to be an officer of the Imperial Guard and knew
that his companion, sitting beside him, a few wisps of
honey-blonde hair escaping from beneath her sable
hat, was Catharine, the Tsarina. An icy wind whipped
across the open, featureless plain, pinching and chill-
ing their faces. Warmly enveloped in a mound of furs
24

that covered them almost completely, they were im-
mune to the cold, their attention directed elsewhere.
Beneath the furs Simon's hand was busy. He ca-
ressed warm female flesh. His hand roved over the
suave skin of his companion's inner thighs, tangled in
the damp forest of her pubic hair and stroked the firm
expanse of her abdomen. Becoming ever bolder his
fingers probed between her open thighs to find the
entrance to her womanhood, lingering at the sensitive
lips before probing within to provoke a gasp of en-
joyment to escape from the Tsarina's lips.
Simon's lower body was also bare. Catharine's slim
hand played lightly over his erect penis with a butter-
fly caress. Her hand skilfully toyed with his testes be-
fore moving to gently massage the stiffened pole of
flesh, deftly squeezing him before moving on to lan-
guidly caress his flat, hard belly and to enmesh her
fingers in the tendrils of his pubic hair. All the while
the two of them stared impassively ahead as beneath
the blankets of fur they pleasured themselves in
secret.
Soon a large wooden cabin built of rough-hewn
logs, a royal hunting lodge, came into view. The deep
snow was piled up against the walls of the cabin. The
shutters covering the windows were tightly shut. A
thick blanket of snow clung to the roof.
With a jingling of the harness and deep calls of
'Whoa, whoa there!' the driver of the troika brought
it to a halt just before the door of the cabin. The
guard of Cossacks who had accompanied them dis-
mounted and helped Simon and his mistress down
from the troika. One husky fellow, his shaggy beard
and rough fur coat giving him the appearance of an
unkempt bear, carried the Tsarina across the snow,
depositing her dry-shod within the entrance to the
25

cabin. Simon ploughed after them, shaking the snow
from his boots as he too entered the cabin.
The heavy wooden door swung shut with a thud.
Simon heard the metallic clatter of bolts being drawn
to secure the door, heard the stamp of the Cossacks'
boots as they took up their posts outside the cabin.
They were alone now and would not be disturbed.
The interior of the hunting lodge consisted of a
single large room. It was furnished, in the main, with
a large canopied bed which was covered with thick
fur rugs. A blazing log fire laid in a wide hearth
belched heat into the room and cast a ruddy glow
over everything. This, together with a few candles,
relieved the darkness sufficiently for Simon to see
everything clearly.
Catharine turned from the door, her full lips smil-
ing, her eyes ablaze with barely controlled lust. She
removed her hat, letting her honey-blonde curls
tumble freely onto her shoulders. The heavy fur cloak
slipped from her shoulders and lay where it fell as she
stepped towards Simon.
'Unhook me - and you shall see if the sight is
worthy of the feel.' Her voice, although thick with
desire, still held an edge of imperial command.
Simon obeyed and then sprawled into a chair by the
fire. Unhurriedly Catharine slipped the heavy brocade
gown from her body. She stood naked in her stock-
ings, showing herself unashamedly to her lover. Simon
drank in the sight of her, the ripely heavy breasts rising
and falling gently with her breathing, the swell of her
belly beneath her navel, the overwhelming creamy soft-
ness of her skin. Slowly she turned letting him see it all.
Placing first one foot then the other on a low stool,
she peeled the clinging stockings down her legs. Her
breasts, perfect, fecund tear-drops, swung heavily be-
26

neath her as she bent forward at her task of revealing
herself for her lover's delight. The soft flesh quivered
as occasionally her bosom brushed against her thigh.
Slowly, supple as a gazelle, she came towards him,
her breasts swaying slightly with the motion of her
body. She straddled one leg, then the other, bending
to remove Simon's boots. The taut hemispheres of
her buttocks jutted towards him, the heavy breasts
swung temptingly. Simon yielded to temptation and
reached for her, drew her towards him, his hand
about her hips. He licked wetly over the ripe flesh of
her buttocks, tasting her body. His teeth nibbled gen-
tly at the rich flesh mounds. Her bum quivered and
she thrust herself back at him. His stiff tongue probed
the dark cleft between the nates and tasted the earthi-
ness of her tiny, puckered anus.
With a sigh Catharine slipped from his grasp and,
turning, settled herself on his lap. Her mouth covered
his and their tongues twined together, sucking noisily.
She cradled her breasts, offering herself to him. Sim-
on bent his head to nuzzle the soft, pliant flesh and
took a rosy nipple into his mouth. He tongued the
morsel, coaxing it erect, then using palate and tongue
sucked on it, drawing her bosom into his mouth.
For some time Catharine allowed him to suckle her
thus, whimpering softly with desire as she clasped his
head to her. Then sinuously she slipped to the floor
between his outstretched legs. Deftly, with practised
skill, she unbuttoned his tunic and shirt. Easily she
released him from his breeches and he was naked.
Free of encumbrance Simon's weapon reared erect,
catching Catharine beneath her chin. She grasped the
rod of flesh, rolling it over her face. Her lips closed
over the dome for just a second.
Hardly able to contain her desire for a moment
27

longer she sprang to her feet and drew Simon to the
bed. In lascivious abandon she sprawled on the furs,
her legs parted wide and inviting. Simon knelt be-
tween her thighs and with an easy motion probed her
wetness, his heavy manhood entering her, burying his
flesh in hers.
With a first shock of realisation it struck him. He
was naked and fucking the Tsarina. Beneath him the
Empress was squirming in delight and urging him on,
babbling for him to fuck her, and to fuck her hard.
He knew, of course, that this was not a unique privi-
lege, knew his Tsarina's appetites. But for now it was
he who was riding the Russian filly, bulling her to a
climax as she groaned and mewled beneath him.
He felt soft thigh flesh caress his buttocks as
Catharine clasped her legs about him, drawing him
into her as she locked her ankles behind his back. He
redoubled his efforts, pounding his rod in and out of
her slickly grasping sex, making her squeal and
squirm with delight. Simon lowered himself onto her,
his hips thrusting maniacally. He clasped her to him,
feeling the soft spread of her breasts against his hard,
muscled chest.
Her body was alive, quivering as thrill after thrill
rippled through her until a banshee howl of pure re-
lease burst from her throat. Taking this as a signal
Simon too gave himself up to his climax, allowing jets
of creamy spend to erupt from him as he plunged
deep inside his Tsarina's cunt.
For a while they lay twined together, panting
slightly with their recent exertions. Simon's tool de-
flating, slipped from between the lips of Catharine's
sex and drew a damp trail over her inner thigh.
Soon the Tsarina, true to her reputation as an ar-
dent and insatiable lover, was the first to stir. Her
28

slim, cool hand gently enfolded Simon's relaxed man-
hood, squeezing the fleshy tube in an attempt to coax
it to life. Her hands caressed him. Tantalisingly she
fingered the velvet pouch at his groin and its precious
contents.
The flesh remained intractable and would not re-
spond to her touch. Catharine raised herself on one
elbow and whispered in Simon's ear.
T know of something that will excite you,' she said
with a wicked glint in her amber eyes while her
tongue played over her already moistened lips. 'And
it will bring an edge to my own pleasure too.'
Simon followed her gaze to a low table that stood
by the bed and saw the riding crop lying there. He
understood her meaning at once and needed no sec-
ond bidding. His blood was already pounding with
excitement and he leaped to his feet and caught up
the instrument of correction.
Between them they hastily built a heap of pillows
on the bed and Catharine took up her position, lying
prone over them, her buttocks thrust deliriously up-
wards by the mound beneath her hips. The fire had
flared up anew and gave a soft golden cast to the firm
flesh so meekly offered for Simon's attention. He
drew the stiff leather tip of the crop over the quiver-
ing hemispheres of flesh, lingering to trace the cleft
that separated the two perfect ovoids.
With quick flicks of the wrist he brought the long
loop of leather rapidly down over the Tsarina's arse
in a series of sharp blows, bringing a blush to her
cheeks. Catharine whimpered and wriggled her bot-
tom under this shower of blows and remarked throat-
ily, 'Don't play with me. Make them sting!'
So he began in earnest, the hot blood pounding in
his veins and the urgent entreaties of the Tsarina
29

spurring him on. With slow deliberation he lashed at
the ripe, shuddering bumflesh, raising deep scarlet
stripes with each blow. Catharine yelped like a tor-
mented dog each time the crop bit at her trembling
nates, but each yelp was followed by a deep and lust-
ful groan of sheer animal pleasure.
When Catharine's arse was flushed a deep, burning
crimson, Simon threw down the implement of wood
and leather. Catharine, raising herself on her fore-
arms, turned her head to look at him over a satin-
smooth shoulder. Simon noticed tracks of tears
coursing down her cheeks but also saw the look of
hot lust in her eyes.
'I see that our little game has made you ready.
Fuck me then! Take me!'
She was right. Simon's penis was thrusting from his
groin like a young sapling. He thrilled at the sheer
sense of power that surged from beneath his belly as
his engorged rod strained upwards towards his navel.
He stepped forward and thrust himself urgently into
the Tsarina's oozing pussy which guzzled him hun-
grily.
As if demented, grasping her hips, he thrust power-
fully into her. The slaps of his belly on Catharine's
wounded buttocks made her mingle yelps of pain
with her deep-throated groans of ecstasy. The animal
sounds and the Empress's obscene urging roused him
to new heights of passion while his hands grabbed at
her soft flesh, squeezing and kneading her juddering
breasts in a frenzy of desire.
With tightly shut eyes, his strong fingers bruising
her soft, white flesh, he lunged into her and came. His
creamy white seed boiled over into her, pouring from
him in a volcanic eruption while he yelled his release.
Beneath him, Catharine, half in pain, half in pleasure,
30

bayed like a wolf as his seed flooded her and her own
climax convulsed her body.
Simon released the hand-sensors and the visor of the
Reality Machine snapped up from in front of his face.
It was some moments before he recovered from the
intensity of the experience and only slowly did the
image of the delicious, naked body shuddering be-
neath his wild onslaught recede from his conscious-
ness. When he finally came to himself, he noticed that
he was shivering and he hugged himself. His skin was
coated with a film of clammy sweat which felt uncom-
fortably slippery against the leather chair.
Making a great effort, he got to his feet and stag-
gering to the bed, slumped on it and huddled beneath
the cover. He was fast asleep in a moment.
31

1
Simon came awake with a start. He lay on his back
for a few seconds, enjoying the warmth under the
covers, before he realised that what had woken him
was the insistent buzzing of an incoming call on the
videophone.
He scrambled from beneath the quilt and dragged
on the crumpled blue overall that still lay on the floor
where he had left it overnight. He dragged his hand
through his tangled, curly black hair in a vain at-
tempt to bring it to some order. He rubbed the sleep
from his eyes. Just as he punched the button to accept
the call he noticed the wall clock. It was past ten
o'clock.
The image of Leo, his supervisor, appeared on the
screen. The voice of the older man, deep and sonor-
ous, boomed from the speaker.
'My, my, Simon. You look terrible. Have I got you
out of bed?'
Simon affirmed that that was indeed the case and
dragged a chair under him. He suspected that this call
was not going to be a pleasant experience and would
most definitely focus 01} the poor quality of his cur-
rent work. He was not wrong.
'Do I have your full attention now, Simon?' Leo
went on. Simon nodded. 'Good. We really must talk
about how you are progressing with the current
32

assignment. I looked over the synopsis and opening
chapters you submitted last week. It's not good, is
it?
'Frankly Simon, you seem to be losing your edge
and a lot of the material you sent me just seems old
and tired. I'm not suggesting plagiarism - no, perish
the thought. It's just that your work tends to let the
original sources show through. It lacks originality,
freshness of approach. Do you follow me?'
Simon mumbled a few words accepting the criti-
cism. He didn't need Leo to tell him this. He knew he
was having problems.
'So how are you getting on with the next delivery?
It's due to be in by Tuesday.'
Simon's silence bordered on truculence.
'Not going so well, eh? Come on now, I'm trying
to help you. Do you know what I think the trouble
is? I think you've got stale. You need to experience a
little reality.'
Simon barely understood what was being said.
Surely all the experience he needed could be got
through the Reality Machine, in perfect comfort and
safety. As if divining his thoughts Leo, adopting a
very professional look, went on.
'Look here, Simon. The experiences you get
through the Reality Machine are only the product of
what's already in your own head or what other Cre-
ators have devised using their own experiences. You
need to get some fuel for your imagination and that
fuel comes only from a direct experience of the real
thing. From reality. Do you see?'
Simon indicated that he was following the older
man's argument.
'Now what I am proposing is that you take a holi-
day. In fact it's all arranged. You leave at the end of
33

the week. Just forget about the project and enjoy
yourself for a month.'
Simon gaped. It was unheard of to be released
from a project deadline. His mind raced, trying to
come to terms with the unfamiliar concepts that Leo
was laying before him.
'All right, don't bother to thank me!' Leo smiled
benignly. 'You can view a Network briefing on your
holo-screen in about five minutes. It will tell you all
you need to know about where you are going and
how you'll get there. Have fun and relax. We'll talk
again when you get back.'
The screen went blank. Simon barely had time to
come to terms with what Leo had said before the
holo-screen that took up most of one wall of the liv-
ing space burst into life. Against a background of
waving palms, crashing surf and deep golden sands,
a presenter with rather too many shining white teeth
and a very dark suntan was talking:
'Congratulations! You are about to embark on the
reality experience of a lifetime. You will experience
sensations in their clearest, truest form. Welcome to
Fantasyworld.'
The image of the presenter was replaced by a series
of scenes of rivers, mountains, lush forests and tower-
ing cities. The camera swooped and dived, zooming
in on a subject and then swiftly retreating before fad-
ing to a new image. Simon thought it was all very
artistic in an old-fashioned, cliched sort of way. Here
and there he recognised a familiar landmark that he
had seen in some old video or book. The commentary
continued in voice-over:
'California! On the west coast of the old United
States. Considered by many to represent the finest
flowering of late twentieth-century culture. This
34

golden land, peopled by handsome, tanned and
happy men and women has been preserved in time.
Where better to create Fantasyworld? A holiday re-
sort covering some hundreds of square miles where
your very dreams can come true!'
The images changed subtly. Now there were pic-
tures of hotels, beaches, restaurants. Men and women
dressed in the individualistic attire of the late twenti-
eth-century walked hand in hand, played in the surf
or sat enjoying a drink.
'Yes, here in Fantasyworld you will enjoy every
sensory and sensual experience you can dream of, and
even those which hide deep in your subconscious.
You will experience them all for yourself. The lips
you kiss will be real. The taste you taste will be real.
The skin you caress will be real.'
'Come, relax and enjoy. Your every whim, spoken
or unspoken will be satisfied. And it will all be real.'
Simon began to find the whole concept slightly
shocking. The screen showed images of people eating
strange foods while the voice-over explained that
these were apples, oranges, bananas, all of which Sim-
on knew only as the different flavourings added to the
ubiquitous soya cake. Then the screen dissolved to a
vivid close-up of two people coupling exuberantly on
a large comfortable bed. Slowly the camera drew back
to show that the couple were not alone. Several
couples and trios now writhed on the bed, all in vari-
ous states of ecstasy and combinations of copulation.
'Yes, indeed,' the voice-over enthused, 'your every
fantasy will be made flesh in Fantasyworld.'
Even though he was alone Simon found himself
blushing. Still, he was finding that he was becoming
quite intrigued by the whole idea and eager to hear
more.
35

The Network promotion ground on. The tone of
over-excited salesmanship was gradually replaced by
more level-headed delivery as information of a prac-
tical nature was imparted.
The original presenter's remarks were restated and
amplified. California had been preserved in a state of
limbo, just as it had been at the end of the twentieth
century. At first it had been intended to serve as a
sort of living museum, then the Network had come
up with Fantasyworld. Now to fit in with the twenti-
eth-century feel of the place all visitors must adopt
period dress. All necessary outfits would be supplied.
The presentation concluded with instructions for
travel to the shuttleport where the whole experience
of reality would begin as the lucky visitors journeyed
to Fantasyworld by air. Abruptly the transmission
ended and the television screen went blank.
Simon sat in the silence which was broken only by
the hum of the air-conditioner, trying to understand
and relate to the amazing and slightly alarming things
he had just heard. By now, quite naturally, he was
intrigued and excited by the prospect that was laid
out before him. He owned up, in his thoughts, to
often wondering what it would be like to really ex-
perience all of the sensations he had only imagined
through the medium of the Reality Machine. Now,
though, when the ability to do just that was thrust at
him, he was gripped by a terrible apprehension. With
reality it was you on your own, feeling the sensations
unaided by the comforting machine. Would he be
equal to the challenge? He felt himself to be entering
dangerous and uncharted territory.
Then he remembered the words of the video pres-
enter, 'Relax and enjoy', and felt himself comforted.
He was supposed to enjoy this and he would.
36

Right now, though, there was nothing for him to
do but wait. He had been released from the obliga-
tions of his job and did not have to meet the deadline
for delivery of the chapters that remained unwritten.
He had five days to fill. But how?
The thought crossed his mind that he might wander
down to the Centre. Maybe that old Techno would
be there. In his present frame of mind - yes, he did
feel himself oddly uplifted - the old man's garrulous-
ness might prove entertaining. He might even learn
something about agricultural droids. No! Even feel-
ing so good there was no way he could stand to listen
to the old man's pedantic chatter.
Music then? Simon enjoyed a good concert. That
would be just the thing to pass a couple of hours.
Simon made himself comfortable in the leather
armchair and rummaged in the case that held his
library of Reality discs. He chose an old favourite,
Beethoven's Ninth Symphony. Already in his mind he
could hear the glorious swell of the choral movement.
It was a classic version too: Von Karajan conducting
the old Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra.
Simon pulled the Reality Machine's visor over his
eyes and grasped the hand sensors. 'Maybe I'll be
hearing a real orchestra in a real concert hall in a few
days time,' he thought, letting a pleasurable shiver
run up his spine.
The adrenalin thrill that he always felt just before a
concert took over as he mounted the rostrum. The
murmur in the packed auditorium stilled as he tapped
the baton twice against the lectern. He swept his eye
over the members of the orchestra sitting at his feet,
waiting patiently for him to command.
He raised the baton and the performance began.
37

Beethoven's majestic music swirled about him. He felt
its beauty and its power. He felt his own power too.
It was he and he alone calling forth and commanding
these glorious sounds as he controlled the orchestra.
He and the orchestra worked through the sym-
phony, pausing at the end of each movement to enjoy
the enthusiastic applause of the audience. Each time
he stilled the clapping with an imperious flick of his
baton before commencing anew.
They reached the choral movement. He looked up
from the orchestra towards the podium where the
four singers were seated. She was there. Her honey-
blonde curls tumbled to her shoulders, framing a pale
face of finely sculpted loveliness. At the motion of his
baton she rose to her feet. The simple black formal
gown clung to her figure emphasising her pale beauty.
She opened her lips and sang a single note of the
purest tone: 'Freunde!'
The girl's deep amber eyes glistened under the
lights as she continued to sing the sublime lyrics of
Schiller's 'Ode to Joy'. Simon, lost in the moment, the
divine notes reverberating about him in the high
domed concert hall like an angelic chorus, continued
to conduct. The other singers stood and joined their
voices, singing their parts with gusto. The moment
passed.
So Simon spent the next few days in enjoying all
the pleasures afforded by the Reality Machine. Very
occasionally he forced himself to visit the Centre.
Fortunately the old Techno was never there and so
he was spared a further lecture. At last, however, the
morning of the sixth day arrived, finding Simon fully
prepared and eager for what he now regarded as a
great adventure.
The road to the shuttleport was virtually empty
38

and the robot taxi which had called for Simon early
in the morning sped on its way. Since he had never
had a need to visit the place before and, in fact, rarely
left the dome at all, Simon found himself being driven
through a new and fascinatingly unfamiliar area. He
watched the fields through the taxi's windows as they
hurried by, noticing with amused interest the agricul-
tural robots at work cultivating the soya crops, until
at last the taxi reached the complex of concrete build-
ings and high glass towers which was the old Charles
de Gaulle airport.
The taxi drew into the kerb and Simon got out. He
was greeted by a fussy little robot, squat and dome-
shaped, that invited him to follow it into the depar-
ture building. Inside he joined a small group of
people, all still dressed in the universal blue overall,
and all obviously bound for the same destination as
he. Apart from this small band, who seemed to herd
together in the middle of the great hall of the depar-
ture lounge from some inbred instinct of self-preser-
vation, the whole place was devoid of human life.
Several squat, dome-shaped robots, exact replicas of
the one that had met Simon, scampered about on
mysterious errands. The whole place seemed to be
run by these little bundles of electronics.
A loudspeaker set high in the roof of the building
came to life.
'All passengers for the flight to Fantasyworld,
please check in by entering through Gate Number 7.
Gate Number 7.'
As if with a single mind and a single purpose, the
whole group stirred themselves and, with Simon last
in line, filed through a double door marked with the
large numeral '7'. Beyond the door an attractive
blonde girl in a smart sky-blue uniform greeted each
39

person by name and directed them to a row of small
cubicles, instructing them to change into the clothes
they would find there and then to proceed to board
the shuttle.
Simon recalled from the Network briefing that all
visitors were expected to wear period clothes and
understood that right here was where the promised
experience of reality would begin. In passing through
that door marked '7' he had already entered Fan-
tasyworld.
Inside the cubicle Simon found a bundle of clothes.
He slipped out of his blue overall and began to dress
himself. He was mildly surprised to find that every-
thing was a perfect fit and seemed very comfortable.
He paused to enjoy the feel of the soft cotton sports
shirt on his bare skin before slipping into the sports
jacket that hung behind the door. There was a mirror
on the wall. Simon admired his subtly changed ap-
pearance and adjusted the set of the cotton trousers
over his hips.
There was a second door leading out of the cubicle.
Simon opened it, stepped through and found himself
in a short tunnel which led him into the shuttle.
Here, Simon was met by a tall, buxomly made bru-
nette who was dressed in the same sky-blue uniform
as her blonde colleague. Again she greeted him,
speaking his name, and led him to his seat by the
window.
Simon settled into the wide, comfortable seat which
was the innermost of a row of three. One by one the
other members of the group boarded the shuttle and
were shown to their seats. Some sat alone, others
were seated in couples. Soon a low buzz of conversa-
tion, sometimes punctuated by the greetings and in-
structions of the flight attendants, filled the air.
40

Simon consulted the information card which he
found in the seat pocket in front of him. He found his
seat-belt and fastened it, just as the card instructed.
He studied the picture of the aircraft on the card.
It was of modern construction, built by robot techni-
cians from the lightest and strongest materials to be
found in the galaxy. Its design, however, had not ad-
vanced that much beyond the aircraft of the late
twentieth century. There had been no real need since
people had stopped travelling in large numbers. Why,
it was argued, make long and tiring journeys when
videophones and the Reality Machine were available
in your own home? Now only a very few, like Simon
and his fellows, ever bothered to travel.
As the aircraft took off vertically from its launch
pad, Simon's stomach plunged most distressingly.
Once in level flight, however, he soon relaxed and
began to enjoy the sensation of being aloft above the
clouds.
Every so often during the flight the pretty blonde
attendant would visit him. Simon was sitting alone in
the row of three seats and each time she wriggled into
the empty corridor between the vacant seats and the
backs of the row in front to bend over him, offering
food, drinks or a magazine. Simon was aware of the
rustle of her clothes each time as she approached, the
rasp of her stockinged legs. Each time he caught a
whiff of her subtly sweet perfume.
The first time she came to him Simon accepted a
drink. She suggested gin and tonic. He sipped it, en-
joying the subtle bitterness, feeling the tang of the
fizzing tonic water tickle his nose. He had a second
gin and tonic after that. Then he ate dinner. He found
the beef oddly chewy but the taste was far superior to
the beef-flavoured soya that he would normally have
41

eaten. With dinner he drank a small bottle of red
wine, feeling himself becoming pleasantly light-
headed. After dinner he curled up in his seat and,
letting a pleasant drowsiness overcome him, drifted
off into a light sleep.
Simon woke to find the blonde girl bending over
him. The sun streaming through the cabin windows
behind her made her fine yellow hair seem like a
golden halo. The smell of her perfumed sweetness and
warm flesh seemed to surround him. She had taken
off her uniform jacket and Simon could see the swell
of her breasts straining against the crisp material of
her blouse. Her full lips parted in a smile.
'Hi there. Did you sleep well? Can I get you any-
thing?'
For the first time Simon noticed that she spoke
with the soft drawl of the former Southern United
States. Her voice seemed incredibly warm and rich in
comparison to the bland tones that Simon was used
to.
Simon's mouth felt very dry from the alcohol he
had consumed. He asked for a glass of water.
While she was away Simon noticed that someone
had covered him with a blanket. He also noticed that
the girl's nearness had had an effect on him. His erec-
tion swelled against his belly and formed a bulge in
his clothes. He folded the blanket and placed it on the
seat beside him. A moment later the blonde girl re-
turned with the glass of water. Again she squirmed
between the seats but just as she was about to place
the brimming glass on the little table beside him the
shuttle suddenly lurched, making her spill the con-
tents into Simon's lap.
^4Oh dear. I'm so sorry!' she exclaimed as she
reached over with a paper napkin to try to repair the
42

damage. Straight away her hand encountered the very
pronounced lump at the front of Simon's trousers. He
blushed a deep beetroot red. Her mouth broke into a
grin but she left her hand right where it was.
'Mm, mm. You poor man,' she said in a lowered
tone. 'I think I may be able to help you there. Would
you like to follow me, please?'
She stood up and wriggled from between the seats
and, with Simon following behind, walked the length
of the aircraft. Just at the tail-end of the plane she
stopped and ducked into a small curtained cubicle.
Simon followed her and the girl drew the curtains
together.
Turning in the confined space she busied herself
with Simon's buttons, loosening his clothes and draw-
ing his underpants and trousers over his bottom and
down his legs to his knees. His cock sprang upright,
hard and erect. The blonde put out a slim, cool hand
and stroked it gently, murmuring approval of its size
and weight.
Grasping the hem of her tight blue skirt she hiked
it up over her thighs, past her buttocks to bunch at
her hips. Hooking her thumbs in the waistband she
drew her knickers down her legs and stepped out of
them. She turned away from Simon and bent over the
counter that ran along one side of the curtained area,
cradling her head on her folded arms, presenting her
bare bottom to him.
Her arse was a perfect Georgia peach. Softly
rounded and firm, the white flesh was framed by her
tightly-drawn suspenders and the tops of her taut
blue stockings. Simon reached out a hand to cup and
fondle the silky smooth flesh. His thumb ran along
the cleft separating the cheeks and burrowed between
to tease the tiny, hidden bumhole.
43

The blonde wiggled her bum and murmured to
show her enjoyment.
'Mmm, uhh, mm. Oh that's nice. But we don't have
too much time, honey. Put it in me now. Unhh.'
With one hand Simon parted the lips of her sex,
feeling her moist and ready. With the other he fed
himself into her, pushing himself into her, feeling her
muscles grip him. She moaned softly as his belly met
her buttocks and he was fully inside her.
Simon clasped her hips and began to move in her,
slowly rocking back and forth, hearing her sex slurp-
ing wetly about his rod. He smelt her perfume min-
gled now with the odour of her arousal, sharp and
earthy. His motion quickened, his belly slapping soft-
ly on her quivering bumflesh as the girl groaned
quietly and bit her arm to stop herself from crying
out as pleasure flooded her.
Just then, as Simon neared his peak, the curtains
parted slightly and the brunette's face peeped in.
^4Oh, excuse me Jo-Anne,' she said in a perfectly
matter-of-fact tone, T didn't know you were busy,'
and the curtains closed again.
This brief but unexpected interruption barely dis-
turbed the rutting couple, barely broke the rhythm of
Simon thrusting into Jo-Anne's deliciously wet, cling-
ing tunnel. Simon moved his hands from her waist,
drawing them over her taut thighs, pushed his fingers
between the strained elastic of suspenders, down into
the tops of her stockings, kneading her trembling
thigh flesh.
Simon felt a boiling, churning sensation deep inside
himself and without holding back allowed his seed to
explode into Jo-Anne's hungrily clasping pussy. He
felt his whole being convulsed with the intensity of his
release.
44

With a sigh the blonde girl stood up and re-
arranged her clothes, smoothing her skirt over her
thighs, patting her hair into order. With trembling
fingers Simon fastened his clothes.
Thank you,' she smiled prettily. That was really
nice. Maybe we'll get a chance for more another
time.'
Without another word she turned and led Simon
back to his seat.
The rest of the flight passed uneventfully. Simon
dozed in his seat, slipping gently from wakefulness to
sleep and back again. Once, on the edge of sleep, he
felt as though the events in the curtained room at the
back of the plane had happened to someone else a
long time ago or maybe that he had dreamed them
long ago and had just then merely acted out that
long-buried dream. He smiled and climbed deeper
into sleep.
Just before they landed Jo-Anne stopped by his
seat. Bending low, as if to check his seat-belt she
kissed him lightly on the lips and whispered, Thanks
again. See you soon.'
45

1
The aircraft landed at Los Angeles International
Shuttleport and Simon and his fellow passengers were
decanted into the terminal building. The shuttleport
was much like the one they had left just a few hours
ago. There were slightly more people waiting for a
few more flights but the squat, dome-shaped robots
still seemed to run everything, rushing here and there
about their unexplained but obviously pressing busi-
ness.
A brisk, efficient and, of course, very attractive
young woman with a healthy, deep golden tan met
the party of travellers as they emerged through the
terminal gate. Greeting each one by name she shep-
herded the party to a vehicle which was parked just
outside the terminal building.
On the horizon, at some distance, Simon could
make out the towers of some great city. He recog-
nised the skyline of Los Angeles from some old ar-
chive discs he had viewed when researching a Reality
tape to which he had once been assigned.
As it left the shuttleport the transit turned away
from the distant city and headed north on a broad
four-lane highway. Simon was struck by the amount
of other traffic that also surged along the great black
ribbon of the road on either side of them. Looking
down he was a little taken aback to see that every one
46

of the vehicles was being guided by a person seated at
a steering wheel and other controls. It was only then,
and with some little concern, that he noticed that
their own vehicle was being driven by a person and
not under the pre-programmed control of a robot.
The driver, however, seemed to know what he was
doing and Simon settled down a little and tried to
enjoy the trip.
The transit ploughed on for over two hours. To-
wards the end they had swung onto a road that
hugged the coast. Simon stared at the ocean. The sun
was setting now and just before twilight the reflection
seemed to turn the blue-grey waters first golden and
then a fiery red.
Just as twilight turned to darkness, the bus reached
a small coastal resort town and came to a halt in
front of a tall hotel that stood right on the water-
front. Simon and two of the others were called and
the young woman • led them into the lobby of the
hotel. As they walked she told them that this was to
be where they would be staying and that they would
be briefed on the rest of the necessary arrangements
by the hotel staff.
Simon was left standing in the middle of the lobby
wondering what he was supposed to do next when a
tall man dressed immaculately in striped trousers and
a black jacket and waistcoat approached him.
^4Ahem, you are, er, Mr Simon, sir?' the tall figure
enquired, inclining his head in a sort of bow.
Simon confirmed that that was who he was and the
tall gentleman, talking all the time, took him by the
arm and propelled him gently across the wide open
space of the hotel lobby.
'I am so pleased to be able to welcome you to the
hotel, sir. We have assigned you to a suite on the
47

third floor. You will get a very good view of the
ocean from there.'
Simon remarked that the man spoke with the
slightly plummy, slightly orotund accents usually as-
sociated with the natives of Great Britain in pre-
Network times. First Jo-Anne, now this new ac-
quaintance. It seemed that everybody in this place
was different, everybody was signally an individual.
By now they had reached a row of elevators and
stood facing each other in front of the array of shiny
steel doors.
'Here is your key,' the tall man went on, handing
Simon what seemed to be a smooth, blank piece of
plastic. 'Simply place it in the slot on the lock and
grasp the door handle. The control computer will re-
cognise your palmprint and let you in. Oh yes, we
already have your palmprint on file.' This last to Sim-
on's enquiring glance.
'Now,' the plummy voice continued with hardly a
pause, 'you are free to stay here or at any other facil-
ity in Fantasyworld. And of course you may want to
stay in some . . . er . . . companion's room. There is
generally no restriction. Tonight, however, it is re-
quired that you do sleep in the room assigned to you.
This will enable us to perform a deep scan of your
subconscious to determine your innermost desires
while you sleep. We shall then be able to plan a pro-
gramme which will enable all of those desires, those
er . .. fantasies to be realised during your stay.
'At the same time we will take the opportunity to
transfer into your conscious mind some information
which will help you during your holiday. You must
already feel that the culture and customs here are a
little different to those you are used to. You will cer-
tainly encounter foods, drinks, machines even, which
48

may be unfamiliar to you. Our process will provide
you with complete familiarity with everything you
will encounter.'
By this time an elevator door had opened in obedi-
ence to the touch of a button. The tall man led Simon
inside and held the doors open while he delivered
himself of a few parting words:
'You must be feeling a little bewildered. A good
night's sleep is what you need and in the morning
take things slowly at first. Just remember, everything
that happens to you here will be because you want it
to. It is all absolutely safe and satisfactory. So, just
enjoy yourself.'
As the man talked Simon glanced over his shoulder
at a tall, strikingly attractive young woman. She
turned and Simon caught a glimpse of honey-blonde
curls framing a familiar full-lipped, oval face.
The doors closed with a swish and Simon rode up
to the third floor. He stepped out of the elevator and
wandered, a little bemused, along the quiet corridor,
his footsteps muffled by the thick carpet, until he
stood in front of a door bearing the number of his
suite. He slipped the card into the slot and grasped
the doorknob. The door swung open easily.
Just inside the door, in a small hallway which led
to the living room beyond, stood a short, well built
girl with a broad grin of welcome lighting up the
whole of her pretty face. The deep mahogany of her
skin, high cheekbones and almond eyes all bore wit-
ness to the traces of Indian blood that mingled with
the mixture of Mexican, European and other strains
that had contributed to this delightful confection.
'Hi, Simon. I'm Anita. I'm really pleased to meet
you.' She held out a greeting hand. Simon took it and
let himself be led into the living area. Anita took his
49

jacket and seated him on a low, comfortable couch.
She knelt before him and, easing off his shoes and
socks, began to firmly massage his bare feet. Simon
was surprised to find the sensation very pleasant and
soothing.
Tm sure you must be tired from the journey,' she
remarked, looking up at him with soft brown eyes.
'Would a drink help?'
The effect of the drinks he had had on the plane
had long since been forgotten. Simon thought that
the smiling girl's suggestion would be just the thing.
Drawing on a half-remembered memory of a story he
had read long ago, he answered:
That would be very nice. I think I'd like a dry
Martini, please,' and added spontaneously, 'and
please would you join me?'
'Why, thank you. I'd love to,' Anita beamed. 'And
how would you like the Martini? Straight up with an
olive?'
Anita seemed to know what was best, so with a
nod and a murmured 'Thank you' Simon agreed to
her suggestion.
She got to her feet and walked over to a small bar
that had been set up in one corner of the room. She
wore a simple black dress. The material clung loosely
to her body, finishing just above her knees. Simon
enjoyed the sight of her supple figure moving beneath
the thin fabric as she walked.
She mixed the drinks, pouring herself a white wine,
and returned to the couch carrying a glass in each
hand. Simon took the long-stemmed glass which she
offered him and Anita curled herself onto the couch
beside him, folding her shapely legs beneath her, let-
ting the skirt ride up to allow him sight of an expanse
of smooth brown thigh. She flicked a few strands of
50

blue-black hair from her face, then touched her glass
to his with a tiny clink and sipped her wine. Simon
tasted his own drink and tried to decide if he really
liked the bitter, herby taste of the ice-cold liquid. An-
other sip confirmed it. Yes, he liked the taste and the
effect.
'Now, Simon,' Anita began in a low, intimate tone,
'I'm here to make sure you get everything you want
and have a really good time. You can ask me for
anything. I'm at your complete disposal. And if I fail
to please you, then you can punish me.' She laid a
breathy, knowing emphasis on the words 'anything'
and 'punish' and her smile showed that she would
certainly enjoy meeting any demands he might make.
Simon's brain was in a complete whirl. What with
the long, tiring journey and the many strange sights
and sounds that had assailed him during the last few
hours, everything was starting to seem unreal and dis-
tant. Now he was sitting, enjoying a drink with a very
attractive young woman and he could barely take in
what she was saying. Without thinking he reached
out his hand and touched the soft skin of her arm. He
felt the downy dark hairs, silky beneath his fingertips.
Anita laughed briefly and, seeming to guess his
thoughts, said, 'Oh yes, I'm quite real. A real flesh
and blood woman. We don't use androids much here.
Just a few of the waiters and the kitchen staff.'
'And you come from . . .?'
'Born and bred right here.'
'And you work . . .?'
'Right here in the hotel. I've been here since I left
college. I get quite a buzz out of looking after visitors
like you. Especially helping them get over the "reality
shock".'
Simon drained his drink. So that was it. He was
51

suffering from 'reality shock'. That was why he felt so
confused and disorientated by the noise and bustle,
the different accents and the colourful, individualistic
dress of those around him. He put his glass down on
a side table.
'You should eat the olive - it's the best bit. Deli-
cious!'
Simon picked it out of the glass and popped it into
his mouth. Anita was right. He opened his mouth to fire
another question but Anita held up a hand to stop him.
'No more questions now. The best thing is for you
to get some sleep. Allan explained about sleeping here
tonight?'
'Allan? The tall fellow in the dark clothes? Yes, he
did.'
'Great. Allan, he's the hotel manager. He's a good
guy. A bit stiff and "British" but fun when you get to
know him.'
Simon's mind continued to reel. He could see that
Anita was right, sleep would be the best thing. But:
'I'd love to get some sleep. The thing is, though,!
feel so strung out, so enervated, I don't think I could.'
'Oh, I think I have a cure for that,' Anita said
quietly, putting down her glass.
She kissed him, lightly at first, lips brushing lips.
The tip of her tongue probed moistly and he opened
to receive her. She explored his mouth and found his
tongue, sucking noisily, satisfyingly. Simon reached
round behind and tugged down the zip at the back of
her dress, all the way down.
Anita slipped from him and eased the flimsy ma-
terial over her shoulder and down her arms. She
reached behind her, unclasping her bra, letting her
breasts tumble free. The firm brown gourds, quiver-
ing slightly, jutted proudly, defying gravity, riding
52

high on her breastbone. The nipples, an even darker
brown, crinkled and puckered into hard bullets when
Simon reached up to touch them. She drew his head
down with a happy sigh, letting him nuzzle her, feel-
ing her yielding softness for a long moment.
She stood up, letting the dress fall from her to pool
about her ankles. She stooped, stripping off her
skimpy panties. She gave him her hand.
'We'll be more comfortable in the bedroom.'
She led and Simon followed, getting a good look at
her plump, jiggling buttocks.
Standing at the foot of the bed in the half-light she
undressed him. Briefly she clasped herself to him, let-
ting him fondle her smooth behind, then drew him
down onto the bed beside her.
They rolled together, their bodies fitting together
with easy familiarity. His mouth found her breasts
and suckled her teats. He trailed his tongue over her
soft, dusky flesh, over her rib-cage, over her belly
down to rasp wetly over the spiky bush on her pubis.
He smelt her. Inhaled the perfume between her
breasts. Smelt the subtle and complex odours of her
flesh. Caught the sharp tang of her arousal, earthy
and elemental.
He ran his tongue over her belly, sucking at her
flesh, dipping his tongue at her navel.
'Mmmm, you taste good.'
'You too,' she answered, her tongue lapping at his
flat, hard chest.
She lay back and Simon knelt between her legs. His
erection felt huge to him, thrusting imperiously from
his groin. It felt massive and throbbing with power.
He had never imagined himself this huge, this power-
ful. But this was real. He was really feeling this en-
ergy, this sense of mastery.
53

Anita reached up and grasped the ruggedly veined
shaft. She drew it down and fitted the head in the
mouth of her sex. Slowly, surely, Simon pushed him-
self into her. Her sex gobbled him up greedily as he
pressed himself into her, slurping wetly as the hard
rod of flesh forced aside the elastic muscle walls.
Simon held himself motionless within her, bent to
lick her lips, to probe her mouth. Then, locked mouth
on mouth, tongue on tongue, he began to work inside
her. Anita groaned her pleasure deep in her throat,
her cunt and her mouth full of him.
They fucked long and pleasurably, grunting and
moaning. Anita, her eyes closed, writhed beneath
him, clasping her arms tightly about him. He stiffened
and as he poured himself into her, Anita came with a
tiny gasp of pure pleasure.
They lay, flesh on flesh, mingling the sweat of their
bodies.
'Sleep now Simon. Go to sleep.'
'Will you stay with me?'	«
'Yes, of course I will.'
She drew the covers over them and threw an arm
over his waist. Her hand curled about his relaxed pe-
nis. Simon drifted into a deep restful sleep.
It was late the next morning when Simon finally
awoke. The sun poured in through the open double
window that led out onto a balcony overlooking the
sea, making him blink until he became accustomed to
the brightness. He lay on his back. He felt perfectly
calm and relaxed. He felt no trace of the anxiety and
disorientation he had experienced the night before.
His rest had obviously done him good.
Anita was standing over him, looking down at him.
He rolled over, raising himself on his elbow, returning
54

her smile. She wore a man's shirt that hung loosely
on her, reaching just to mid-thigh to show off her
bare brown legs. The formal mannish cut made her
seem, by contrast, very feminine and slightly gamine.
Simon could just detect the sway of her bra-less
breasts beneath the loose material.
'Good morning. I'm sure you slept well. I've made
you a little breakfast. Sit up and I'll fetch it.'
Simon sat up, propping himself on the pillows as
Anita fetched a tray that seemed to be well loaded.
She placed it beside him and came round the bed to
perch, half kneeling, half sitting, on the cover beside
him.
Simon found that he was quite familiar with every-
thing on the tray. There were fried eggs, ham and a
short stack of pancakes, butter and maple syrup too.
He suddenly realised that he was very thirsty. He
picked up the glass of orange juice that was placed
beside the well filled plate and swallowed it in three
great gulps. He tasted the sweetness followed by the
citrus sharpness that hit the back of his throat. He
turned to Anita.
'Take off your shirt. I want to look at you.'
With a nod and a murmur of assent, Anita unbut-
toned the garment and slipped it off her shoulders.
Her breasts swayed slightly as the cotton brushed
over them. They were just as he recalled from last
night, perfect brown spheres, the flesh stretched taut
like well filled balloons. She sat quite still, letting him
look his fill.
Simon touched them, his hands sinking into soft-
ness that had seemed unyieldingly firm. He massaged
them gently, squeezing the silky, brown pods.
'Mmm, that's nice. Harder now. Squeeze harder,'
and Anita squirmed her bottom.
55

Simon did as he was told, increasing his grip on her
tit-flesh, kneading a breast in each hand. He felt the
nipples spring to life, trying to bore into the palms of
his hands.
Anita's eyes were wide now and her tongue flicked
to moisten her lips. Still she squirmed and crooned,
'Oh, oh, so good. Oooh, that's sooo good!'
Simon, encouraged, increased the pressure further,
drawing the sweet flesh into elongated cones. Anita
let out a small gasp, half pleasure, half pain. Realising
that they had reached the threshold between shared
delight and hurt, Simon released her and bent for-
ward to tenderly kiss each brown slope.
He found himself to be ravenously hungry and
turned his attention to the ham and eggs. Anita
looked on as he attacked the food until his hunger
was stilled. He turned his attention to the pancakes.
He cut a pat of butter from the soft, golden yellow
mound that sat on a dish in one corner of the tray
and placed it on the still warm pancakes, watching it
slowly begin to melt. He took a smear of butter on
his forefinger and sucked it into his mouth, tasting its
salty creaminess. Out of the blue a thought came to
him.
He dug his hand into the golden mound, covering
his fingers with an ooze of butter. Starting at the base
he began to smear the oily, yellow cream over Anita's
breasts. Encouraged by her low throaty laugh of en-
joyment and a string of lewd comments, he soon
covered both breasts and the opulent, quivering flesh
glistened with a slick, oily sheen.
He lowered his mouth once more to her flesh to lap
the butter from her bosom, relishing the oily saltiness.
She thrust her bosom into his face which was soon,
like her breasts, covered in a buttery gloss.
56

He came up for air. Anita grinned at him.
'Mmmm. You know pancakes taste good with
maple syrup too.'
He caught her meaning. He picked up the litre jug
of syrup that stood on the tray. Anita with both
hands bunched her breasts together to form a plat-
form as Simon upended the jug, pouring a steady
stream of the sticky stuff over them.
The free-flowing liquid formed a pool in the chan-
nel between her tightly squeezed breasts, then the
pool overflowed and the syrup cascaded over the ripe
mounds, covering Anita's hands and splashing over
her belly and thighs. She released her tits and ran her
hands luxuriously over her body, coating herself com-
pletely with the sweet, viscous goo.
She whispered, 'You too, my friend,' as she ran her
syrup-coated hands over his chest, matting the crin-
kly chest hair and smearing syrup down to Simon's
belly. She cupped her hands to receive a last measure
from the jug and, giggling, anointed his uprearing
phallus with it.
Simon bent to lick the sweetness from her, tasting
her softness and the syrup. She clasped him to her
and they rolled together in a tangle of limbs and suck-
ing mouths. They clung together writhing on the bed,
filling their mouths with each other's flesh and the
rich sweet syrup.
At last Simon found himself lying beside her, his
head between her warm, sticky thighs. He felt her
tongue rasp at his erection, he felt her mouth close
around his shaft. He closed his eyes in rapture as she
sucked him, rolling his penis over her tongue and be-
tween her lips. He lowered his face to her sex, probing
her cunt with his tongue. He lapped at her and tried
to suck her pubis between his lips. His sticky fingers
57

pried her apart, letting him reach the sensitive nerve
bundle of her clitoris. He nibbled the tense bud and
worried it with his tongue. He felt her whole body
tense and shudder in climax as she filled his mouth
with a musky emission of juice. He, in return, felt his
cock twitch between her lips and spurted a stream of
semen against the back of her throat.
He slipped from her mouth and they lay, inverted,
in the delicious afterglow until Anita decided they
should get cleaned up. She pulled him to his feet from
the crumpled and ruined sheets. He followed her into
the bathroom. Once more he was treated to the sight
of her opulently fleshed rump jiggling in front of him
as he followed on.
They climbed under the shower together and Anita
turned on the taps. Jets of water poured over them
and steam curled about them. Anita got busy with the
soap, working up a creamy lather over Simon's torso,
washing the stickiness away and paying particular at-
tention to his manhood. At her prompting Simoa
performed a similar office for her. They rinsed off and
towelled each other dry with large, rough towels.
Stepping back into the bedroom Simon really saw
the devastation for the first time. The bed was a com-
plete wreck. The sheets were covered in butter and
syrup. In their romp in each other's arms they had
upset the tray and sugar, milk and the other breakfast
remains littered the floor.
'What a mess! Did we do that?' Simon exclaimed.
'I guess so. Still, I suppose it was my fault, I did
encourage you. Do you think I deserve to be punish-
ed?' Anita answered, pushing her glorious buttocks
against Simon's half-hard penis.
Simon put his arms round her belly, drawing her
closer. His cock sprang fully erect and nestled be-
58

tween her bum cheeks. He recalled her little speech of
the previous night and her emphasis on the word
'punishment'. He wouldn't refuse so open an invita-
tion.
'Yes, I think so. A spanking on that luscious be-
hind would probably do you good.'
Anita produced a mock frisson of fear and clenched
her bottom on his hardness. 'Oooh. Well, if you're
sure. How would you like me?' she said with a feigned
tone of uncertainty.
Simon drew up a straight-backed chair and sat
down, indicating that Anita should drape herself over
his lap.
She did so, grinding her belly into his tormented
erection as she squirmed to get comfortable. In this
position Simon found himself facing the mirror-
fronted wardrobe which ran along one wall of the
bedroom and could see the full reflection of himself
with the naked brown girl draped across his lap.
He raised his hand and brought it down hard,
spanning both cheeks of the girl's arse. A satisfying
and resounding 'Thwaakkk!' filled the room followed
by a surprised and pained 'Owwch!' from the girl.
Simon could see her face clearly, saw the look of min-
gled surprise and pain which soon resolved into a
smile of enjoyment.
He slapped the trembling flesh with a series of
sharp strokes, cupping his hand to increase the sound
of impact. Anita bucked and wriggled under this as-
sault, wiggling her quivering bum. She yelped with
pain certainly, but clearly signalled her arousal by the
deep, pleasured sighs that followed.
At last, when his victim's fesses had turned a deep
crimson and his own palm stung hotly, Simon
thought it was time to stop. His penis was rock-hard
59

now, burrowing at Anita's navel and his blood was
pounding with sexual excitement. From the ecstatic
expression on her face Anita was getting fairly heated
too. Simon passed a hand between her thighs. The
wetness he found there confirmed it.
He had her lay face down over the edge of the bed,
placing a couple of pillows beneath her hips to raise
her. He parted her legs and placed the head of his
cock between her moist nether lips. Seizing her hips
he drove into her, fixing himself surely within her.
Anita gasped as his hardness forced her apart and
filled her sex cavern.
Without finesse or refinement, with an outburst of
animal lust, Simon rogered her. His belly slapped
against her wobbling buttocks. He grasped handfuls
of her flesh in his frenzy. Anita, her face buried in the
rumpled sheets, groaned and gasped as a tidal wave
of sexual release rolled over her.
Still Simon thrust into her sex. Again Anita came,
nearly fainting with the power of it. She felt him
tense, felt his organ pulse inside her and gratefully
accepted the flood of jism he poured into her, before
both of them subsided, exhausted, on the bed.
60

1
By the end of the shooting of her assignment all of
Amber's reservations about California and the pros-
pect of a long and enforced holiday in Fantasy world
had quite evaporated. Likewise her annoyance at be-
ing made to forgo her own plans for spending time
with her antique computers was hardly a memory.
The assignment, contrary to her expectations, had
been both stimulating and fulfilling. Unlike the other
work she had been expected to be more than just a
beautiful body, another animated prop to add colour
to the scenery. She had dialogue to learn and was
expected to interpret character. It had been a real
challenge but she had risen to it well and had found
herself loving every minute. She reached the end of
each day's shooting tired but with a very satisfying
feeling of having achieved something worthwhile.
All of this was helped in no small way by working
with Don, the Creator who was directing the action.
Don was a complete and refreshing opposite to Leo-
nard whom she had suffered on her last assignment.
Don worked her hard and was very demanding but
he also seemed to value her judgement and took time
to consult Amber and to listen to her opinions on
how a scene might be played.
Don was a contrast to Leonard in other ways too.
On the very first day of shooting he made it quite
61

clear to Amber that he found her sexually attractive
and that he wanted her. That same night he took her
to bed and for the rest of the shoot Amber stayed
with him at his secluded Spanish-style ranch house,
just outside the city. She gloried in the reality of sex
with a flesh-and-blood man, relishing his caresses
which reduced her to a frenzy of passion and pleas-
uring Don enthusiastically in return. During those
five nights they ran the whole gamut of sexual pleas-
ure that a couple alone could enjoy.
Amber also fell in love with reality. At first, just
like Simon, she had found the richness and strange-
ness of the sights, the sounds and the smells which
surrounded her, confusing and disorientating. Here
too Don had a part to play, guiding her first experi-
ences until she felt completely at home in the Califor-
nian culture and lifestyle.
Don, a native-born Californian, was urbane and
knowledgeable. After each day's shooting had ended
he could be relied upon to introduce Amber to some
new and delightful social experience before they re-
turned home to share his king-size bed. He took her
to the finest restaurants, sometimes dining on fresh
seafood at one of the intimate cafes that could still be
found on the waterfront at Fisherman's Wharf, at
others, sampling the finest Chinese food in China-
town or heading over to North Beach for delicious
pasta and heady Napa Valley wine. All of this, the
subtle tastes, the crisp napery, the glittering cutlery,
all was calculated to captivate a young woman who
up to now had experienced food only as chemically
flavoured soya cake and moulded plankton culture.
Don also knew of all the latest and hottest night-
spots. He took her dancing. Dancing to music made
by musicians who actually played their instruments
62

there in front of you. Amber was in ecstasy, her pulse
racing, her being uniting with the rest of the heaving,
gyrating crowd, abandoning herself totally to the
overwhelming sensual and sensory experience.
On the last day of her assignment, when shooting
was finished, Don announced that he had a special
treat in store for her. He wanted to thank her for her
fine work on the picture and to let her know how
much he had valued their time together. He suspected
that what he had planned for her would probably be
her most exciting experience yet. He was going to
take her shopping.
He was right, of course. They drove into San Fran-
cisco to an extensive shopping mall. Amber was quite
overwhelmed by the variety and amount of merchan-
dise on offer. Her head spun and she was enraptured
by the prospect of browsing and choosing from
amongst all the richness set out in the stores.
Don, fortunately, was endowed with innate good
taste as well as an intimate knowledge of the stores
and boutiques that lined either side of the mall's cen-
tral atrium. He took Amber in hand and gently and
discreetly steered her through this treasure cave, once
again acting as her guide.
They visited jewellers and clothes boutiques, shoe
shops and sellers of colourful trinkets. Amber's gorg-
eous eyes sparkled as she inspected gold bangles,
pearl necklaces and colourful gemstones set in
precious metals. She became quite breathless as she
handled and tried dresses and blouses and skirts, en-
joying the smell of their newness and the touch of the
fabric. She felt a small sexy thrill as she selected linge-
rie, imagining how she would look and feel clothed in
the slinky or frivolous creations of lace and silk and
satin.
63

Don let her have her head, allowing her to browse
to her heart's content. And when Amber's mind was
made up, he was not niggardly in acquiring for her
her heart's desire.
Later that night Amber modelled one of the
choicer items of lingerie for his pleasure, a heavenly
creation of black silk and lace that clung revealingly
to her finely rounded curves. It is hard to say who
gained most enjoyment from the garment: Amber
from the cool, sensual kiss of the silk on her bare flesh
and from seeing the obviously arousing effect she was
having on her lover; or Don, from the pleasure of
peeling the silken web from her body, slowly uncover-
ing the pale flesh that contrasted so eloquently with
the black silk.
The next day, Don drove Amber down from the
city to the Fantasyworld hotel to which she had been
assigned. Unlike most guests on their arrival, Amber
was well provided with luggage and two bellhops
busied themselves unloading it from Don's car as he
and Amber clung to each other, making their good--
byes.
Allan, the manager, was there to welcome her too,
gushing an effusive greeting in his plummy British ac-
cent. His usual speech of welcome to new guests with
its well founded advice would have been wasted on
Amber. She was already a sophisticate when it came
to experience of reality and was just anxious to add
to her stock of knowledge. Allan was astute enough
to recognise this and held his tongue.
Unlike Simon, whose suite was situated in the main
hotel building, Amber was given one of the small
secluded bungalows that stood in the hotel grounds
fronting the sea-shore. Allan himself escorted her
through the gardens, past lawns kept lush and green
64

by daily watering, through groves of trees, chattering
inconsequentially the whole time. At the door to her
bungalow he courteously took his leave with a final
reminder to sleep there that night. Inside Amber was
greeted by Luis, with a little speech much in the same
vein as Anita's greeting to Simon:
'Good afternoon madam. I am Luis,' this with a
slight bow. 'It will be my pleasure to serve you in any
way you wish during your stay. Whatever you wish,
just ask.'
Amber looked him over with an appraising eye.
Luis wore only a pair of loose white cotton slacks,
with rope espadrilles on his bare feet. Amber noted
with satisfaction that his bare, well tanned torso
showed good development of the pectoral muscles
and that the muscles of the abdominal region were
also well defined without seeming in the least gro-
tesque or over-inflated.
'First of all you can get me a drink. A well chilled
Chardonnay if you have it. Then you can get these
things unpacked and put away,' Amber ordered cold-
ly when she had looked her fill, and indicated the pile
of suitcases the bellhop had just deposited in the
lounge.
She sat back in an armchair and kicked off her
shoes. She sipped her wine as she watched Luis
through the open door as he busied himself in the
bedroom. Her favourable first impression was con-
firmed. He moved well, supple and athletic. As he
bent over an open suitcase the tightening of his slacks
showed off well muscled thighs and a fetchingly tight
little bum. Amber smiled inwardly. Here were Carlo
and Vincent all rolled into one obedient and sun-tan-
ned package.
Luis finished his chore and came back into the
65

living room. Amber felt wicked and wanton and
ready to give him his ultimate trial before he earned
her full seal of approval.
She stood in front of him and fixed his brown eyes
with hers. She reached out and drew her nails lightly
over his chest, barely touching the flesh. She drew one
nail over his left breast with slightly greater pressure
to leave a red mark in its wake. She repeated the
action on his right breast.
Warming to her task, the blood already pounding
in her ears, she worried at his nipples with thumb and
forefinger, gradually working her carmined talons
into the sensitive skin. Ultimately she clawed at him
in a kind of controlled frenzy, tearing at his bosom,
breaking the skin. Luis remained impassive, holding
her gaze with his own.
Amber reached down and loosened the thin cotton
trousers, flipping them over his buttocks, letting them
fall to his ankles. She cradled his awakening penis on
the palm of her hand. It lay like a long, thick, sleeping
snake, gradually rousing and stiffening under her
touch. Amber noticed happily that the tip lay a little
above her wrist while her index finger just touched the
velvety bag of his scrotum. Already she could imagine
that long, thick thing inside her, the tip burrowing at
her womb. She teased his scrotum with her nails,
weighed the testes with a fingertip. Her nails raked
over his full, hard length. Luis blinked and his breath
quickened.
Releasing him, Amber stood and stripped off her
clothes. She didn't rush, neither did she tease, merely
gave Luis a good long look at her delicious body as
she undressed.
When she had finished, slipping her lacy panties
down her bare legs and tossing the scrap of material
66

to the floor, she edged closer to him. Automatically
he reached up to cup her breasts. Amber drew back.
'Uh, uh! You only touch when I say so. You only
do what I tell you.'
Luis' hand dropped to his side and Amber edged
closer. She took his by now fully stiffened penis and
fed it between her thighs so that its length rested
along the length of her sex lips. She smiled as she felt
the crown, bared now that the foreskin had drawn
back, tickle against the lower lobes of her buttocks.
Tantalisingly she brushed her heavy breasts against
his chest, letting his bosom push the hardened nipples
back into the pliant spheres. She grasped his shoul-
ders and dug her nails into the muscle, fixing her
talons in his flesh. She felt him twitch and seem to
grow even bigger nestling in the soft channel between
her thighs.
She lowered her head, nuzzling at the bronzed flesh
of his chest and at the same time tightened the grip
of her thighs on his manhood. She tongued his chest,
lapping like a cat, her tongue rasping over the crin-
kled mat of hairs. Then licking became tiny nips, be-
came full blooded bites as her sharp incisors clamped
into his flesh. Impossibly Luis's tool seemed to swell
even thicker as he stood and suffered, forcing itself
against her sex lips, parting them into a channel that
sucked against the rod of flesh.
Amber released him, stepping back and letting him
slip from between her thighs.
'Lay on the bed. On your back.'
Luis kicked off the trousers and his sandals and lay
naked on the bed, holding his huge erection ready for
Amber to mount.
Almost frantic with lust Amber climbed onto the
bed and, throwing one leg over the recumbent Luis,
67

mounted him, lowering herself slowly onto the erect
staff. She gasped as the tip entered her and sighed
pleasurably as more of his length slipped easily inside
her. Slowly, slowly she lowered herself onto him, feel-
ing every inch of his sturdy weapon slither into her
slippery channel, peeling her fleshy walls apart like
the petals of a tightly budded flower.
At last he was wholly inside her. Amber felt the
huge stiffness throb in her, deep in her belly. She
leaned forward a little, pressing her hands flat on his
chest. Then her thighs were levering her up. Slowly,
feeling every inch slip between her sex lips she raised
herself off his manhood until only the very crown re-
mained within. A brief, breath-stopping hiatus, then
down again, letting the delicious phallus probe her
again.
So she rode him, savouring every subtle sensation
of his prick within her, feeling every ridge and swollen
vein of his organ inside her sensitive womanhood.
At last, with a grunted command, Luis was allowed
to touch. Amber dangled her swollen breasts just
within reach as, obediently, he reached up, cupping
the fleshy mounds, squeezing and kneading them to
the grunted approval of his mistress.
Still Amber rode him, a little faster, a little more
urgently now, slightly gyrating her hips, literally
screwing herself on his hugely thick manhood.
Luis by some miracle held himself in check, letting
Amber use him as waves of pleasure engulfed her. Up
and down she rode, grinding her arse against his
thighs, squealing in abandon as the tide of orgasm
rippled through her body.
Finally, through the veil of lust that clouded her
senses Amber became aware of a certain significant
stiffening of her steed's body. She relaxed onto him,
68

jamming his pulsing rod in her sex just in time for a
torrent of spend to erupt inside her. Quickly she
raised herself off his still convulsing penis to watch,
fascinated, as another jet of his creamy jism and still
another spurted from him, splashing over them both.
She rolled off him and lay briefly on her back feel-
ing his semen trickling over her skin, drying and cool-
ing. She raised herself on one elbow. Luis was still
beside her, motionless.
'Now go and run my bath. Make it good and hot.
Oh, and clean yourself up too.'
Amber spent the rest of the day relaxing and pamper-
ing herself in and around her bungalow. Towards
evening she sat out on the sun-deck watching the sun
set over the ocean and sipping another glass of tangy
Chardonnay. That evening she dined alone in one of
the hotel's restaurants, content with her own com-
pany and her own thoughts. After the last hectic week
she found it most to her taste to be alone and to
savour the food and the wine that was set before her.
Then, having allowed Luis to pleasure her once more,
she settled down to sleep.
The next morning Amber awoke full of a bubbling
anticipation of the adventures she knew were bound
to happen for her that day. She ate a light breakfast,
soaked herself blissfully in the shower and afterwards
let Luis towel her dry.
From her new wardrobe she selected a loose sweat-
shirt and beige slacks. She slipped her feet into a pair
of blue canvas sneakers and she was ready to face the
world.
Having no particular plan in mind she wandered
out through the living room, across the sun-deck and
down onto the beach. In one direction the pale buff
69

sand stretched for miles, ending in a low headland on
which some sort of structure had been erected. It
might have been a lighthouse or maybe the ruin of
one, but it was too far away to see clearly. In the
other direction it was the same except no headland
interposed itself between Amber and the horizon. In
both directions the beach sloped gently down towards
the sea where incoming waves slapped monotonously
onto the hard-packed sand.
The morning was already pretty far advanced and
several people were out on the sand. Mostly they
bunched together on the strip of sand that fronted the
hotel. At the edge, four bronzed young men were
playing volleyball and the breeze off the sea carried
their shouts of self-encouragement to Amber as she
stood, indecisive, at the edge of the sand. Further on
a couple of joggers plunged laboriously through the
loose sand, kicking up a little dust cloud in their
wake. Beyond them, even further, the beach was com-
pletely deserted.
Amber set out in the direction of the headland. The
loose sand dragged at her feet and filled her shoes,
making her calves ache after just a few steps. She
laboured on though and just past the hotel she came
to a board-walk that skirted the beach. She climbed
the couple of steps up to the firm surface, shook the
sand from her shoes and started on her stroll again.
Soon the hotel was a good way behind her. Amber
walked slowly onward, listening to the sounds of the
sea, feeling the sun warm on her face, enjoying the
breeze which cooled her just enough. She thought
about sunbathing that afternoon. Maybe she would
look good with a tan. Would she burn? She would
have to take care. Still, the idea of just relaxing in the
sun had a distinct appeal.
70

She paused to watch some sea-birds wheeling
above the ocean, calling to each other with harsh
cries. She could see a heat haze rise from the hot sand
as the day became hotter. Still the breeze from the
ocean kept her cool.
Amber turned to resume her walk and became
aware that by following the board-walk she had come
closer to the town and that she could see the low,
pastel-coloured buildings that bordered the coastal
road. A short way off she saw the sun terrace and
bright canvas awning of a beachside bar. A cooling
drink and a seat in the shade seemed a very tempting
proposition. She headed towards the oasis of cool-
ness.
After a few minutes of gentle walking Amber
reached the bar that stood right on the very outskirts
of the town. It was justly called The Last Chance
Cafe'. Amber took a seat in the shade, facing out over
the ocean and towards the headland. Now that she
was closer she could see clearly that the structure was
the ruin of some sort of tower. She ordered a beer.
When the waiter brought it, in a tall ice-frosted glass,
she realised just how thirsty she was. The first mouth-
ful was delicious and refreshing, cascading against the
dryness of her throat.
She settled back to enjoy the moment, letting all the
sounds and sensations wash over her. She had quite
lost track of time when she realised how hungry she
was. She saw from a chalked sign on a blackboard
propped against the door leading to the darkened in-
terior of the bar that grilled shark steak was on offer
that lunchtime. She called the waiter and ordered, and
once more fell into quiet contemplation of the sea.
'It seems a pity for an attractive woman to eat
alone. Won't you join us?'
71

Amber, woken from her day-dream, looked around
to see a thick-set man and a slim, petite girl seated at
another table close by. They must have come in while
she was lost in her dreams since she hadn't noticed
them before. The man smiled at her through his thick,
black beard which, Amber noted, was well flecked
with grey, and restated his invitation.
'Yes, please do join us. We are just about to eat,'
his companion urged.
Amber felt herself immediately attracted by the
couple. She followed her first impulse without stop-
ping to ponder and smiled and nodded her agree-
ment. Pushing back her chair she stood and walked
over to where they were sitting.
The bearded man stood to greet her and offered her
his hand, big as a grizzly bear's paw, which clasped
and engulfed her own.
'Hello. I'm Sal - short for Salvatore - but please
call me Sal,' drawing back a chair for Amber at the
table, 'and this is Fern.'	4
Fern extended a small, slim hand and the girls' fin-
gers touched briefly. A smile of greeting lit up her
narrow, boyish face. Amber introduced herself and
sat down.
The food arrived, hot and appetising. Sal ordered
a bottle of crisp, dry Frascati to accompany their
meal. Sal poured for himself and the girls and they
offered a toast to their chance meeting, clinking glass-
es and chuckling with good humour.
They talked as they ate. Sal, Amber learned, was in
the film-making business. He had been a director at
one time but now his main activities centred around
production, finding suitable stories and arranging
finance. Fern had starred in the last project he had
put together and it was proposed that she would also
72

have a large part in the venture Sal was now actively
planning. Amber mentioned that she had just finished
work on a short promotional shoot and confided to
her new friends how much she had enjoyed working
on her first speaking part. Sal smiled expansively
through his beard and nodded encouragingly.
'You know, you should try for more work real
soon. With your good looks and presence you'd cer-
tainly be a great success.'
'I don't think I could do that,' Amber responded a
little regretfully because the idea really had great ap-
peal for her. 'You see, the Network arranges all my
assignments.'
'You mean you're an Outlander? Sorry, no offence,
that's just what we Californians call people who come
from the outside. But you seem so relaxed and at
home here. Most visitors who experience life through
Reality Machines seem to be confused and overwhel-
med when they come here.'
'Well I had a good guide to initiate me when I first
arrived,' Amber replied, and mentioned Don's name.
'Hey, what do you know!' Sal's deep bass rumble
erupted as he turned, grinning, to Fern. 'Old Don.
You know I worked with him just about a year ago.
Yeah, he's a great guy. Must have shown you a great
time.'
'Oh, Don,' put in Fern, knowingly, 'yes, I know
him too. He's great fun. And good to work with too.'
The meal drew to a close and the trio lingered over
frothing cups of cappuccino. Fern ran her fingers
through her short cropped hair, which only served to
emphasise her boyish looks, and remarked. 'Look,
Amber, we're going to drive up towards Carmel this
afternoon. The coast up there is just breath-taking
and some of the small towns are really pretty. Sal
73

thinks that one he knows of may make a good loca-
tion for his next project, so we're going to scout it. If
you have no plans why don't you come with us?'
'Well,' Amber replied after a second's pause for
thought, 'I had thought I might spend the afternoon
sunbathing.'
'Oh no,' Fern pleaded, laying her hand lightly over
Amber's, 'you have such delicious creamy skin.
Everybody here has a tan, your complexion makes
you something special. Come with us instead.'
Faced with such a persuasive argument Amber
could only give in and agree to go with them. As they
got up to leave Amber realised for the first time what
a giant of a man Sal was. He towered above Fern. His
broad chest strained against his faded denim shirt and
thick tufts of grizzled hair escaped where the top but-
tons had been left unfastened. Amber found herself
speculating lewdly on just how this great bear of a
man and tiny, waif-like Fern could contrive to have
sex.	*
Sal led the way through the gloomy bar out to the
parking lot where their car was parked. He told Am-
ber with some show of pride that it was an exact
replica of a 1958 Cadillac Eldorado.
'But now with proton drive, it's so much quieter
and environmentally friendly,' he confided.
All three climbed into the car, spreading themselves
out along the bench seat in the front. The proton
drive engine whirred into life as Sal touched the
starter and they took off, leaving a tiny dust cloud
behind them to mark their passing.
The country up around Carmel was everything her
new-found friends had promised. The afternoon
passed by pleasantly in Sal and Fern's company, visit-
ing the small clusters of pastel-painted clapboard
74

houses that clung to the coastline and watching the
sea-birds and seals sporting in the ocean rollers. As
evening drew on the three of them drove back south-
ward and arrived at Amber's bungalow just as twi-
light resolved into the heavy darkness of night.
'Say, we're going to have dinner at a little place we
know just up the valley. We'd love to have you join
us.' Sal rumbled as Amber was stepping from the car.
'Yes, please come. We won't take "no" for an
answer,' Fern lent her support to the invitation.
By now Amber was feeling completely relaxed in
the company of her new friends. Indeed she was start-
ing to feel a slight sense of anticlimax at having to
leave them and so she accepted the invitation with
enthusiasm.
'We'll pick you up in a couple of hours. Is that
OK?' Fern shouted as the car was accelerating away.
She was out of earshot by the time Amber could call
back her agreement.
Amber hurried back to her bungalow and, throw-
ing off her clothes, dived under the shower. When she
emerged, feeling squeaky-clean and refreshed, she
found that Luis had anticipated her every require-
ment and had laid out a selection of evening clothes
for her. She was glad too that he seemed to have
made himself scarce. She was already beginning to
feel delightfully randy in anticipation of what might
happen that evening and if Luis had been there she
might have let herself get side-tracked into a tumble
with him. There just wasn't time and anyway, on the
whole, she would prefer not to have the edge taken
off her appetite.
She stood for a while in front of the mirror admir-
ing her body, dwelling on the generous heft of her
bosom, before taking up an atomiser to spray herself,
75

liberally with eau-de-toilette. She smiled to herself
when she recalled the salesgirl's words when she had
bought the perfume:
'Oh yes, madame. One is never truly naked if one
is wearing "Joy".'
She chose a lightweight bra from the three which
Luis had laid out on the bed, fitting her generous
bosom into the soft, elastic cups so that they were
compacted to smoothly rounded hillocks. She rolled
sheer black stockings over her long, smooth legs, clip-
ping them to a black garter belt girdled about her
hips.
She deliberated briefly and decided not to bother
with panties in anticipation of how the evening might
progress.
Finally she picked out a tight black jersey dress.
She tugged it over her head and drew it down over
her body, smoothing it over her hips and bottom. It
clung to her figure, emphasising her soft curves, stop-
ping at mid-thigh just below the tops of her stockings.
Fully dressed, Amber barely had time to refresh
her make-up and run a brush through her hair before
a tapping at the door announced Fern's arrival. She
slipped into the high-heeled shoes that Luis had left
ready for her and, tummy quivering in anticipation,
she walked to the door.
From the outside the restaurant did not appear to be
particularly special, just a low, whitewashed building
with a sign, 'Casa Pepe', picked out by a spotlight,
hanging over the double entrance doors. Inside, how-
ever, the subdued lighting, dark, comfortable furnish-
ings and the quiet attentiveness of the staff made for
a romantic and seductive atmosphere.
The trio were led to a table in a discreet booth that
76

afforded them total privacy from the other diners
who surrounded them. Fern took her seat next to
Amber, cosying up on the bench seat, while Sal
settled his bulk into a seat opposite the two girls.
The food was excellent and the rich red wine that
Sal ordered soon brought on a relaxing glow. All
three ate, drank and chatted, their talk punctuated by
laughter; all three totally at home in each other's
company.
The meal progressed and, as if by accident, Fern let
her hand drop over Amber's stockinged knee. When
no protest came, Fern let it lie there a while before,
becoming bolder, she began to stroke Amber's thigh
below the hem of her dress, lightly squeezing the silk-
sheathed flesh. This boldness was positively encour-
aged by a smile from Amber. Thus egged on, the
petite girl stroked higher, wriggling her fingers be-
neath the hem of Amber's dress to find warm bare
flesh above the soft ridge of the stocking top.
Amber stared straight ahead, trying to behave nor-
mally and carry on her conversation with Sal. All the
while Fern's hand on her flesh was starting to drive
her crazy with lust. She was thrilled at the outrage-
ousness of what was happening; she, sitting amidst all
these unsuspecting people, submitting to another
woman's intimate caresses.
Waiters hovered, clearing away plates and refilling
glasses while Fern persisted in fondling Amber's bare
thighs, her hand roving higher and higher, delving
between her victim's slightly parted inner thighs,
bunching the dress at the top of Amber's legs. Amber
found the whole thing deliciously naughty and excit-
ing, squirming her bottom to ease her companion's
access to her lower limbs. She shivered pleasurably
with illicit enjoyment when a waiter appeared with a
77

new bottle of wine. Surely he had seen what they were
doing? Surely he had glimpsed her bared thighs and
Fern's tiny hand buried between?
Fern burrowed even higher, murmuring approval
when her hand touched not fabric but bare skin and
the mossy fur that covered Amber's pubis. Amber
co-operatively raised herself for an instant, letting the
tautly stretched dress slip over her bottom, baring
herself below the waist. The warm velour of the seat
tickled her buttocks. Her way thus unencumbered,
Fern caressed Amber's abdomen and gently kneaded
the fleshy fur-covered mount. Amber's mind whirled
and her pulse quickened. Surely someone would see!
By the end of the meal, Fern's insistent fondling
and the excitement of possibly being overlooked had
brought Amber to a fever pitch. Fern took her hand
from where it nestled between her companion's
smooth ivory thighs and rummaged in her evening
bag.
'I think you're ready for these,' she whispered arch-
ly, placing a pair of small steel balls which were at-
tached one to the other by a silken cord, on the table
cloth in front of Amber. 'Here, let me . ..'
Even had she wished to protest, Fern's decisive ac-
tion forestalled it. Anyway, Amber was so aroused
she was beyond protest! The tiny hand dived again
between her legs, parting them to gain access to her
swollen-lipped sex. With sure fingers Fern inserted
the silvery balls between Amber's labia and gently
pushed them in. They slipped easily between the well
moistened lips to lodge in Amber's already over-
heated sex.
Sal heaved his bulk out of the booth and Fern
stood to one side to let Amber, who paused to pull
her dress back to a decent arrangement, slide along
78

the bench and stand herself. At once she felt the effect
of the tiny balls now lodged in her sex. Her slightest
movement was mirrored by a corresponding twitch of
those spheres, slipping against the walls of her
honey-dewed cunt and sending quivering sensations
of pleasure through her body.
On a cloud of bliss Amber followed her friends
through the crowded restaurant. She smiled happily
to herself in the secret knowledge of the thrills the
tiny balls sparked in her belly as she passed through
this unwitting crowd. By the time she was seated next
to Fern in the back of Sal's car her sex was awash and
she literally begged Fern to frig her to a climax.
With a smile the child-woman again parted her
friend's lower lips and lingeringly withdrew the balls,
coated with Amber's liberally flowing emissions, from
deep in her quim. Pushing Amber's skirt once more
above her waist she bared her lower body and with
gentle but firm strokes plunged her fingers into her
lover's pussy for the vigorous frigging she craved. It
needed very few strokes to send Amber over the edge
of bliss into a groaning, yelling climax as the open-
topped car sped through the night.
The rest of the journey was spent in a cloud of
sensual happiness, clasped to Fern's slender bosom,
sobbing with the power of her release. When the car
stopped Amber neither knew nor cared where she
was. She stepped from the car and let Fern lead her
by the hand into the house, which she assumed was
Sal's home.
Sal promptly disappeared and the two girls found
themselves alone in the main bedroom. Fern operated
a switch and hidden lights came on, illuminating their
surroundings.
Fern turned to face Amber, a gleam of lust glistening
79

in her eyes. She fumbled behind herself for her zip,
loosened it and stripped off her dress. She tugged at
her tights, pulling them off so that she stood naked
and panting with desire.
Without clothes she looked even more boyishly
juvenile. Her breasts were tiny and girlish, barely for-
med, each a soft undulation at her chest capped by a
broad, rosy areola and a passion-swollen nipple. She
put her arms about Amber, drawing her close, and
reached up to kiss her mouth. Her hands explored
Amber's back, looking for the zipper of her dress.
'It comes off over my head,' Amber mumbled, her
mouth still half-filled with her friend's tongue.
Fern stooped, took hold of the hem and drew the
dress over Amber's head and let it drop to the floor.
Almost in a continuous motion she reached behind
and unclasped the bra, letting the ripe flesh of Am-
ber's breasts spill out.
Arms about each other's waists, the two girls wal-
ked to the king-size bed that occupied the centre of
the room and settled on it, limbs entwined. Hands
groped pliant flesh and mouths and tongues sucked
and licked as the two explored each other in wanton
abandon.
'Mmmm, you're so beautiful,' Fern mumbled, her
mouth clamped over one of Amber's teats.
'You're lovely too,' Amber crooned in response as
a slim finger parted the lips of her sex and touched
the dampness that still persisted there.
Fern extricated herself from the tangle of limbs and
rolled on her side to rummage in the bedside cabinet.
When she rolled back her hand held a long, thick
tube of plastic, domed at the top. She touched the
base and the tube began to emit a shrill whirring
sound.
80

Amber's nipples still glistened with a coating of
Fern's saliva. With a mischievous grin the slender girl
applied the tip of the vibrator to her companion's
nipple, dabbling the throbbing plastic in the pool of
her own wetness. Amber groaned with pleasure as the
vibrations pulsed through her while Fern carefully
drew the device over her sensitive breasts. The elastic
flesh quivered and rippled as the vibrator played over
the massy globes, spreading a trail of saliva from
nipple to base.
Tantalisingly Fern worked the plastic tube with its
throbbing dome over Amber's sensitised skin, dipping
at her navel and working it over the mount, letting
the pulses stimulate her clitoris. Responding to gentle
hand pressure Amber rolled onto her tummy, presen-
ting her bottom for Fern's attention. The vibrator
throbbed over the ripe flesh before insinuating itself
between her buttocks, probing the tight sheaf of her
anus, sending a long, sexy shudder up her spine.
With another touch Fern coaxed Amber back to
lay supine, her legs sprawled apart to afford unhin-
dered access to her quim. Fern produced in her free
hand what appeared to be a piece of pink rubber with
a ribbed surface. Deftly she slipped it over the domed
end of the vibrator before presenting it to the lips of
her friend's sex.
Slowly, slowly she pushed the throbbing device into
Amber's willing sex. The ribs rippled over the sensi-
tive lips while the insistent pulsing spread through her
body until it seemed that nothing existed outside the
intensity of those throbbing sensations. Her whole
flesh seemed to be buzzing with the delicious sensa-
tions which soon found and invaded her clitoris.
Amber groaned and bit her lip as she rode the al-
most overwhelming waves of pleasure. Through the
81

mist of delight she could feel Fern working the device
back and forth in her channel, could dimly hear the
satisfying slurping of the vibrator churning her juices
in her overheated fanny.
Skilfully the waif-girl worked on her victim, build-
ing to the inevitable crescendo which, when it came,
Amber welcomed with a full-throated squeal of re-
lease.
When her head had cleared Amber reached out a
trembling hand to take the vibrator from Fern, intent
on returning pleasure for pleasure. The slender girl
smiled sweetly and shook her head:
'No, I'm too hot for that - it would be over too
soon and I want it to last,' she husked. 'Finger-fuck
me, darling - but slowly.'
Amber bent over her as Fern lay back, sprawling
her legs. She caressed the sparsely covered mount,
gently squeezing the fleshy pudenda before running a
finger lightly over her lover's nether lips. She in-
sinuated the tip of one finger between them, then
worked it inside up to the knuckle. A second and a
third finger followed to receive a coating of Fern's
musky, free-flowing juices.
Slowly at first but with increasing vigour Amber
frigged her lover's sex. Skilfully measuring her re-
sponse she excited Fern to the very brink of climax
then, as the sylph-like girl's breathing quickened and
her moans intensified, she drew her back from the
edge, making it last for her. Ultimately, however, she
judged that Fern could endure no more and worked
her to a thrashing, squealing climax.
They lay for a while, their sweat-filmed bodies clas-
ped together, until their breathing calmed. From be-
hind her Amber heard the deep, bass rumble of Sal's
voice:
82

'Mmm, my, you girls seem to be enjoying your-
selves.'
Amber rolled away from her companion to look up
at Sal who stood towering over her at the side of the
bed. Naked, he looked even more bear-like - his up-
per body covered in thick black hair which became
even thicker towards his groin. In his ursine paw he
lovingly cradled a breath-takingly huge erection that
to Amber seemed almost as thick as his forearm. She
shuddered pleasurably at the thought of trying to fit
it inside her.
Fern crawled close to her and half-whispered in her
ear, 'I hope you like to be fucked in the arse. Sal just
loves to do it in the arsehole.'
A look of horror clouded Amber's face. She had
just been contemplating taking Sal's oversize weapon
in her well-stretched quim with a mixture of pleasur-
able anticipation and dread, but the thought of his
thick rod rending her tight, unbreached bumhole was
beyond contemplation. An icy shudder ran up her
spine. Her lips worked but no sound except, 'No! . . .
no . . . I've never . . .' came forth.
Fern grinned up at her boyfriend, commenting,
'Your lucky night, Sal. Seems you've got a virgin
here,' and turning to Amber with a soft reassuring
tone:
'Oh, come on, you'll love it. Sal does it with me and
I adore it, and I'm sure I'm much tighter and smaller
than you. You'll be fine.'
Sal added to Fern's persuasive speech by placing a
hand on Amber's rump, coaxing her into the required
position. Smiling weakly Amber responded, easing
herself up on to hands and knees to present her bot-
tom to Sal.
'Attagirl. You'll love it, believe me,' Fern encouraged.
83

Amber, her eyes screwed shut in anticipation, felt
Sal's huge palms cup and mould her bum-cheeks. She
felt his fingers knead the firm flesh as he parted her
buttocks. She felt a thick finger probe the puckered
brown ring of her anus and felt a coolness as that
finger smeared a thick wad of oily jelly there.
The tip of Sal's finger probed inside her, stretching
her anus, lubricating the rectal channel. Then it was
inside her, buried in her fundament up to the third
knuckle joint. She felt it wriggle inside her. She purred
low, the sound growling deep in her throat, as Sal
worked his finger back and forth in the tightly clasping
tube. She pushed back against him, wriggling her bum.
Ts that good?' Sal's deep brown voice rumbled.
'Mmmm, that's good. So good,' Amber agreed
huskily.
Soon a second finger joined the first, opening her,
loosening her. Amber opened her eyes and watched
the image of herself and Sal reflected in a long mirror.
She watched fascinated, as if a spectator and not an
intimately concerned participant, as his hand thrust
in and out of her anus.
Fern wriggled beneath her and positioned her
mouth within reach of Amber's sex. Soon she was
licking hungrily over the dampened slit of her friend's
sex, probing with the tip of her tongue to lap at Am-
ber's distended clitoris, adding further sensations to
those produced by Sal's squirming fingers that were
wriggling in her bumhole.
With a distinct ^6plop', Sal withdrew his fingers and,
taking his heavy erection in one hand, presented it to
Amber's well lubricated bumhole. Parting the tiny
puckered ring of muscle he lodged the head of his
swollen gland there and, grasping her hips, lunged
into her rectum.
84

For long seconds Amber's whole being was filled
with an odd sensation and a red mist descended on
her. Then the discomfort was gone and the mist
cleared to be replaced by the delicious feeling of Sal's
huge, hot penis filling her up and slithering effortless-
ly back and forth in her tight bumhole.
Fern also did her part, lapping voraciously at her
partner's sex as Sal lunged above her, rogering Am-
ber's arse. Soon enough this treatment urged Amber
to a shuddering, squealing climax. As she came, her
anal tunnel clasped at Sal's engorged rod, milking
him, until a river of sperm flooded her fundament.
Thighs trembling from the intensity of her climax,
Amber collapsed on the bed, letting Sal's wilting
manhood slip from her well used anus. Sal, panting
with his exertions, collapsed beside her, shuddering
the bed and throwing a thick arm over Amber's
waist, drawing her to him.
They lay like that for a while until, recovering a
little, Amber began absently to explore Sal's body.
Her hand tangled in the abundant grizzled black hair
that covered his upper torso. It wandered lower, find-
ing the thick, resting length of his penis nestling at his
groin. Amber gave it a friendly squeeze and felt it
respond. Journeying downward she found the velvet
sac of his scrotum, weighed the testes on her palm
before returning to fondle the already thickening
shaft.
Rousing herself, Amber straddled Sal's trunk as he
lay on his back like a colossus, bending her head over
his uprearing phallus. She brought her lips to the
crown, kissed it and took it between her lips, grazing
the suave flesh with her teeth. She felt him twitch and
stiffen, the rod of flesh growing in her mouth. She
drooled spittle over the crown, used her hand to
85

smear the wetness over the swelling flesh till it glis-
tened. Opening her jaws she crammed her mouth full
of him, sucking at the throbbing core of this giant
who groaned with pleasure under her caress.
In the midst of these ministrations Amber became
aware of Fern standing beside the bed. Letting Sal's
swollen meat slip from between her pursed lips she sat
up, still straddling his midriff, and glanced with curi-
osity at the slender boyish figure. Her eyes widened as
she took in the heavy, flesh-coloured dildo that now
jutted from the sparse bush of pubic hair at Fern's
groin. With a playful grin, the gamine creature clas-
ped the thick stem and drew it away from her body.
With a most satisfying, glutinous slurping a second
shaft, equally as thick and as long as the one she held,
emerged from her sex. The dildo was double-ended.
'You see, darling. Fun for you and fun for me,' the
androgynous creature commented.
Amber understood at once and moved to position
herself over Sal's uprearing tool. She lowered herself,
gingerly at first, onto his ready flesh until she felt him
fully embedded in her. Luxuriously she gyrated her
hips, feeling Sal's rod probe every cranny of her sop-
ping tunnel. The gorgeous sensations of being cram-
med full of such divine man-meat nearly had her
fainting with ecstasy.
Nevertheless, knowing there was more to come, she
controlled herself and bent forward, letting her swol-
len nipples brush the coarse hairy mat on Sal's chest.
His great paws clasped her breasts, kneading and
squeezing the tender flesh. Amber let out a tiny yelp
of delight, urging him to squeeze harder.
In this position the cheeks of her bottom were well
splayed, showing her already dilated anus to little
Fern. The slender girl needed no bidding but climbed
86

lightly onto the bed and thrust her assumed weapon
easily into Amber's arsehole. Now doubly filled, Am-
ber could feel Sal's thick, rampant meat and Fern's
dildo almost touching inside her through the thin
membrane that separated fundament from woman-
hood.
So the weird sex-beast gyrated on the bed. Amber
squealed lustily as wave after wave of orgasm broke
over her. Fern, too, ramming the rubber tool in her
lover's bottom reaped pleasure in proportion to her
efforts as the shaft embedded in her quim responded
to the energy of her thrusts. Sal, of course, was in
heaven beneath the heaving womanly flesh that clas-
ped his tool, milking his seed from him, which he
spent liberally in womb-filling draughts deep in Am-
ber's loins.
Thus deep into the night they pleasured themselves
and each other. Fern yielded the dildo to Amber who
in her turn buggered Sal vigorously while enjoying a
self-induced climax of her own - until they slumped
in an exhausted heap of well pleasured flesh and slept
where they lay.
87

6
Simon took Allan the hotel manager's friendly advice
and spent the first day of his vacation rather quietly,
so as to acclimatise himself gradually to the many
unfamiliar experiences that waited in store for him.
He kept to his room for most of the day, only ven-
turing out towards evening to stroll by the ocean as
the great rollers smashed onto the sands in the
gathering gloom. The rest of the time he spent pleas-
uring himself on Anita's soft, brown-skinned body or
drowsing in her arms in a torpor of satisfied passion.^
Between bouts of love-making Simon also used
Anita to satisfy his growing curiosity about Califor-
nian life in general and about Fantasyworld in par-
ticular. Certainly, he had found that the implant of
information that he had received while he slept had
made him instantly familiar with many things which
beforehand would have been new and strange to him,
coming from a world where experience was obtained
at second hand through the medium of the Reality
Machines. This small fund of knowledge, coupled
with the sensual delights he had already experienced,
simply made him greedy to learn more. Each fresh
piece of knowledge, it seemed, sparked off a new line
of enquiry. Each new revelation made him eager for
yet more information with which to piece together a
fuller understanding of the alluring world he had just
88

entered. Questions tumbled from him, all of which
Anita answered with apparent candour, never once
shirking a response.
In this way Simon learned from her how, when the
rest of the world submitted to government by the
Network, the people of California chose instead to
remain aloof. Maybe it was, as Anita opined, the old
pioneering spirit of self-sufficiency of the early set-
tlers, their forebears. For whatever reason, society on
the western coast of the old United States developed
along radically different lines to that in the rest of the
world. Now, as Anita seemed at pains to emphasise,
California was the only place on the planet where the
Network did not reach out and control. Californians
exercised free choice in all their actions and were their
own people. This aspect of their way of life was most
aptly illustrated by the total absence of the Reality
Machines from their society.
Anita became quite emphatic as she told over these
aspects of Californian life. Simon for his part felt a
twinge of jealousy when he compared his own regi-
mented and sensually deprived life to the delights that
Californians regarded, according to Anita, as normal-
ity.
By the morning of the second day Simon felt him-
self to be so well attuned to his new environment that
he was anxious to get out and experience some more
of this fine and attractive world of reality. Having
been confined, albeit voluntarily and in most satisfac-
tory company, to his hotel suite, he felt an urge to get
out in the fresh air, to feel the sun warming him and
to indulge in some vigorous exercise. When Anita
suggested that he might care to play tennis, it seemed
just the thing.
Riding the elevator down to the hotel's sports
89

complex, Simon found that he had a full knowledge
of the game, although, of course, he had never played
in his life before. In his mind's eye he rehearsed an
imaginary game, playing powerful and classic shots
across the net to an unseen adversary. When the
elevator finally came to a halt and the doors opened,
breaking in on his daydream, he found that he was
even sweating lightly from the imagined action.
Inside the sports complex Simon found a changing
room already prepared for him. He exchanged his
clothes for the tennis whites that he found, neatly
folded, waiting for him. He was now so used to the
way of things in Fantasyworld that he did not even
stop to marvel that the shorts, shoes and the white
short-sleeved shirt complete with its small crocodile
logo over the left breast, should not only fit him per-
fectly but should feel so familiar and well-used to
him. It was as if he had worn the same outfit again
and again whenever he had played.
He picked up the pair of racquets that had lain
beside the tennis clothes. They came easily to hand
and felt exactly right - well balanced and tautly strung
- when he tried out a couple of tentative strokes, the
taut catgut swishing through the empty air. Placing
them under one arm he pulled the changing room
door closed behind him and strolled over to the recep-
tion desk by the entrance to the tennis courts.
The pretty brunette who was seated at the desk
looked up on his approach and smiled a welcome.
'Good morning. How are you? Can I arrange a
partner for you to play? Or would you prefer a coach-
ing session with one of the professionals?'
Without thinking, purely on impulse, Simon
answered that he would like someone to play against.
The brunette smiled again.
90

'Oh good. This lady is looking for a game. Would
you care to play with her?'
Simon turned in the direction of the young
woman's glance and found himself face to face with
a finely built woman dressed in a short tennis dress,
the pleated skirt brushing sturdy thighs and revealing
dimpled knees. Her pleasant, round face was framed
by fair hair which was cut short in a pageboy style.
She smiled, showing even white teeth and held out her
hand.
'Hello. I'm Lynda. I normally play with one of the
coaches but today I felt like some fresh opposition.
Would you care for a game?'
Simon took the proffered hand and murmured that
he would be delighted. With this briefest of introduc-
tions he placed himself in Lynda's charge, letting
himself be led out onto the court.
Several couples already occupied the tennis courts
which stood between the hotel and the beach, shel-
tered from the sea-breeze by a stand of young palms.
The air was busy with the sound of balls smacking
against racquets and the calls of the players keeping
score or commenting on the run of play.
Simon screwed up his eyes as he walked out into
the bright sunlight. Automatically he felt in his breast
pocket and found a pair of dark glasses. He slipped
them on and took his place at one end of the court,
facing his opponent.
For a few minutes they knocked up, lobbing the
ball across the net with lazy strokes, sizing each other
up but not yet competing, Simon was pleasantly sur-
prised to find that his imagined familiarity with the
game was proven by reality. As Lynda increased the
force behind her volleys he found that he could return
the ball with ease. In his turn he knocked a couple of
91

forceful services over the net and still had plenty of
opportunity to enjoy the sight of his opponent's suc-
culent figure beneath the skimpy tennis dress.
When they began to play in earnest, however, Sim-
on found that he was not quite so adept at the game
as he had thought. Lynda proved herself to be an
accomplished and aggressive player and it was largely
Simon's youth and fitness that carried him through.
As it turned out, he managed to win the first set, but
it was a close-run thing.
By the second set he was beginning to lose his con-
centration and his initial freshness. Lynda's superior
stroke play began to tell and Simon found his con-
centration begin to wander as the short skirt swirled
above her shapely thighs, providing tantalising
glimpses of well filled white briefs. Very quickly Sim-
on was reduced to defending himself against an on-
slaught of attacking play and Lynda emerged as the
easy winner of the set to tie the match.
The third set was almost a foregone conclusion
from the outset. Simon was put on the defensive from
the start as Lynda kept him pinned to the baseline
with a series of powerful and penetrating strokes.
Simon almost gave a sigh of relief when, very quickly,
Lynda made sure of the set and the match with a
thundering return to Simon's rather lame service.
Recruiting what seemed to be his last reserves of
energy, Simon trotted to the net to shake Lynda's
outstretched hand. He noticed a small bead of per-
spiration clinging to her upper lip. A waft of her per-
fume mingled with more intimate scents came to him
across the net. She gave him a coy smile, seemed to
lower her eyes.
Thank you for a stimulating game. I do hope I may
have the chance to make amends for defeating you.'
92

At the time Simon dismissed the remark as just a
rather stilted way of proposing a return match. He
mumbled, as he thought, a fitting but non-committal
response and turned to follow his vanquisher back
into the changing rooms.
'When we've showered and changed perhaps we
can share a drink on the terrace. Then we can get to
know each other a little better,' Lynda suggested in a
soft, pleasantly lilting voice.
'Mm, yes. That would be nice,' Simon agreed, be-
ginning to feel a little less fatigued. The aching in his
calves and shoulder muscles was starting to subside.
He was beginning to feel, he had to admit, just pleas-
antly tired, and relaxing with a drink in agreeable
company was a very attractive proposition. With a
nod and a smile he began to turn away to find his
own changing room.
'There's plenty of room in here,' Lynda's voice
stopped him in his tracks. 'We could share, if you
don't object,' she added knowingly.
There was no need for discussion. Simon turned
and followed her into the changing room which was
indeed quite roomy enough for a couple to undress in
comfort. He was not at all surprised to find that his
clothes had already been moved and were there,
ready and waiting for him.
Lynda stripped off the tennis dress, letting it lay
where it fell on the tiled floor. The skimpy briefs
which she had worn beneath followed. Naked, her
milky skin seemed to glow from the exertion of the
game, gleaming under a slick film of sweat. Simon
caught himself admiring the heft of her well develop-
ed bosom. She turned and with a jiggle of firmly
rounded buttocks disappeared into the shower.
Once more Simon experienced that feeling of deja
93

vu which seemed to be becoming a regular occur-
rence. Then, again, he understood that here was an-
other of his cherished fantasies being acted out in the
flesh for his express edification. Lynda's voice from
the shower broke in on his thoughts: 'Come on in
darling. I need you to do my back.'
Without a second's hesitation Simon shucked off
his clothes and stepped beneath the steaming stream
of water in the shower cubicle. He took the tablet of
perfumed soap that Lynda held out to him over her
shoulder and worked it in his hands. Firmly he spread
the creamy lather over Lynda's skin, gently kneading
the flesh of her shoulders and spreading the soapy
bubbles over her back. His hands moulded her waist,
caressed the flare of her hips and descended to cup
the taut hemispheres of her buttocks. A low growl
from deep in her throat witnessed to his companion's
complete satisfaction with his efforts.
Lynda turned, letting the water play over her
back, and took the soap from Simon's hands. She
too rolled it in her palms, working it into a rich
lather which she spread lingeringly over Simon's
well muscled chest, her fingers ruffling the matted
hairs. Slowly, luxuriously, her hands worked over
his torso, falling inexorably to the confluence of his
thighs.
Inevitably, Simon's penis had grown to a ramrod
stiffness, jutting beneath his belly and straining up-
wards towards Lynda's navel. She grasped the root
with soapy hands. Under her gently tantalising
squeeze he seemed to pulse and grow even stiffer, his
weapon attaining its fullest extent. Lynda looked into
his eyes, a grin of pleasure like the Cheshire Cat's on
her lips as she slowly soaped the shaft, running her
lather-filled palms up and down its straining length.
94

She held him about midway along its length, deli-
cately using the tips of her fingers. She drew him to
her, nuzzling the engorged crown against the thick fur
that covered her pubis. With a slight circular motion
she began to rub the thick, throbbing rod against her-
self, burying the tip in the silken mat of her pubic
hair. Slowly she increased the area of this circular
motion until Simon's penis was clasped against the
soft flesh of her abdomen while she pressed herself
against him.
She released him and put her arms about him,
drawing him to her, pressing their soaking bodies to-
gether. Instinctively Simon's hands found the firm
half-moons of her bottom, moulding the flesh and
pulling her to him to crush her belly against his swol-
len manhood.
They kissed, open mouthed, her tongue exploring
wetly inside his mouth, noisily sucking on his tongue.
Slowly they eased down until, soaking flesh slipping
easily on soaking flesh, they lay on the floor of the
shower, letting the warm soapy water cascade over
them.
Simon's hands found Lynda's passion-firmed
breasts, squeezed and kneaded the ripe, yielding
mounds. With an easy motion she drew him on top
of her, opening her thighs with a half grunted, half
mumbled invitation. Simon mounted her easily, his
solid shaft slipping smoothly into her. He felt her
cunt lips feed him into her sex, felt the muscular walls
of her cavern clasp hungrily at his manhood.
All hint of tiredness ebbed from him now as he
rutted at her vigorously, thrashing wildly about in the
warm, soapy water. Lynda hugged him to her using
arms and legs to deepen penetration to the utmost.
With a lusty howl of pleasure she signalled her climax
95

just as Simon unleashed a torrent of semen into her
thirsty maw.
Later they relaxed together on the terrace overlook-
ing the sea, enjoying the warm late-morning sun on
their faces and sipping margaritas. They chatted idly,
relaxed in each other's company, as the warm glow of
contentment arising from their recent encounter in
the shower worked on them.
Simon soon knew that Lynda lived with her hus-
band a few miles inland, along the valley which
opened to the sea just by the hotel. It seemed that
Lynda's husband, Julius, was a doctor - of what sort,
medical or otherwise or if he would have an adverse
opinion of his having sex in a changing room shower
with his wife, Simon did not enquire.
Soon enough the pitcher of margaritas and their
glasses stood empty, signalling that Simon and Lynda
would soon be forced to go their separate ways.
Lynda, draining her glass, turned to Simon and
placed a soft, well manicured hand over his.
'You know, I've just had a marvellous idea. Why
not come to dinner this evening? It will be just the
three of us.'
Simon wondered just how he might get along with
Lynda's husband. She sensed his hesitation and
guessed the cause.
'Oh you'll get on fine with Julius. And well, later,
he'll be no bother. He likes to bury himself in his
study most evenings after dinner. Do please come.'
Her final words were delivered in a most deliciously
beseeching tone which, even had he been so inclined,
Simon would have found impossible to refuse. Of
course, on the contrary, he agreed.
'That's wonderful,' Lynda went on enthusiastically.
96

'I hope I shall be allowed to atone for my misconduct
then - you know - for beating you at tennis.'
There it was again. That mention of making
amends, but now definitely not an invitation to a re-
match on the tennis court. Simon felt a frisson of
pleasurable excitement as he almost caught a glimmer
of the true meaning of her words. Lynda squeezed his
hand beneath hers.
Then you'll come about eight. We always dress
formally for dinner. That won't be a problem for you,
will it?'
Simon agreed that formal dress would be fine, as-
suming that his capacious but virtually unexplored,
wardrobe would be equal to the challenge. He helped
Lynda to her feet and escorted her to her tiny red
sports-car in the hotel parking lot. She, kissing him
lightly on the mouth, climbed in and roared off up the
valley road.
That evening, sharp at eight o'clock, a taxi deposited
Simon at the foot of the shingle drive that led up to
Lynda and her husband's secluded house. He paused
in the gathering gloom to look over the rambling
brick pile with its mock Gothic tower and its general
air of massive spaciousness. He started up the drive,
the crunch of his shoes on the gravel path sounding
crisply in the silent air.
Simon's wardrobe had indeed proved itself equal to
the demands of formal dinner dress. He now wore an
elegantly tailored black tuxedo over a crisp white
dress-shirt. A bow-tie, expertly fastened by Anita's
deft fingers, completed his look of formal elegance.
His host, a short, balding man whose undistin-
guished features borrowed a certain distinction from
a grizzled goatee beard that sprung from his chin,
97

greeted him warmly, almost effusively. Simon felt
somewhat abashed in the secret knowledge, as he sup-
posed, that a few hours earlier he had rogered this
pleasant and welcoming man's wife. However he was
not allowed much time to reflect on this uncomfort-
able topic but was ushered into the wood-panelled
and portrait-hung dining-room.
Simon accepted the glass of dry sherry which he
was offered and he and Dr Julius stood for a few
minutes making small talk until, with hardly a sound
to mark her coming, Lynda joined them.
She was dressed in a tight sheath of green taffeta
that moulded her pleasingly ample figure to perfec-
tion. Simon's eyes were unerringly drawn to the deep-
ly revealing neckline which showed off her alabaster
bosom to good advantage, the pliant mounds nestling
like young birds in a downy nest. Chastely she offered
her cheek to Simon and, blushing despite himself, he
honoured it with the merest touch of his lips.
Once more Dr Julius played the perfect host, re-
freshing Simon's glass and revitalising the conversa-
tion which had lapsed with Lynda's arrival.
At last they sat at table, Simon seated between his
host and Lynda. They were served by an unobtrusive
servant who glided in and out of the room at regular
intervals, serving food and wine and clearing away as
needed. Always there, always correct but totally
ignored.
The food and the wine were delicious, the talk en-
gaging and diverting. Simon, however, hardly noticed
any of this, being on the one hand unsettled by the
delightful proximity of Lynda's charming form and
on the other being uncomfortably aware of the close
proximity of her husband. It seemed to him that
Lynda was taking every opportunity to blatantly flirt
98

with him under the very eyes of her husband. Regu-
larly she contrived to brush his hand with hers. Often
he felt a stockinged foot graze the bare skin of his
ankle. At his every remark Lynda inclined towards
him, wafting heady draughts of her perfume to assail
his senses while proffering expanses of white flesh to
enchant his gaze.
Finally the meal was finished and coffee had been
served and drunk. Decisively Dr Julius pushed back
his chair and stood up.
'I am sure you will excuse me. I always make it a
habit to put in at least a couple of hours of work
before retiring - it is the only way to keep up with the
demands of my research. Lynda will be pleased to
entertain you while, regretfully, I make myself
scarce.'
So saying he held out his hand to the astonished
Simon, and having shaken hands perfunctorily,
turned on his heels and abruptly left the room.
Through the half closed door came the sound of his
light footsteps ascending the stairs.
'There,' Lynda began, taking Simon's hand in both
of hers, 'I told you Julius would not get in the way.
Now, I believe, I have a debt to pay you.'
At last, Simon really understood the meaning of
those references to 'making amends' that had so lit-
tered their talk that day. He felt his penis begin to
stiffen already in anticipation of the events that were
about to unfold.
'But, please, I must ask you,' Lynda resumed in a
quiet, almost subdued tone, with downcast eyes,
'Please do not beat me. My flesh marks so easily and
I have a low tolerance of pain. I will gladly suffer any
humiliation, but spare me a beating.'
Simon knew his part as if learned by heart and
99

slipped easily into it. He withdrew his hand and re-
torted harshly, 'You are neither correctly clothed nor
properly postured to beg for lenience. On your knees,
wretch.'
Humbly and with the softest voice, Lynda respon-
ded, 'Yes. Yes of course. At once.'
She stood and, reaching behind her, drew down the
fastener of the tight emerald green dress and slipped
it off. Beneath she wore a white satin wasp-waist cor-
set that clasped tightly about her midriff to leave her
firm, heavy breasts, her buttocks and abdomen bare.
Long suspender straps descended from the corset,
attaching to white stockings that emphasised the
sturdy shapeliness of calf and thigh. She dropped to
her knees and with head bowed, repeated her request
in a soft voice:
'I beg you most humbly and contritely to punish
me as you wish. I beg you to make me suffer whatever
humiliation you see fit. But please, if you will, please
spare me from a beating or any physical pain.'
Simon got to his feet and slipped off his jacket. In
this position her face was exactly level with his groin.
'We shall see what you deserve! Now, use your
mouth to please me in whatever poor way you can,'
he commanded gruffly.
Lynda bent lower and, loosening his shiny, patent
leather shoes, slipped them from his feet. She re-
moved the silk socks, leaving him barefoot, before
reaching up to loose the waistband of his trousers.
She drew them and the briefs beneath down Simon's
legs, easing the garments over his swelling erection
which bobbed menacingly up and down as it popped
above the elastic waistband. Simon stepped out of the
clothes which pooled at his feet and pushed them to
one side with a brusque movement.
100

Lynda bent low again, running her tongue over
Simon's bare feet in an act of self-abasement and sub-
mission. She lapped over the instep before probing
wetly between each toe, her lips reverently kissing his
feet. Simon, tiring of this, signalled with a slight
motion of his foot and Lynda again brought her face
level with his now fully tumescent manhood.
She cradled his balls in the palm of one hand,
steadying the shaft with the other. Tentatively she put
out her tongue, licking over the crimson velvet crown,
making it slick and shiny with her spittle. Gradually
she progressed down the shaft then, forming her lips
into an 'O', she drew the rod of flesh into her mouth.
Her tongue coiled about the throbbing flesh. Her
cheeks bulged with its thickness as she sucked on him,
letting the tip probe into her jaws.
Shortly, Simon felt himself about to erupt. He gras-
ped Lynda's head, pulling her roughly to him, forcing
his hugeness into, her throat and allowed a stream of
creamy goo to spurt from him into her mouth. He
pushed her from him, his convulsing member slipping
from her lips in time for a second jet off his semen to
splash into her face. Warm droplets clung like pearls
to her hair and splashed over her nose and eyelids.
Lynda stayed perfectly still as the creamy effusion still
flowed from the jerking rod, splashing over her shoul-
ders and her breasts. When his climax stilled, she bent
forward to lick the last vestige of the creamy flood
from the wilting tip of his manhood.
A high-backed leather armchair, one of a pair
which flanked the fireplace, stood just behind him.
Simon flopped back into it and curtly ordered Lynda
to get to her feet.
She stood, teetering a little on high heels that had
the effect of pertly thrusting out her well formed
101

buttocks, and faced him, head bowed. Silently he
looked her over, enjoying the sight of her pink, fair
flesh sullied by his spend. He motioned her to turn
and ran his eyes over her back and buttocks, examin-
ing her charming form in minute detail. For the first
time he noticed a small tattoo on her left flank just
where the thigh flares into the meaty lower lobe of the
buttock. He leaned forward to inspect it more closely
and found that it was the image of a naked girl en-
twined by a snake and chained hand and foot.
Lounging in the chair again he noticed that the
corset which bit tightly into her flesh was secured by
a small gold padlock.
At his command Lynda turned to face him again.
Simon noticed with satisfaction that her cheeks
seemed to have coloured with embarrassment and her
downcast gaze sought to avoid his own stern regard.
His fertile imagination at once suggested how he
might next seek to humiliate his victim.
'I expect you like to pleasure yourself when you are
alone,' he began. 'Is that so?'
'Yes. Yes, I do,' Lynda replied softly.
'Then you may do so for my pleasure. Take that
and frig yourself until you come. But take care that I
see everything. You understand?' And he indicated a
long, thick cucumber that lay among the leavings of
their meal.
Lynda did not demur but took the long, green, im-
promptu dildo in one fist and seated herself in the
chair facing Simon. She sprawled in the chair, her legs
splayed wide to show her already drooling sex openly
to Simon's view. She reached down and extended a
carmine-tipped index finger to probe at her sex, part-
ing the lips, dabbling in her own freely flowing juices.
With a leisurely motion, a look of pure enjoyment on
102

her face, she smeared the honey-thick moisture over
her nether lips until they shone slickly in the soft
candlelight. At intervals she paused to pay special at-
tention to her clitoris, lovingly caressing the tiny
brown bud that emerged between the swollen lips of
her sex.
Simon automatically took his own sex in the palm
of his hand, felt it twitch and begin to grow. In a flat
tone he commanded, 'Speak to me. Tell me what
you're doing, you slut. Tell me how it feels. Put it in
you, now.'
Lynda drew her legs up, placing her feet on the seat
of the chair, parting her thighs wide to let Simon see
everything. She reached down between them, using
one hand to part her lips, the other to offer the cool,
green shaft to her quim.
'Yes, yes,' she husked urgently. 'I'm putting it in
.. . The tip is already in me, pushing my lips apart.'
Slowly she began to feed it into her sopping
womanhood.
'Oooh! That's good . . . Aaah. It's half-way in. I
can feel it filling me up. It's so stiff, so solid. I'm going
to push it right in - right to the top of my cunt, right
to the womb. Mmmm, oooh!'
And inexorably the thick cucumber slipped inside
her until with a gasp of satisfaction from Lynda, its
whole length lodged inside her.
'Oh, yesss! I can feel my juices coating it. I'm going
to fuck myself with it. Work it in my cunt.'
With a slight twisting motion she began to draw it
from her. Half-way out she paused, then shoved the
whole length back in. Her pace quickened and soon
she was plunging the cucumber in and out of herself
while she kept up her lewd commentary between
gasps and groans of animal enjoyment.
103

Soon she had edged herself to the brink of her cli-
max. Her head thrashed wildly, her eyes were tightly
shut.
'Ooh, ungh!' as the green shaft again disappeared
inside her. 'Aah, aah! I'm coming! It's so good,' she
whispered lewdly, as her free hand desperately
squeezed at one big, firm breast.
Her body became rigid and she quivered from head
to toe, her cunt squeezing the cucumber which was
stuffed firmly inside her and she squealed at the top
of her lungs as finally she came.
Simon was startled from his rapt enjoyment of this
lascivious scene by the sound of ironic applause and
his host's sardonic tones:
'Well done, my friend. I see you have been putting
the bitch through her paces.'
He turned to see Dr Julius framed in the doorway.
He had exchanged his formal evening clothes for a
long, black velour robe. With his balding head and
short beard he resembled an old-time Spanish graji-
dee, calling to mind echoes of the Inquisition. Simon
scrambled to his feet, making an ineffectual attempt
to cover his nakedness. With a soft chuckle Dr Julius
continued:
'Come, come, my dear young friend. There is no
need to be alarmed. You must realise that I am well
aware of Lynda's nature.' Here he gestured to her
and obediently she got out of the seat and stood be-
side him, head bowed.
'You must have noticed my mark upon her, token-
ing her complete submission,' and he gestured to the
erotic tattoo on her thigh. 'It is an especial pleasure
for me, so to speak, to share her with a young man
like yourself who promises to become a true adept in
the art. To watch and assist you as you become more
104

and more aware of the pleasures she can afford as
you extend the bounds of your experience, and push
her to her limits.'
This speech at once allayed Simon's fears and he
relaxed, drawing himself upright, eager to know what
was to happen next.
Julius continued in a light tone, gesturing towards
the silent Lynda. T trust this slave has been totally
obedient. She has not, for example, begged to be
spared the lash - as is her due desert.'
Simon found his voice again, feeling comforted by
the air of collusion that his host's distinctly friendly
remarks had created, and affirmed that Lynda had
indeed sought to avoid physical chastisement.
Julius wagged his head in mock exasperation and
turned his penetrating blue eyes on his wife who still
stood close by him in the same attitude of contrition.
'It is merely a disobedient ploy. She really craves
punishment and only uses that device to enrage and
exasperate. Is that not true, my dear?'
Lynda's response was to wince and conjure up a
look of mild anguish.
Julius continued to address her, his hand idly
reaching out to cup one of her firmly massy breasts
as he spoke.
'What shall it be tonight? You have certainly been
naughty enough to deserve it, from what I heard of
your adventures in the showers with my young friend
today. Is that not so?' and he tightened his grip on
the yielding flesh sharply, drawing a yelp of pain from
his victim. Lynda stammered her agreement.
'Shall we whip these juicy tits with a riding crop?
You know how you love that.'
Lynda shuddered, her eyes widened with horror
and her lips framed the word 'No', but no sound
105

came from her. Julius squeezed harder on the globe
of flesh beneath his hand, drawing the breast into a
taut cone.
'No. You are right. We shall save that pleasure for
another time. Tonight I think we shall try the tawse.
It is quite her favourite medicine.' This last was to
Simon with an arch twinkle. 'Off you go and fetch the
instrument.'
Lynda turned and left the room. During her ab-
sence Julius handed Simon a robe, the twin of his own,
opining that he would find it both more comfortable
and of greater amenity for the exercises to come. Sim-
on just had time to strip off the last of his evening
clothes and to slip on the robe before Lynda returned
bearing a short length of supple leather - the tawse.
Julius took it from her and held it up for Simon to
examine, flexing it to demonstrate the suppleness of
the material. With a few more words extolling its* vir-
tues as an instrument of chastisement Julius handed
Simon the tawse. Lynda, who had stood to one side,
wearing an expression of distinct trepidation at the
thought of what she was about to suffer, now moved
to take up her proper position. She seemed to need
no prompting or instruction, but knelt on the edge of
one of the leather armchairs, bracing herself with out-
stretched arms against the chair back. She bent for-
ward, arching her back to push her well fleshed rump
out to receive her punishment.
Simon took up his position and laid his hand on
the warm, quivering flesh of Lynda's bottom, feeling
the muscles tense in anticipation. He laid the tawse
over the same spot his hand had caressed, gauging his
stroke. He drew back and smacked the leather strap
smartly on her right buttock, watching the leather fin-
gers splay out with force of the impact.
106

Lynda threw back her head and gave a yelp of pain
and surprise. She glanced over her shoulder at her
tormentor, her lips still forming the 'Oh' of her
pained gasp. Despite the look of anguish that clouded
her face, Simon caught a glint of arousal in her eye.
He noticed with satisfaction that a distinct red mark,
about the size of his palm, had already appeared
where tawse and flesh had collided.
Choosing his target to ensure that every portion of
Lynda's fine derriere received equal attention, he laid
five more strokes over her quivering arse. Each stac-
cato impact of leather on flesh was followed by a
sharp squeal of pain and then a low groan, deep in
his victim's throat. After the five, Simon stood back
to admire the effect of his handiwork.
'You see,' remarked Julius, 'her bum is already col-
ouring up delightfully.'
Indeed Lynda's nether cheeks were already blush-
ing with a ruddy hue. She winced as Julius ran his
hand over her glowing nates, testing the heat.
'Now my friend, lay on with a will. Really make
her sting.'
Simon needed no other encouragement and began
to beat a steady tattoo on poor Lynda's upturned
fesses. The sight of her ample buttocks squirming un-
der the blows, the sound of her squeals as leather met
aching flesh excited him to yet further exertions. He
felt his blood race and his penis began to grow hard
and erect beneath the loose-fitting gown.
At last Lynda's yells and sighs of pain turned to
deep sobs which shuddered her frame, quivering her
breasts as they dangled beneath her. Copious tears
flowed down her cheeks. Her tortured bottom was
now one mass of fiery red. Simon stayed his hand.
'Magnificent, my friend! See the colour of those
107

cheeks. See how she squirms and sobs,' Julius en-
thused, his voice thick with lust as he let his robe slip
from him. Beneath he was naked and vigorously
erect, his thick weapon jutting straight out beneath
his flat, hard belly.
At the touch of his hand on her bare thigh, Lynda
moved to one side, allowing him to seat himself be-
neath her. With a fluent motion she straddled his
thighs and lowered herself onto him, engulfing his
tool in a steady downward motion. A blissful sigh
escaped her lips as she settled on her husband's man-
hood, feeling it probe deep inside her fluid sex.
'Now, young man. Again. Show her no mercy.'
At his bidding, Simon laid on again, thrashing
poor Lynda's aching fesses with all the force he could
muster. She, in response, squealed and sobbed 'and
squirmed upon the thick rod of flesh buried inside
her. Julius grasped her juddering tits, squeezing and
kneading her flesh as with each stroke of the tawse
the muscles of her sex clasped him tighter.
It was with some relief that Simon heard his men-
tor, at last, direct, 'Enough now. Take her in the arse-
hole. Quickly!'
Simon eagerly dropped the tawse and threw the
robe from him. Roughly he grasped Lynda's bum-
cheeks, peeling them apart and easing his fierce erec-
tion deep into her rectum until he could feel the heat
from those tortured buttocks against his belly. He
clasped her waist and began slowly to work his tool
in her anal channel, giddily aware of his companion's
thick erection burrowing in her cunt and separated
from him by the thickness of a membrane.
Lynda was now beyond all pain. As Simon's belly
slapped against her aching posterior and her husband
squeezed her breasts without mercy she rode a cloud
108

of pleasure, yelling as climax after climax swept
through her. Through the thin partition that separ-
ated them Simon felt his host begin to spend and with
relief, he too, unleashed an answering torrent of
semen into Lynda's anus.
When the three of them recovered their senses from
the intensity of their respective climaxes the two men
stripped their victim naked. Lynda was made to stand
before them, their jism leaking from her quim and her
anus, as they admired her glowing fesses, commented
on the marks left by the tight-fitting corset and on the
way she had endured her punishment. Then she was
sent to fetch champagne for their refreshment and
made to wait on them for the rest of the evening while
Julius regaled his protege with bawdy talk.
At last, a taxi was summoned to convey the ex-
hausted Simon back to his hotel. On the threshold,
Julius clasped his hand warmly and thanked him for
that evening's fine sport. With his new friend's hopes
for further mutual adventures ringing in his ears Sim-
on took his leave, stepping out into the still, velvet
midnight air.
109

6
'If you change your mind about trying for more work
out here, remember to give me a call. You've got the
number?' Sal rumbled as he held the car door for
Amber to get out in front of her hotel.
An hour or so earlier, at just about midday, Amber
had awoken from an exhausted sleep, in a tangle of
limbs on Sal's devastated bed. Amber and her com-
panions had dragged themselves from the heap of
crumpled sheets, refreshed themselves with a quick
shower and grabbed a hasty bite of breakfast. After
that they had piled into Sal's car for the trip back to
the beach resort and now it was time for fond good-
byes while the trio lingered in the hotel forecourt.
'Like I explained, I don't think that will be poss-
ible. Which is a pity. But the Network gives us direc-
tion and we must obey.'
'Aw, it doesn't seem natural or quite right to de-
pend on some electronic nanny to run your life. Sure-
ly it must be possible to break away from all of that?
Haven't others tried before?'
'Well if they have I haven't heard about it. Obedi-
ence seems to be ingrained in all of us now,' Amber
replied with a rueful look.
'Please say you'll at least think about the possibility
of staying on here,' pleaded Fern, slipping a slender
arm about Amber's waist and drawing her close so
110

they stood hip to hip. 'With your looks and person-
ality you'd make out fine. You owe it to yourself,' she
persuaded.
Amber just shook her head sadly. The notion defi-
nitely had appeal but, as yet, the concept of breaking
with the Network and what it stood for was still too
new and foreign for her to treat it seriously. Fern
pursued her point relentlessly:
'Anyway, while you're here you could at least work
on building up a few contacts. Just in case it did be-
come possible later on.'
Sal nodded his agreement and, encouraged, Fern
continued, 'Some friends of ours - they're in the
movie business of course - are having a party tonight.
Why not come along and meet them? You're sure to
make some great contacts. And catch a few eyes. It'll
be fun too!' A friendly squeeze at Amber's waist em-
phasised this last point.
Amber smiled down at her diminutive girl-friend.
'Well, there's certainly no harm in that. I'd love to
come along - but don't I need an invitation? I can't
just turn up there.'
'Heck, that's not a problem.' Sal's deep brown bass
voice boomed. 'Fern can call Chuck and Marty -
even get them to send a limo for you. Right honey?'
Fern agreed that that was how it would be and it
was settled. Amber should be ready that evening and
the promised limo would arrive. So with mutual em-
bracing and much kissing of cheeks the three friends
parted company for a while.
The debauch of the previous night, which had in
fact carried on to the early hours of the morning, had
thoroughly fatigued Amber. She felt utterly worn out
despite having slept away most of the morning. As
she entered her bungalow she stretched tired limbs,
111

yawned and rubbed tired eyes. Now all she wanted to
do was to relax and spend time with her own
thoughts - reliving the raptures of the night before in
her mind's eye, certainly, but also musing on a few
other thoughts that Sal and Fern had put into her
head. Nothing could be more perfect, she thought,
than to spend some time sunbathing as she had first
planned before her newly made friends had tempor-
arily changed her priorities.
Luis, naturally, was on hand to do Amber's bid-
ding and quickly looked out a suitable bathing suit -
a skimpy two-piece affair in a silky material that just
about cradled Amber's ample bosom and barely
masked her pudenda.
While she changed, Luis set up a parasol on the
sun-deck overlooking the beach and arranged a low
table and a sun lounger in its shade.
Gratefully Amber reclined on the sun-bed, stretch-
ing out her long legs, feeling the warmth of the sun
on them. Right then she felt no sexual inclinations
whatever, just a heavy and sated tiredness, but still
she felt a need to exercise some dominance over poor
Luis, to make him bend to her will. The bronzed
youth was dressed in the white duck trousers which
were almost a uniform with him. His torso was
naked. He wore rope sandals on his feet. With an
imperious command Amber had him strip off even
these few garments until he remained clothed in only
the briefest of swimming trunks. For long minutes
she looked at him from under hooded eyelids, enjoy-
ing the sight of his richly tanned and well muscled
body, lingering over the satisfying bulge his manhood
made in the skimpy fabric, drinking in the perfection
of his tautly held little bottom and strong thighs, be-
fore dismissing him in an offhand manner.
112

She lay for a while, feeling the heat of the midday
sun warming her. Her eyes became heavy and her
head nodded forward as she dozed lightly, suspended
between consciousness and slumber. She could have
only been drowsing thus for a few minutes, so it felt
to her, before Luis was again at her side. She roused
and noticed that he had set a tray down on the table
at her elbow. A well chilled bottle of white wine, a
film of condensation forming over its flanks, stood in
the middle. There was fruit too, and a plate of sand-
wiches.
The sight of food and wine seemed to remind her
of the pangs of hunger she was feeling. Breakfast had
been mostly hot black coffee and now, some time
afterwards, Amber realised that she was ravenously
hungry. Ignoring Luis's solicitous murmuring she
helped herself from the bottle and fell on the food
with a hearty appetite. When her hunger was satisfied
she motioned Luis to remove the tray but kept the
now half-empty bottle by her to sustain her through
the afternoon.
Soon the effects of the wine, aided by the soothing
rumble of the surf as it pounded the sands and the
drone of people's voices lulled her off to sleep again.
She stretched out comfortably, her arms folded across
her midriff, and relaxed into a deep, refreshing sleep.
Possibly the subtle change in the weather first caused
Amber to rouse. The heat seemed to become more
intense and humid, the air seeming to cling about
her. The breeze stilled and dark clouds, presaging a
storm, began to form out over the sea, just on the
horizon. Amber tossed restlessly on the lounger,
mumbling incoherently to herself as she journeyed to-
ward wakefulness. She began to dream, reliving her
113

encounter with Sal and Fern. Once more in her dream
she saw Sal's huge maleness enter her fundament,
stretching the tight, virgin channel almost beyond
bearing until pleasure finally supplanted pain.
She drifted closer to wakefulness and her dream
state evaporated. As she hung on the cusp of con-
sciousness her mind began to work, half controlled
and focused, half drifting aimlessly. Sal's persuasive
arguments kept coming back to her, forcing her to
consider the tempting prospects he had laid out for
her. Not just the plentiful sensual experiences that
could be hers but the gorgeous, heady freedom to
choose her own way through life, to follow her own
inclinations. She began to muse.
Why shouldn't she be free and choose for herself?
Choose to stay in this world of reality and not return
home to be directed by the Network. After all, the
Network could not force her to obey. There was no
police force to secure obedience to the Network's
directives. No sanctions to punish disobedience. It
was just that everybody obeyed because that was the
way it had always been. Obedience to the common
good.
Vaguely she remembered that she had heard - al-
most as if it were the stuff of legend - that once, in the
early times of the Network, there were some few ren-
egades who had refused to obey the beneficial precepts
laid down for everybody's good. Then there had been
a need for police to enforce obedience. Then those
stiff-necked, obdurate and selfish individuals had had
to be condemned to exile and restrained in the name
of the common good. But that was all a long time ago.
She examined her own life, her half-formed
thoughts drifting aimlessly, and she realised how dis-
satisfied she had become with the direction set out for
114

her. At first she had been proud of her status as an
Icon but even then she had felt herself drawn to the
mysteries practised by the Technos. If she could have
chosen . . .
Now she had a chance to choose again. She would
choose to stay here, not return to the world outside,
the world of the Network. Why shouldn't she stay
and have a career in the movies? Who would stop her?
She shuddered and recoiled as if from some un-
clean thought. How could she even contemplate this
. . . this disobedience, this selfishness?
All at once she was wide awake, her eyes wide
open. She shrugged off her uncomfortable and unsett-
ling musing, dismissing it along with her more insub-
stantial dreams. Her sense of duty to the common
good and habit of total obedience returned fully in-
tact. Luis was there at her side. He held out a tele-
phone.
^4 A call for you; Miss Amber.'
Amber picked up the receiver. It was Fern. Every-
thing had been arranged. The limousine would collect
her in just over an hour. Amber scrambled to her feet,
snapping orders at Luis to lay out some clothes, draw
a bath . . .
Amber relaxed into the foamy water and allowed
Luis to massage a rich lather of fragrant soap over
her upper body. Soon she was feeling utterly re-
freshed under his sure touch as the soap cleansed her
skin. Lying there in the cooling water, she soon be-
came aware of the effect she was having on her ser-
vant. Slyly she passed a hand over the distinct bulge
in the crotch of the skimpy briefs that were still his
only clothing. She eyed his firm, hard body. She knew
she could never tire of admiring those sculpted
muscles, rippling under the tanned skin.
115

She would have loved to have made use of the
hardness that bulged and swelled beneath her hand.
Loved to have straddled his body and felt the thick,
swollen meat cleave her pussy. To have the power of
him thrusting inside her. But time was too short and
besides, other opportunities would present themselves
before the night was over. Nevertheless, Amber could
not resist the urge to torment the poor slave just a
little. There was always time for that.
She felt a tiny frisson of pleasure mount her spine
as she reached up to idly caress the flat belly beneath
his navel. Then her nails were talons as she raked
them over the flesh to raise four distinct, parallel
weals just above the waistband of his skimpy cover-
ing. Her hand dropped and her fingers snagged in the
top of the briefs to draw them down and over Luis's
erection. The servant stood absolutely still and en-
dured while his swollen manhood, thus released,
reared up. Amber clasped the thick tube of flesh in
her fist and wanked him vigorously. Luis closed his
eyes in surrender, bubbles of pleasure growling in his
throat.
Amber continued with this treatment until, very
soon, she felt her victim's organ pulse and twitch,
presaging the onset of his uncontrollable climax. She
brought him to the very edge of release, then as she
sensed his seed about to spurt from him, her nails
were talons again. Clawlike, she fixed her nails in the
base of Luis's twitching manhood and as his jism
spewed from him she dug into his flesh, drawing her
claw the full length of his penis.
Luis' gasp of pleasure was transmuted in that in-
stant to a howl of pain, but still, uncontrollably, his
organ spat jets of semen over the edge of the bath.
Amber released him and, ignoring his whimpers of
116

pain, stepped from the water and stood while Luis,
struggling to master himself, wrapped her in a
warmed towel.
As she had now come to expect, clothing suitable
for her excursion had been laid out for her in the
bedroom. She dried herself and spent time before the
mirror admiring her body and the light golden tan
she had begun to acquire as she carefully perfumed
herself. She rolled sheer grey stockings up her long
legs and used the silken garters she found beside them
to secure them tautly in place about her thighs. She
stepped into french knickers, extravagantly decorated
with lace, enjoying the coolness of the silk against her
skin.
Luis helped her into the grey jersey dress that he
had prepared for her, fastening the high polo collar
at the back of her neck. Amber admired the effect of
the clinging material as it outlined her figure, hugging
the full curves of her breast which still jutted proud
and firm without the aid of a bra. She twirled, watch-
ing the short skirt flare about her thighs, noticing the
expanse of bare flesh revealed by the cutaway back
that plunged almost to her coccyx.
Her shameless display of narcissism was cut short by
the arrival of the limousine. Amber allowed the short,
fat driver to hand her into the spacious, air-condi-
tioned passenger compartment. She helped herself to a
drink from the miniature bar concealed in the bulk-
head that separated her from the driver and settled
back to enjoy the drive. As she sipped and watched the
outside world glide by she considered once more the
attractions of staying and working there, independent
of the Network and its irksome strictures. More and
more she felt herself seduced by the alluring prospects
held out for her. If only she could . . .
117

The party was in full swing as the limousine drew
up outside the house. Lights blazed in every window
and Amber could easily make out the shapes of fig-
ures coming and going inside. A general buzz of talk
and laughter seemed to reach out and draw her
through the wide open front door.
Inside, Amber followed her nose, hoping to find
Sal and Fern or at least to encounter her hosts. She
found all four of them in a broadly proportioned
room, packed with milling, chattering people. A bar,
doing brisk business, was set out along almost the
entire length of one wall. At the far end of the room,
glass panels had been drawn back to give access onto
an open-air terrace whence the strains of a jazz
combo could just be heard.
Sal boomed a greeting over the heads of the crowd
and cleared a path to Amber as she stood on the
threshold. Clasping her hand in his great paw he
piloted her over to a heavily jowled man in his early
sixties who sat in one corner, holding court sur-
rounded by several attractive young women.
This is Chuck.' Sal boomed the introduction above
the buzz of chatter.
The old man's entourage parted, allowing Amber
into the presence of their host. Breathing heavily,
Chuck, who carried a heavy paunch to match his
jowls, struggled unsteadily to his feet and extended a
fat, slug-white hand to her.
'Welcome to my home. Please enjoy yourself. Have
a good time,' he squeaked in a strange, high-pitched
tone as the effort of standing brought streams of per-
spiration to his shiny pink pate.
'And I'm Marty,' a deep masculine voice an-
nounced from behind her.
Marty was a complete contrast to his partner. He
118

was tall, tanned and sported a full head of curly
brown hair. Amber liked what she saw. She took the
strong hand he proffered, felt the firm manliness of
his grip. Marty flashed a grin of perfect white teeth
and said, 'Amber, I'm delighted to meet you. Fern
has told me all about you. Please make yourself at
home. Enjoy yourself. I hope we'll be able to spend
some time getting acquainted later. Please excuse me
now. I have some people to see,' and he was gone,
disappearing into a sea of people that parted to re-
ceive him and closed around him.
For a while Sal took Amber under his wing, intro-
ducing her to several people, with whispered asides as
to their status and usefulness to Amber's future
career. She became engrossed in conversation with an
individual who seemed unable to resist her knees, pat-
ting them to emphasise key points as they talked.
Looking up she saw Sal's bulk receding in the dis-
tance and knew she must make her own way now.
She did just that, cruising from one group to another,
making her own contacts as she went.
Finally, finding the heat of the room and the press
of bodies becoming a little overwhelming she strolled
out onto the open-air terrace. Cradling what she had
promised herself would be the last drink of the even-
ing in her hand she wandered over to the bandstand
that stood beside the still, floodlit waters of a kid-
ney-shaped swimming pool. A few guests, seated at
tables, were listening to the jazz combo who were
now winding into the last few numbers of the even-
ing, playing soft and low. Amber joined them.
A thin, almost emaciated black man was seated at
the piano. He flashed a smile of welcome at the new
arrival as she took her seat while he launched into a
new number. He sang looking straight at her, his eyes
119

strangely hypnotic, as if the song were just for her.
Amber, fascinated, could not tear her eyes away as
his honey-smooth smoky voice caressed the lyrics and
his long, bony fingers teased intoxicating sounds from
the keyboard.
'Johnny really knows how to sell a tune, huh?'
Marty's voice murmured at her side. Amber started
and found her attractive host had drawn up a chair
beside her.
'Hey, I'm sorry I startled you,' Marty continued,
placing a calming hand over hers. 'I hope you've been
having a good time.'
Amber agreed that, indeed, she had passed a very
pleasant evening. Marty went on:
'Sal tells me you might be interested in working on
one of my projects. Perhaps we could discuss that
sometime?'
Amber was on the verge of explaining about the
Network and so on, but instead she restricted herself
to nodding non-committally and saying, 'Yes, we
could discuss that sometime.'
Marty continued to chatter on about the film busi-
ness, the projects he and Chuck had in hand, all the
time enlivening his talk with a few indiscreet asides
about some of Amber's fellow guests. He hailed a
waiter and, without noticing how, Amber found her-
self with a fresh drink.
Gradually the hubbub of the party began to dimin-
ish and soon Amber found herself almost alone with
her escort. The band were starting to pack up their
instruments and waiters passed here and there,
gathering up dirty glasses.
'Looks like things have just about wound down here,'
Marty remarked. 'My house is just a little further up the
canyon. How about coming back for a nightcap?'
120

Amber understood clearly what was being pro-
posed and had seen the proposition coming from
some way off. She had never had any intention of
refusing, particularly as the alcohol she had con-
sumed had totally released her from any residual in-
hibitions she might have felt. Anyway, Marty was an
attractive guy and she wondered just how he might
perform. She nodded agreement.
'And maybe Johnny could come too?' Marty added
with a winning smile.
Better yet, Amber thought, and for reply smiled
back, wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue. The
skinny pianist loomed beside them just as his name
was mentioned, the black tuxedo hanging on his bony
frame as if it were two sizes too large. A black hand
helped her to her feet.
Back in the limousine for the trip to Marty's house,
Amber sat between the two men. As the car glided
away and silently began to gather speed Amber,
through the alcohol buzz that still throbbed in her,
heard Marty whisper an instruction. The words were
indistinct but his gesture was eloquent. Amber slip-
ped from the leather-upholstered seat onto her knees
between his outstretched legs. Her fingers worked the
zip at his fly and brought out his thickening man-
hood.
She steadied the rod of flesh with one hand and
stretched out her tongue. She licked the vein-ridged
surface, paying special attention to the bulbous, crim-
son crown, before cramming the whole throbbing
length into her mouth. She sucked enthusiastically on
the hard male flesh that crammed her jaws and slip-
ped into her throat, using tongue and teeth and pal-
ate. A croak of encouragement escaped Marty's lips
- Amber was really hitting the spot.
121

She sensed Johnny slide into position behind her.
She knew his penis would be bared and ready. She
imagined it, slim and long, like a sleek, shining black
mamba poised to strike. She felt her skirt being raised
and folded over hips. She felt the knickers being
drawn down to bare her rump and her sex to him.
Slender fingers probed at her, starting her juices and
smearing the honey-thick emission over her lips,
readying her to receive him. Then he was in her, the
hard black snake slithering between her pussy lips,
burying itself in her moist, dark, velvet dark cavern.
The man's thrusts rocked her as he began to rut
vigorously in her, pumping his prick in and out of
her. Together they entered a rhythm as old as time,
Amber bobbing her head over Marty's swollen man-
hood in time to the slapping, slurping motions of the
black man's tool within her.
Marty gasped as he poured a stream of salty come
into Amber's mouth. The boiling fluid swirled over
teeth and tongue. She gulped it down as if it were the
most delicious elixir. Johnny's tightening grasp on her
hips signalled his climax. With a grunt he bore down
on Amber's back as he unleashed a torrent of his seed
into her womb.
When the car drew up outside Marty's house all three
were once again fully clothed and seated as if nothing
had passed between them. As Marty handed Amber
out of the car a low rumble of thunder echoed around
the surrounding hills. The blanket of black clouds
tumbled about in the sky above them, driven by an
increasing wind. The storm that had been gathering
force throughout the evening was about to break.
The house was in complete darkness and seemed to
be deserted. Amber allowed herself to be led through
122

pitch black passages by her two companions who
walked in silence on either side of her, each with a
hand on her shoulder.
Without exchanging a word they led her into a
spacious room, dimly lit by the moon. Marty kindled
the subdued electric light and Amber found herself
facing a wall of glass through which she could just
make out the shadowy outline of the hills that sur-
rounded the house.
The two men circled around her as she stood in the
centre of the room, like sharks sniffing out prey. Still
they exchanged not a word, neither between them-
selves or with Amber, but simply looked her up and
down with appraising stares. Amber began to find
this strange and a little alarming. She shuddered in-
voluntarily.
Johnny, standing behind her, reached beneath the
mane of hair to unfasten the neck of her dress, push-
ing it down to bunch at her waist, baring her breasts.
Amber was starting to feel a little unnerved. Embar-
rassed by her nakedness she made to cover her bosom
with crossed arms. Sharply, Johnny commanded her
to uncover herself. Again for long moments both men
gazed on her nakedness, looking their fill.
'Wet your nipples. Play with them - make them
stiff.' The command came in an even tone, spoken
softly. Amber bridled, defiance flashing in her eyes.
She hesitated.
'Do it,' Marty spoke flatly - a command that
brooked no argument.
Amber, her cheeks colouring, wetted her forefinger
and smeared saliva over both nipples. They began,
despite her, to erect at once. She took each rubbery
teat between thumb and forefinger, rolling them, feel-
ing them swell.
123

'Harder. Do it harder.'
She squeezed them, pulling on the flesh, sending
tiny thrills along the sensitised nerves straight to her
sex.
Marty brushed her hands aside, replacing them
with his own. He cupped the abundant flesh, gently
palpating both breasts. He raised one nipple to his
lips, sucked it into his mouth, grazing the sensitive
bud with his teeth as he drew hard on the flesh. He
raised his head. Amber, abashed, sought in vain to
avoid his piercing gaze.
'So Amber, we have heard such a lot about you
from our mutual friend Fern. Especially she has told
us how you like to treat your men. Poor Luis for
example.'
Amber gaped, aghast. Of course, between bouts of
vigorous sex there had been time for pillow talk. Am-
ber had found Fern easy to talk to and an eager lis-
tener - prompting for details as Amber became more
and more at ease with her. Amber had told her all
about the indignities she had visited on Luis and all
about the slaves of her fantasies. But it had all been
in confidence, between lovers . ..
'But now my dear,' and the grip on her breast
tightened, sending a spasm of pain through the fleshy
globe, 'now you are to have a lesson. Now you will
be taught to submit, taught to beg. Yes. It is your
turn to suffer pain and humiliation and to learn to
thank your tormentor.'
The chilling voice sent a shudder through her. Am-
ber could well imagine what these 'lessons' might in-
volve. Marty gave her breast one final squeeze and
released her. He stood back and in the same cold, flat
tones told her to undress. Amber hesitated, but his
stony stare urged her to action, slipping the dress
124

over her hips, stepping out of the silken knickers. She
reached to roll down the stockings but a gesture from
her captor indicated she was to leave them alone.
Again her captors subjected her to careful but
silent scrutiny as they exchanged glances charged
with meaning. Amber, her nudity emphasised by the
grey stockings, felt herself colour hotly, embarrassed
in the presence of two fully clothed men. She felt an
almost overwhelming urge to make another futile at-
tempt to cover her nakedness with her hands but
fought it down when she saw the look in Marty's eye.
Johnny, stepping from behind her, handed some-
thing to Marty, who extended his arm towards her,
letting her have a good look at what he held.
'I'm sure you know what this is and what we are
about to do,' he said flatly, flicking the leather thongs
in front of Amber's face. The lash cracked in the still
air. Amber felt the draught, cool on her cheek. Of
course she was quite familiar with the martinet. Had
it not figured in so many of her fantasies? But now
she was to feel its cruel bite on her own vulnerable
flesh.
Amber's first reaction was to damn Fern and her
indiscreet tongue which had placed her at the mercy
of these two men who threatened her with indignity
and suffering. She shuddered at the thought of what
they might do to her. There was no telling at what
point they might call a halt. Then through the panic
that had seized her she realised that the experience
that was being played out was in fact very welcome.
It was the natural complement of the dominant be-
haviour that so often formed part of her fantasies!
Suddenly she saw clearly that her deepest desire was
to submit and to be mastered and that that was exact-
ly what had been arranged.
125

Meekly and with a great calmness, almost joyfully,
she allowed Johnny to take her by the wrist and lead
her to a sort of vaulting horse that stood over by the
wall of glass. She made no resistance as he fixed her
wrists in clamps set at the corners of the bench,
spreading her arms wide, pressing her bosom into the
leather top. Obediently she parted her legs as these
too were secured to the base of the bench.
A vivid flash of lightning, followed by a booming
clap of thunder that echoed around the hills, lit up
the night sky. In the stillness that followed the steady
drumming of fat drops of rain on the windows could
be heard clearly. The long-awaited storm had broken.
Lightning arched across the sky again. Craning her
head upwards, Amber could see the reflection of both
men standing behind her, Marty swinging the marti-
net menacingly at his side. Her flesh quivered as she
felt the cool caress of the leather thongs as they were
laid over her buttocks. For long, achingly long
minutes her tormentor merely dragged the lash lightly
over her hyper-sensitised skin. He trailed the whip
from her buttocks over her back, letting it drape
briefly over her shoulders before descending with
agonising slowness back down her body.
Inexorably the tension built in her, making her
crave the release that the start of her thrashing must
bring. Her nerves ached and her flesh trembled. All at
once she heard herself begin to plead in a strangled
wail:
^fcOh please . .. please ... use it. Please . .. beat me.
Hit me!'
Amber saw the reflection in the window draw back
its arm, heard the swish of leather on the air, felt the
searing heat as the thongs embraced her arse. She let
out a low groan of pain and of relief.
126

The two men used the whip on her steadily, taking
turns, flogging her thoroughly until her back and but-
tocks and the soft flesh of her upper thighs throbbed
with an incessant pain. As each blow fell Amber
squealed with the hurt until, at last, her cries merged
into a single moan that mingled with her sobs. Again
she heard herself, as if from some distance away, beg-
ging, 'Oh please . .. please .. . it's so ... oh! Oh!' But
not knowing if she meant 'Please stop' or 'Please, I
need more'.
She kept up this incoherent babble as her tormen-
tors worked the lash over her quivering flesh. She lost
all track of time and of how many blows she suffered.
She groaned and mumbled still, when at last they
stopped and, releasing her, drew her upright.
In a haze of pain, her beaten flesh glowing hotly,
she leaned on Johnny as he led her to a broad bed
and laid her on it. The white satin sheet was sooth-
ingly cool against her skin as she lay on her back, her
head propped on a pillow which had been placed un-
der her shoulders.
The throbbing soon resolved to a dull ache and
with this came a realisation that she now felt over-
whelmingly randy. The mist of pain cleared from her
eyes and she saw Marty kneeling between her parted
thighs. He was naked and Amber's gaze was drawn
unerringly to the swollen prick that bobbed and
swayed enormously at his groin. Uncomprehendingly
she saw that this thick staff of flesh had been aug-
mented with a crest of silky bristles that encircled the
crown and twined about half the length of the shaft.
Marty grasped her ankles and threw her legs over
his shoulders. He bore down on her, his prick enter-
ing her in a single, leisurely thrust. She felt every inch
of him slide into her, the bristles that encircled his
127

tool intensifying the sensation as they brushed over
her clitoris and stimulated the lining of her cunt.
Then, fully embedded, he began to work inside her,
ramming himself back and forth.
Looking up, Amber could see the whole scene re-
flected in a mirror over the bed. She saw the naked
man covering her, saw the steady rise and fall of his
buttocks as he rutted at her.
The thick male meat working in her, the tickling,
tantalising of its hairy crown drove her wild with lust.
She clasped her ankles behind Marty's neck, gurgling
with pleasure as the thrills coursed through her.
Steadily he thrust at her, edging her carefully to the
brink of her climax. Then, just as she felt herself
about to explode he drew back to hold the tip of his
tool, glistening with her juices, at the mouth of her
cunt.
Amber barely had time to savour the frustration
she felt at being thus denied before her entered her
again and again began her journey towards bliss.
Three times he coaxed her to the very point of
coming and three times he denied her release. Each
time the sexual tension in her increased. Each time
the sense of frustration was greater. Once more she
heard herself pleading with her tormentor:
^kOh . . . oh . . . please . . . please let me come . . . b
. . . br . . . bring me off please. Please, I beg you . . .'
Marty leered down at her and his cold grey eyes
regarded her with disdain. Panting with the effort of
their rutting he whispered, 'See, already you have
learned to beg,' before he again plunged his cock deep
into her sex.
He bent low as he rammed into her unmercifully
and placed his mouth at the base of her breast. His
tongue lapped her flesh, tasting the saltiness of her
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sweat. He drew a gobbet of sweet flesh into his
mouth, teeth grazing the skin. Then with a low groan,
deep in his throat, he thrust home and came inside
her while his teeth clamped on her flesh. He bit at her
again and again, ringing her bosom with tooth marks
as his seed flooded her.
When he was finished he withdrew from her, letting
her legs fall from his shoulders. She saw the circlet of
hairs matted to his wilting penis glistening with the
residue of his spend as he climbed off the bed.
Johnny climbed between her legs. He was naked
too. She saw his ribs clearly beneath his velvet black
pelt. His tool was exactly as she had imagined it: slen-
der, long, poised like a snake about to strike.
He mounted her, grasping her hips, drawing her
onto his staff. Their bodies seemed to merge, the
sweat mingling to make the skin slither wetly.
Clasping her tightly to him, crushing her breasts
into his bony chest, the black man rolled her onto her
side. She felt the bed sag as Marty rejoined them, felt
his hands cover her buttocks, fingers probe at her
thighs. She felt the tip of his prick, stiff and ready
again so soon, graze the cleft that separated her but-
tocks. She tensed in anticipation of the expected in-
trusion, braced herself to receive him in her arse.
Her eyes widened in astonishment. Yes, he was en-
tering her, but in the cunt. She was the delicious meat
in a human sandwich. Two throbbing tools were in
her, stretching her almost beyond endurance, the two
flesh rods slipping and slithering against each other.
The lewdness of her situation, of what these two
men were doing to her, edged her finally over the
abyss. She shuddered as a continuous series of cli-
maxes tore at her. She was still riding the wave of
ecstasy when both of them pulled out of her and sent
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a stream of semen lancing over her trembling body.
She barely noticed the hot creamy jism splash over
her, mingling with her sweat, coating her, defiling her.
When she came to herself Marty was standing by
the bed, looking down at her with his cold, unemo-
tional stare. He tossed her crumpled clothes onto the
bed beside her and growled, 'Go and clean yourself
up. Get dressed.'
On shaking legs Amber followed the direction of
Marty's pointing finger to the bathroom. At first the
harsh light in there hurt her eyes but gradually she
became accustomed to the brightness.
She ran hot water into the hand-basin and washed
off the semen that had dried in a crust on her skin.
She washed her face and dried herself.
Using the mirror over the sink she examined herself.
The bite marks around her breasts were red and angry, a
couple already turning blue-black as bruising set in. She
turned and, looking over her shoulder, examined the
damage the martinet had done to her back and buttocks.
She winced as she saw the ripe globes of her bottom
glowing bright crimson, shuddered as she seemed to
recall each stripe as it was laid freshly on her body.
Her stockings had been rumpled and she bent to
straighten them. She found a long rent in one, run-
ning from heel to thigh, and instead stripped them off
and tossed them to one side. She slipped on her
knickers, pulled the crumpled dress over her head and
tried to smooth out the worst of the creases with her
hands. She used some of the cosmetics that she found
laid out on a shelf to repair her make-up and dragged
a brush through her tousled hair. Feeling a little more
human but still conscious of the throbbing in her bum
and the tenderness between her legs, she stepped back
into the room to confront her tormentors.
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They stood facing her as she emerged from the
bathroom, both of them fully clothed. Amber stood
meekly before them, unsure of herself, wondering
what was to happen next. Marty spoke:
'Amber, you are free to go now. Be sure to reflect
carefully on what was done to you here. Be certain
that you will be summoned again and be ready to
submit.'
Amber lowered her head in a token of submission.
In her heart she knew that when the summons came
she would welcome it and would submit gladly to
whatever trials would be prescribed.
131

10
The promised summons was not long in arriving. In
fact Amber was quite taken aback at how quickly
events seemed to be progressing after what she later
came to regard as her initiatory experience.
When they were finished with her, Marty and his
companion had sent her back to her bungalow alone
in the limousine. There she had fallen naked into her
bed and at once had drifted into a deep and dreamless
sleep.
The next morning she awoke refreshed to find that
apart from some small discomfort, the pain in her
well punished rump had quite abated. Later examin-
ation in the mirror served to confirm that, beside a
few bruises, all trace of her ordeal had been effaced
from her body and the flesh had recovered to its for-
mer creamy whiteness.
She lay for some time luxuriating in the comforting
warmth beneath the covers. As if obedient to Marty's
stricture, she let her mind run over the events of the
previous night. Here then, to her wonderment, was a
new and quite unexpected side to her nature. Certain-
ly she had been stretched and made to discover new
dimensions of herself and to travel to new bounds of
experience.
Was this what she wanted though? Of course the
pain she was made to suffer could not be termed
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pleasurable. But pleasure lay beyond it! In fact she
could not remember being more thoroughly aroused,
more attuned to the sensuality of her body. Just
thinking of being constrained and made to submit to
the lash made her tingle as well as shudder. In fact
just thinking about it made her hot. Her hand found
her pussy, found herself moist . . .
Reflecting again. She had found pleasure in submit-
ting to Marty and his accomplice, letting herself be
used by them for their gratification. Her mind whirled
at the complexity of sensations and emotions she had
been made to feel. Did she want this? How could she
tell? But already she felt herself drawn to the way of
submission, yearned to be summoned to undergo the
promised trial.
Luis broke in upon her drowsy contemplation. Un-
bidden, he had prepared breakfast, setting up a table
on the sun-deck overlooking the ocean. Ravenously
hungry, she quickly gathered a robe about her and
stepped out into the sunshine.
As she sat down at the table she noticed the envel-
ope propped against a small silver vase that contained
a single red rose. With trembling fingers she picked it
up. Not bothering to read the address she opened it
and drew several sheets of heavy bond paper from
within. Hardly daring to breath, caught between ex-
hilaration and dread, she read . . .
The summons had been very detailed and very ex-
plicit. Amber followed it to the letter in making her-
self ready and now as nightfall approached she was
ready to meet the trials that had been prepared for
her.
She had caught a glimpse of herself in the plain
133

mirrored glass decorating the hotel lobby. 'Nice legs,'
she had thought absently. Clad in black stockings, the
black nylon moulding calves and firmly contoured
thighs, they were shown off at their best. The short
skirt showed off an inviting portion of those thighs.
Not enough to be blatant but sufficient to hold out a
wealth of sexy promise. Those extraordinarily high
heels played their part too, turning ankles and calf,
making her legs seem even longer.
Her attention caught by her own reflection, she had
gazed at herself. She looked her fill at those fine legs,
then her gaze travelled upwards, past the short skirt,
past her nipped-in waist, over the shot-silk blouse,
open at the neck, and past the understated rope of
pearls that twined at her throat. Her breasts too were
another pleasing feature, full and ripe. She could just
discern a hint of cleavage where the half-cups of her
bra held them high to thrust pertly against the silk.
Her lingering gaze had travelled upwards. She was
not sure about her make-up. Not quite her usual
look. Sexy. It was definitely sexy but certainly not
tarty. Her wide mouth was well roughed, the crimson
lipstick making her lips seem more than usually
luscious. Her eyes were widened, emphasised by high-
lights and subtle use of eye-shadow. Her cheek bones
were brought to prominence by use of blusher. Did
she like her hair like that? Swept back from her face
and held in a pony-tail with a bow atop her head.
Nevertheless, everything was as specified in the
summons.
She realised that time was getting on and she was
expected. She had torn herself away from the narciss-
istic contemplation of herself and made for the
parking lot.
The chill evening air raised goose-bumps on her
134

skin as she walked from the hotel. High heels clicking
on the tarmac, teetering slightly on the five-inch sti-
letto heels, she made her way to the far side of the
deserted open space, where already shadows
lengthened.
The car stood exactly where it was supposed to be,
over in the darkest corner of the tarmac square. It
was the only vehicle there. It was long and low, a
classic phallic symbol crafted in steel and rubber and
plastic. An icon of male sexuality painted flame red.
The windows were black, opaque. Was there someone
inside, waiting for her, watching her approach?
She tried the door handle and had to jump back as
the gull-wing door flipped open. The passenger com-
partment was empty. Amber climbed in and reached
up to pull down and close the door.
The seat was low and moulded about her body,
holding her rigid, half reclining, half sitting. She felt
her breathing quicken, could hear her heartbeat in the
silence. She closed her eyes, just for a second, to calm
herself. When she opened them again he was there,
standing in front of the sloping bonnet, seeming to
look directly at her. He was tall, slim, almost gaunt,
dressed in a sort of leather overall or jumpsuit that
clung to his spare frame.
He came round to the side, opened the driver's
door and climbed in, pulling it shut behind him in a
single sinuous motion. His hair was close-cropped
and seemed to be made of the same leather that en-
cased his body, black with a dull sheen. He looked at
Amber with piercing, expressionless blue eyes - dead
and ice-cold - mimicking the appraisal she had made
of herself just a few minutes before.
'Don't move. Don't speak,' he rasped in a low
whisper.
135

He placed a hand on one rounded knee, stroking
the black, taut-stretched nylon, moulding her dim-
pled kneecap in his palm. Lightly his fingers played
over her lower thigh, ranging between her knee and
the hem of her skirt, seeming to enjoy the texture of
the stockings. Gradually his hand worked higher, his
eyes still fixing hers, until he encountered bare,
smooth flesh above the stocking tops. His open palm
caressed silken skin, gently parting her legs to feel the
moist plumpness of her inner thigh before worming
beneath the taut elastic of suspenders, probing under
the nylon sheath.
Already Amber was feeling quite heated and she
began to wriggle under the insistent stroking. She
started to whisper pleasurably. Firmly he pinched the
flesh of her inner thigh, stilling her instantly.
His hand worked even higher to encounter the
lace-frilled edging of her black silk french knickers.
Still enjoying her rich smoothness his hand delved
into one wide knicker leg, working inwards, finding
the mat of her pubic bush.
The skirt was rucked up around her waist to fully
expose her lower limbs to his unemotional gaze. Fin-
gers hooked in the waistband of the knickers. Amber
lifted herself and with a single sweeping motion he
drew the batiste garment down over her legs and off,
to be discarded. His fingers again went to her sex,
opening her, probing inside her already liquid cunt.
Soon his whole hand was working in her, spreading
her juices over her nether lips and inner thigh - find-
ing and working the sensitive nub of her clitoris.
Thrilling to the bizarre situation, Amber rode on
wave after wave of sensation that rose from her pussy
and broke over her. She couldn't keep silent now, had
to writhe against the lovely digits that pleasured her
136

so completely. And thus she was lifted to a thunder-
ing climax, drumming her heels on the floor of the car
as she squeezed the stranger's hand between her
thighs.
Her head cleared to find his fingers, smeared with
her sweet-sour juices, busy at the buttons of her
blouse. He pushed it open to reveal the firm flesh of
her breasts overflowing the delicate half-cup bra. He
bent his head and with lizard tongue licked along the
cleavage, dampening the smooth, milky mound with
a trail of saliva. With one hand he released the clasp
and peeled the cups away from the ripe fruit, baring
her to him.
He cupped one breast in his palm, grinding the
nipple, pushing it back into the doughy mound. His
hand kneaded the tit, squeezing and drawing the flesh
into a tautly perfect cone only to release it while he
attended to its twin. With hand and mouth, lips and
teeth he enjoyed her succulent fleshy orbs, working
her again to a fever-pitch of excitement.
With a smooth and rapid movement he swung his
body over the low control console which separated
the seats, to kneel between her still-parted thighs.
With deft movements he opened a panel in his leather
suit, releasing his erect member which tumbled out of
its confinement, glaring crimson and angry at Am-
ber's sex with its one eye.
Strong fingers opened her and with a single,
smooth movement he was fixed in her, lunging into
her liquid sex. He grasped her buttocks, pulling her
onto him as his hugeness threatened to split her.
Leather ground against soft yielding flesh. His
weapon reamed her sodden sex channel as Amber
held herself motionless, being used like a semi-naked,
life-sized doll.
137

Releasing her buttocks, he continued to slam in
and out of her clinging sex. Placing his hands on her
shoulders he forced her down into her seat. He thrust
home and Amber's glutinous sex clasped him as the
ripples of release spread through her. His throbbing
penis exploded, spewing hot liquid deep inside her.
He leaned back, still in her, still spending, and slap-
ped her full in the face. The stinging blow merely
served to heighten her release and was hardly felt as
she squealed from the bottom of her lungs.
Without ceremony or soft words he slipped from
her, smearing her pubis and thighs with a residue of
his cream and secured his tool, still semi-hard, within
his leather carapace.
'Cover yourself,' came the harsh, gravelled whis-
per, and Amber, hands trembling in the aftershock of
violent passion, hurried to obey. She fished under the
seat for her discarded panties and drew them over her
bottom, feeling them become damp and clinging from
the moisture that oozed from her sex. Quickly she
replaced her bra and buttoned her blouse.
The man leaned over and placed a blindfold over
her eyes, fastening the velcro straps beneath her
pony-tail. It was very efficient, shutting out the light
completely and plunging her into darkness.
The powerful engine came to life with a throaty
growl which settled down to a dull, pulsing throb.
Amber lurched forward as her companion let in the
clutch and was jerked back in her seat as the car
surged forward. She felt the bump as they bounced
over the lip of the ramp leading down to the street.
Then all was smoothness and they drove with no sen-
sation of motion except occasionally when in turning
a tight corner Amber was pressed on one side or the
other of the constricting seat.
138

Deprived of vision and of all other sensations of
the world outside, Amber withdrew into herself. They
could have travelled for hours or for minutes. It did
not matter. She had already entered the fantasy world
where time and place were of no consequence, where
all that mattered was what was done to her body and
the sensations that that produced.
Her conscious being was already a delicious, in-
toxicated turmoil of feeling and emotions. At her core
was the warm afterglow that had followed on from
sexual release. At the edges of consciousness though
there was apprehension, even adrenalin-pumping
fear. Just how far would they go? What was going to
happen to her now? But overarching all, there was the
stupendous feeling of being utterly powerless, of be-
ing used and controlled, that she knew now she had
craved for so long.
The car stopped abruptly and she was shaken from
her day-dream state. She felt cold air as the car door
opened. A hand took her by the upper arm, a tight
grip, fingers digging into muscle and flesh, and led her
from the car, along a path, through doors, along cor-
ridors. She crossed a floor that seemed strangely pad-
ded, which did not scrape or echo to her footfall and
was brought to a stand, still on the cushioned surface.
'Let's see her then.' The voice was distant and muf-
fled but not the leather man's whispered rasp.
Ungentle hands opened the blouse, tearing it, rip-
ping at the buttons. It was pushed over her shoulders
and off. The bra was unclasped and peeled off, leav-
ing her breasts to swing free, full and round. The skirt
followed. She stepped out of it as she felt the material
pool at her feet. Thumbs hooked in the waistband of
her knickers, drew them down and she, obligingly,
stepped out of them.
139

In her mind's eye she conjured the lewd spectacle
she must present. To how many pairs of eyes? Naked
between the pearls at her throat and the thin strip of
the garterbelt at her waist. The black stockings held
taut at mid-thigh emphasising her pale nudity.
'Hmm, good firm tits,' and a hand fondled her,
fingers teased at the already bullet-hard nipples,
pressed them back into the surrounding areolae only
to let them spring back when released.
The hands stroked over her torso, descending to
her midriff, fingers poking into her navel, stroking the
fleece on her pubic mount. 'Firm belly too. Must
work hard to keep in shape.'
'Nice fleshy bum, too,' leather man's gruff whisper
added his opinion, 'firm though - no flab,' and the
fondling inspection of her posterior ended in a light
slap that rippled her buttock flesh.
They were discussing and inspecting her like some
beast at a cattle show. Amber felt her cheeks colour
up. It was humiliation beyond her experience, but yet
beneath it all she felt a perverse excitement.
So the inspection and commentary continued.
Hands stroked and pinched and probed. Her but-
tocks were parted, a wet finger sought and tickled at
her crinkled anus. There were definitely two of them
now but Amber felt strangely aware of a third pres-
ence. Male or female, she couldn't tell. She couldn't
even be sure she had heard them or felt their touch.
She simply felt the presence.
'On your knees,' the rasped whisper ordered and a
hand between her shoulder-blades forced her down
until she was kneeling, dog-like, on all fours.
'Oil her,' the muffled, indistinct voice said from a
way behind her. 'It will sting more.'
A moment passed, then Amber felt cool liquid
140

trickle over her lower back, forming a pool at her
coccyx, dribbling along the cleft between her bum-
cheeks. Firm hands, cupping the richly fleshed hemi-
spheres, spread the oil over her buttocks and upper
thighs. Those same hands spread her cheeks, liberally
oiling the channel between, working the viscous stuff
into her anus.
The muffled voice had been right. A leather strap
slapped hard on her left bum-cheek, curling to em-
brace her flank. The first impact was a stinging shock
making Amber throw back her head and howl, wolf-
like, into the surrounding darkness. The leather slap-
ped wetly over each bum-cheek in turn - left and
right, left and right - punishing the full roundness,
then descended to sting the tender flesh where the ripe
lobes of buttock meat met the ivory skin of upper
thigh. Amber wriggled and squirmed under the im-
pact of each slap, yelling lustily as her tortured fesses
grew hotter and hotter.
Then they were finished. Amber, in the silence, was
acutely aware of her glowing cheeks as they throbbed
painfully. Hands parted her buttocks and more oil
was poured into the channel. Fingers worked it into
the tight anal hole. Then she felt the solid flesh of an
erect penis laid in the chasm between her parted but-
tocks, feeling it work up and down there. The tip
touched against the puckered and slickly oiled porch
of her rectum.
'My god, he's going to bugger me!' half in fright
and half in lascivious anticipation.
Slowly, steadily, the hardness was pressed into the
tiny, tight-muscled aperture. Gradually she opened,
swallowing it inside her. Amber screwed her eyes un-
der the blindfold and set her teeth against the pain as
the swollen head and half of the shaft penetrated her.
141

Firm hands held her hips, pulling her back until she
felt a flat belly against her throbbing fesses. He was
in her, the thickness of him distending her rectal
muscles, and pleasure replaced pain.
She felt the lightest touch against her lips, a caress
of velvet flesh that left a trail of moisture. The press-
ure became more insistent and she parted her lips to
allow a stiffly erect penis to enter. It glided between
her lips, over her tongue, forcing her jaws apart until
the tip lodged in her throat.
'He's buggering me. He's fucking my arse. I can
feel him, so huge, working in and out of my rectum.
I can feel him stretching me. His hands are in my cunt
now, opening me. He's spreading my slime over my
belly, over my tits. He's squeezing my tits, milking
them as his big fat cock screws my arse. There's an-
other fat cock in my mouth - fucking my mouth.
They'll come soon and fill my arsehole and my mouth
with their cream.'
Like a litany in her mind she told herself in the
crudest terms she could command what was being
done to her. She conjured mind pictures for herself -
of her kneeling, her swollen bum in the air while a
hard-bodied, naked man rammed his thick tool into
her distended bumhole, of his equally well endowed
and naked partner burying his prick in her mouth.
Great waves of pleasure washed over her. She felt
the penis in her mouth throb and seem to swell as
gushes of seed hit the back of her throat. She swal-
lowed it down automatically, gagging and choking as
the weapon that was violating her rear end, as if with
an independent animus, throbbed and poured gooey
cream into her rectum.
In the brief silence that followed Amber thought
she heard a door waft open and click, almost imper-
142

ceptibly, shut. A hand under her shoulder eased her
upright until she was half kneeling, half sitting on her
haunches. Without warning the blindfold was whip-
ped away and Amber blinked, half blind in the glar-
ing light that suddenly burst on her retina.
As her vision cleared and she became used to the
intense, white light, she saw the leather man standing
in front of her. He was naked, his slim, hard body
hairless and pale. His left hand caressed and cradled
his erect penis that jutted from his groin, thick and
long and ridged with veins. Amber thought dimly, 'So
there were three.'
'Take it. Wank it,' the low whisper commanded.
Amber reached out with both hands. One cupped
his scrotum, testing the weight of the eggs within,
squeezing gently at the velvet sac. With the other she
grasped the shaft and began to wank it firmly, squeez-
ing the base at each stroke then firmly caressing from
root to tip and back. Gradually she increased the vig-
our of the treatment until she detected a tell-tale
twitching against the palm of her hand. She squeezed
hard with both hands, directing the eye of the penis
at herself and wanked even harder. Instantly a hot,
white jet of cream spewed at her, splashing over her
nose into her hair. Others followed, seeming to cover
her face, shoulders and tits until the deflated instru-
ment twitched its last.
Leather man tossed Amber her discarded panties
from the floor, commanding, 'Stand up and wipe
yourself.'
Amber got to her feet and used the scrap of lace-
edged silk to wipe the sticky effusion from her body.
Standing, she became conscious of a cool stream of
jism that oozed from her bumhole to trickle over her
thighs down to the tops of her stockings.
143

Amber had an opportunity to take stock of her
surroundings. She seemed to be standing in the
middle of a brightly lit and spacious dance studio.
The walls were entirely composed of mirrors. Wher-
ever she looked the lewdly naked image of herself was
reflected back, and beyond that image still other re-
flections of her naked self, from different angles as if
in a fantastic, bawdy kaleidoscope. To one side stood
a wide bed covered with a single white satin sheet.
There seemed to be no doors.
Now too she could see who else was in the room
with her. There were just two men. Leather man, of
course, and beyond him a second man. He was short-
er and more heavily built - built like a bull in fact.
His close-cropped head was set on powerful shoulders
which merged into a muscular barrel chest. Thick legs
supported his torso and at his core the thick, flaccid
snake of his penis dangled. He was heavily tattooed.
An eagle adorned his chest, a snake in gaudy reds and
blues twined about his shoulders and encircled his
neck. Even the shaft of his penis was decorated with
the image of a long-stemmed rose in bud.
'Lie on the bed. On your back,' the gruffly whis-
pered command came from the leather man.
Amber kicked off her shoes and swung her legs
onto the bed, feeling the cool satin slippery against
her skin. She propped her head on a couple of pillows
and lay, supine, as she had been told.
The two men worked quickly. Leather man bound
her wrists together with silky cords and, stretching
them above her head, fastened them to the bedhead.
The tattooed man parted her legs, spreading them
wide, and fastened her ankles to the two corner posts
at the front of the bed.
The girl appeared from nowhere, gliding into the
144

room from some concealed doorway. She was coal-
black and stark naked, her satin pelt gleaming with a
dull lustre in the intense light. Her small, high-set
breasts rode perkily on her breastbone as she strode
with the springy steps of a gazelle towards Amber's
reclining form.
She stood beside the bed looking Amber full in the
face with an intense, unwavering gaze. Lying there,
helpless, unable to move a muscle, Amber felt an
overwhelming urge to reach out and touch the sweet,
night-black cones and to suckle at the stiff, dark teats.
As if reading her thoughts the girl inclined herself,
offering her left breast to Amber's lips. Hungrily she
sucked the flesh into her mouth, grazing the titbit
with her teeth.
The girl stood upright again and with a light,
effortless movement swung her slim frame onto the
bed. She straddled Amber's body, placing a slender
thigh on either side of the recumbent girl's head.
Amber knew what she must do. Her tongue probed
deeply into the black girl's sex, her lips sucked eagerly
at her juices as she clamped her womanhood to her
mouth. Her nostrils full of the girl's musky scent,
Amber mouthed her pussy avidly. Very soon she
brought her to the threshold of release and, her whole
body shuddering with the intensity of the feeling, the
black girl poured down a torrent of honeyed dew
over Amber's lips, tongue and chin.
Recovering, the girl dismounted from Amber's face
and again stood at the bedside. The tattooed man
handed her a glass flask containing a yellow liquid.
Slowly she withdrew the stopper and poured a stream
of cool, heavily perfumed oil over Amber's breasts
and belly, allowing it to flow over her body and to
dribble onto the satin sheet. Handing the half-empty
145

flask back, she began slowly and luxuriously to
spread the oil evenly over Amber's body, massaging
her until she was slickly oiled from shoulders to toes.
For a while Amber, her head spinning from the
outrageous lewdness of what was happening to her,
revelled in the young woman's touch which soon
threatened to bring her to a screaming pitch of desire.
When the black girl had finished and stood back from
the bed, Amber opened her eyes.
She saw now that a third man had joined the party.
Like the girl he was black, black as night. His body
too had been oiled and he shone under the lights. He
had the frame of a professional body-builder. His
ebony skin was pulled taut over well developed pec-
torals. His muscles rippled as he stood.
He climbed onto the bed and, like the girl before
him, straddled Amber's face, presenting his half-hard
manhood to her lips. Amber smelt the odour of ex-
cited male mingled with the sweetness of the per-
fumed oil. She opened her mouth, letting him feed in
the long, thick stalk of flesh. Desperately she sucked
on him, working her tongue to coat him with the
moisture of her mouth, feeling him grow in her.
As soon as he was fully erect he withdrew from her.
Holding himself with one hand he wiped the ebony
wand over her face to smear her eyelids and nose with
her own saliva. Working downwards he poked at her
armpits, rolling the crown over her sensitive, shaven
skin. He placed the stiff black snake between her
breasts, gathering the titflesh about it, squeezing her
against the hardness. He worked his organ in the
slickly oiled channel, pummelling at the yielding flesh,
thrusting in and out.
Releasing her bosom he glided his body over hers,
oiled flesh slipping over oiled flesh until after what, to
146

Amber, seemed a lifetime of bliss he knelt between
her legs, his probe presented to the threshold of her
womanhood. With a jerk of his hips he was inside
her, buried to the hilt, his groin mashing against her
pubic bone. He started to work in her, thrilling her
while Amber mewled her satisfaction.
Through a haze of delight Amber just glimpsed the
tattooed man couple with the girl, plunging into her
from behind as she bent over the bed beside her. Then
she was distracted by the leather man who, heavily
erect again, thrust his tool between her lips.
As if perfectly orchestrated the three men worked
themselves to the point of eruption while climaxes
rippled through Amber's body. As if by some pre-
arranged signal the black man withdrew from her
suddenly and, kneeling between her outstretched legs,
began to bring himself off by hand. His companions
followed suit and almost in unison their agitated
weapons erupted to lance gouts of creamy spend over
Amber's body. She felt as if she was being covered in
a torrent of male seed as their spending splashed over
her belly and breasts, coated her pubic thatch and
trickled onto the sheet beneath her.
Working together they released her and brought
her to her feet.
'Get in the shower and clean yourself up,' rumbled
leather man curtly as he parted two of the mirrored
panels to reveal a bathroom.
Stiffly, the male effusions already drying on her
skin, Amber crossed the floor to the shower. She
stripped off the remnants of her stockings. They were
ruined, covered in semen and snagged by the bonds
which had secured her to the bed. She discarded the
garter belt and stepped naked under the shower.
The needles of hot, hot water felt good on her skin.
147

She found soap and worked up a lather, coating her-
self in the rich foam. Carefully she washed the stains
from herself, then repeated the soaping and rinsing to
rid her skin of the clinging perfumed oil. She was
ready to step from the shower and was looking for a
towel when leather man motioned her to stay put.
Instantly the water turned from hot to ice cold. Am-
ber howled with shock and endured shuddering as the
icy jets played over her skin.
When it was over she was a shivering mass of
gooseflesh, her nipples puckered and hard like door-
stops. Leather man took her wrist and led her, drip-
ping wet, to the centre of the room. He tied her wrists
together using a leather strap, fixing it to a hook
which hung suspended from a sturdy length of rope.
The muscular guy operated a concealed switch and
with a whirring of machinery the rope was wound up
into the ceiling until Amber was at full stretch, arms
tensioned above her head, just able to stand flat-
footed on the thickly covered floor.
Once more Amber was confronted with a reflection
of herself. Her ivory skin was now scrubbed clean of
all pollution. Her full, rounded breasts were drawn
taut, her midriff concave as her body was strained
upward. The tattooed man stepped behind her. A flail
of leather thongs, knotted at the ends, dangled care-
lessly in this grasp.
Surrounded by the images of her own nakedness
Amber saw the leather thongs arc towards her, saw
them slash across her buttocks. She felt the pain and
saw the crimson patch erupt on her flesh. She
squealed and threw back her head. Her breasts
quivered as a shudder of intense sensation rippled
through her.
Totally immersed in the experience, every one of
148

her senses acutely alive, she watched and felt as the
tattooed man whipped her vigorously. The flail bit at
her flesh until her back, buttocks and tender upper
thighs had turned bright red. Salt tears welled up in
her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She wept with
an uninhibited intensity, her bosom heaving with sobs
drawn from deep within her.
She was on the point of begging for mercy when,
as if sensing that her limit had been reached, the tat-
tooed man relented. Her bottom ached, glowing with
a fiery heat. And the whipping had rekindled other
fires. She knew she had to be damp down there be-
tween her thighs, knew her sex must be awash.
The black man, his phallus again in a state of erec-
tion, seated himself on an upright chair just behind
her. His knees just grazed the back of her thighs. The
motor whirred again and Amber found her arms be-
ing relaxed as the rope unwound from the ceiling. His
hands parted her legs and guided her over his lap.
Her open pussy was positioned just above his uprear-
ing tool. Clasping her hips he drew her down, fixing
her on his thickly stiff erection, down until he was
fully inside her.
Amber had begun to climax as soon as his flesh had
penetrated her. She wriggled on him, squealing and
yelling as her body thrilled to the feel of him, groan-
ing at the last as the final throes of pleasure died
away.
They unhooked her then but left her hands bound
together by the leather strap. The black man, his or-
gan still healthily erect, lay on his back and his two
companions helped Amber to mount him again. She
gurgled with pleasure as once again he entered her
and completed their coupling. In the mirror she saw
the tattooed man crouch behind her, felt him part her
149

bum cheeks and with a quiver felt him steadily pen-
etrate her anus until he was fully lodged in her rec-
tum.
Finally the leather man stood before her and gras-
ping her hair, fed his stiff, meaty rod between her lips
and into her throat. So they used her, working them-
selves inside her until one by one they again spilled
their seed, each one into his chosen orifice.
Amber lay panting on the floor, jism leaking from
her bumhole and her pussy, lost in a sexual daze.
Leather man pulled her to her feet and released her
hands. Once more the blindfold was clamped to her
eyes and she stood for long moments in darkness.
A hand clasped her wrist and a gruff command,
^kCome along,' was rasped at her. Naked, she was led
again along corridors and through doors. She felt the
cold night air on her bare skin, felt rough pavement
under her bare feet. A coat was draped around her
and she was bundled into the car.
Lost in the afterglow of all that had happened she
could not tell, or even care, how long they drove. The
car stopped and abruptly she was pulled from her
seat. Doors slammed and the car had disappeared
even before, in her dazed state, she reached up to
remove the blindfold.
Dawn was just breaking and the morning was chill.
She pulled the thin coat about her and only then
realised she was standing right outside her bungalow.
She fumbled for keys in the coat pocket and let her-
self in. Her one desire now was to tumble into a
warm, soft bed and sleep for a week!
With a satisfied sigh she stumbled in the half dark-
ness into the bedroom. Suddenly the bedside light
snapped on, dazzling her temporarily. When her
vision cleared she was dumbstruck to see Marty,
150

propped up on the pillows, the covers carelessly ar-
ranged over his obviously naked form. He smiled at
her blandly and drew back the covers, showing his
waiting erection.
'Good morning, my dear. I am sure you have had
a entertaining and educational evening. Come to bed
and tell me all about it ..
151

10
Simon weighed the heavy envelope thoughtfully in
the palm of his hand. It had arrived that morning,
propped among the silverware on his breakfast tray.
He had postponed opening it, guessing at its contents
and choosing to let the pleasant feeling of anticipa-
tion linger in his mind.
He turned the thick white packet over in his hand
and examined once again the fat disc of crimson wax
that secured the flap. The cipher that he found em-
bossed on the seal was well known to him. The last
time he had seen that curiously erotic device of a
chained and naked girl it had adorned the thigh of his
correspondent's wife as she, half naked, knelt to re-
ceive due punishment at his hand.
Now breakfasted, the remains of a final cup of cof-
fee at his elbow and the early morning sun warming
him pleasantly, he was ready to give his attention to
the contents of the envelope. With rising excitement,
his fingers even trembling a little, he snapped the seal
and withdrew the contents.
The heavy bond paper was smooth and cool to the
touch. Its whiteness glared in the bright sunlight. It
crackled crisply as he unfolded the single sheet,
smoothing the folds that divided it into quarters. It was
covered in neat copperplate script and signed beneath
with a bold flourish. Avidly he devoured the contents.
152

'My dear young friend,' it began, 'it gave me much
pleasure to entertain you at my home the other even-
ing. I believe we were able to increase the span of
your experience in a most enjoyable way. Indeed, the
obvious enjoyment you derived from your initiation
into our - shall we say - strict and disciplined science
leads me to hope that you will be inclined to accept
this further invitation.
'I should be delighted if you would join me this
evening. I can promise you that you will find amuse-
ment which is quite to your taste.
'If you are agreeable, I shall send my car for you
at about eight o'clock. As ever, please adopt strictly
formal dress.'
The ornate signature at the bottom identified the
sender as Simon's newly acquired friend and mentor
Dr Julius.
Simon reread the note, trying to fathom what
pleasant new experiences were being hinted at. He
refolded the sheet of paper and replaced it in its en-
velope, resolving to call his host and accept the invi-
tation without delay.
It was indeed a most welcome proposal. Since he
had been introduced by Dr Julius to the satisfactions
of meting out punishment to a suitably submissive
and compliant victim, he had thought of little else.
Almost constantly he had recalled to mind the sight
of Lynda's trembling flesh growing red under the
strokes of the tawse as he relished the sound of her
squeals and sobs and the sight of her tears. Quite
naturally he had turned to Anita as a conveniently
available victim. She, ever complaisant, had had to
support an increasing load of humiliation and bend
her vulnerable flesh to receive her share of chastise-
ment. Simon had been delighted when the effect his
153

experiments had had on the brown-skinned girl who
seemed to derive signal pleasure from her sufferings.
Simon was now anxious to add variety to his ex-
periences and so Dr Julius's invitation proved to be
both welcome and timely.
The day passed agreeably and quickly enough.
Eight o'clock found Simon ready and waiting,
dressed in an elegant black tuxedo. The promised car
arrived promptly and Simon allowed the driver to
hold the door for him as he made himself comfortable
in the passenger compartment.
The drive through the gathering darkness was
short. Simon hardly had time to help himself to a
drink from the lavishly stocked bar before the car
came to a halt again. He stepped from the limousine
and stood in front of a substantial wooden door that
seemed to be set directly in a cliff wall. There were no
windows, just the dark oak door flanked by a pillared
doorframe and surrounded by the rough, sandy stone
of a cliff face that towered vertically above, up to the
sky.
Silently the car glided away into the blackness leav-
ing Simon apparently alone. He stepped up to the
door and found a square brass plaque fixed to the
centre, directly above a brass bell-push. He could just
make out the deeply etched lettering on the brass
plate by the light of the moon: 'Hellfire Club'.
Simon considered briefly, then operated the bell-
push. A second or so later he heard a sharp click and
the door swung open under the pressure of his finger
on the bell-push. Beyond, there was a brightly lit pas-
sage that seemed to lead into the heart of the rock.
Simon stepped inside and the door swung shut behind
him.
There appeared to be no alternative but to follow
154

the passage. It inclined gently downwards as he walk-
ed, reinforcing his sense of being drawn down into the
centre of the earth. Simon turned a corner and found
that the passage opened out abruptly into a cavern
beyond which he could see a yet larger chamber,
crowded with people and from which a buzz of con-
versation and bursts of indistinct music reached his
ears.
A young woman, blonde and well made, dressed in
a shimmering evening gown cut low to show off an
expanse of tender, white flesh, stepped towards him.
She greeted him by name, smiling pleasantly, offering
to show him to a table.
Simon followed her and found himself seated in a
discreet booth from which he could observe both the
other guests and the raised podium that occupied the
centre of the room.
He accepted the girl's suggestion that she should
bring him some champagne. While he waited he sat
back, letting his eyes wander aimlessly around the
room. His attention was captured by what he could
now see clearly on the central stage which, he soon
realised, was the focus of attention for everybody else
in the room.
A tall, deeply tanned youth with the muscular de-
velopment of an Adonis stood centre stage. The light-
ing picked out every flex and ripple of his bronzed
flesh which gleamed under a sheen of oil. His torso
tapered from broad shoulders to a narrow waist. A
vigorously swollen erection, drooping under its own
massiveness, swung gently at his groin, the stiffened
flesh erupting from a tangle of black pubic hair.
Before him, kneeling on all fours on a chaise lon-
gue, a shapely blonde girl presented her rump to him.
The youth reached beneath her to cup and to knead
155

the malleable flesh of her heavy breasts. He squeezed
the rich mounds, the flesh overflowing his palms,
drawing her bosom into cones, pinching and rolling
the nipples between his thumb and forefinger.
He turned his attention to her buttocks, running
his palms luxuriously over the taut, quivering half-
moons. He parted her thighs and fixed the head of his
erection in the kneeling girl's sex. Slowly he drove
himself home and grasping her fleshy hips began to
fuck her with long, deliberate strokes. Soon his
weapon was coated in her liberally flowing juices and
gleamed under the lights as it emerged briefly from
between her thighs at each stroke.
Above the stage a battery of huge telescreens re-
played every detail of the action on stage - the girl's
face fixed in an expression of rapture, the youth's
flexing buttocks, his fat rod of flesh cleaving her
quim.
Simon leaned back in his seat, sipping the cham-
pagne that had arrived unobtrusively.
The rutting couple were joined by a third partici-
pant as a raven-haired amazon stepped onto the stage
to position herself behind and a little to the side of
the preoccupied young man. She was naked, save for
a pair of leather spike-heeled thigh boots that
moulded her athletic legs. She was heavily, even the-
atrically made up, emphasising her high cheek bones,
her upward slanting eyes and the cruel set of her
mouth. She was imperious, aloof, cruel but compell-
ingly attractive. In her right hand she held a martinet.
The broad leather lashes dangled, brushing gently
against her boots.
With a toss of her head she began to lash the young
man energetically across the buttocks and thighs, tim-
ing each vicious slash of the leather thongs to his
156

thrusts, catching him as his tool was most deeply em-
bedded in the blonde girl's sex.
The youth's face clearly showed the painful effect
the whipping was having on him. Nevertheless he did
not falter but continued to thrust mechanically in and
out of her pussy.
The lash rose and fell steadily until the seemingly
random pattern of stripes across the young man's but-
tocks had coalesced into a mass of burning redness. As
if by some unobtrusive and prearranged signal between
them, the two women exchanged places and roles.
The statuesque dominatrix reclined on the chaise,
throwing her booted legs over her erstwhile victim's
shoulders as he plunged his cock into her. The
blonde, breathing heavily from her exertions, caught
up the whip and in her turn began to belabour the
youth, now extending the scope of her attack to his
back and shoulders.
'Good evening. I am so glad you could join me,' Dr
Julius's voice broke Simon's rapt concentration on
the lewd tableau that was being enacted before him.
He turned to find his host, benign smiles of welcome
wreathing his face, seated at his elbow.
'I am sure you have seen enough of this,' Dr Julius
continued with a deprecating gesture in the direction
of the stage. 'Come with me now and you shall see
sights which are even more diverting.'
Simon, although he couldn't quite agree with his
companion's assertion, rose at the suggestion and fol-
lowed Dr Julius. Just as they were leaving the cham-
ber, Simon threw a final glance over his shoulder
towards the stage. The trio had again changed places.
The blonde now straddled the youth who reclined on
the chaise while her dark companion lashed her vig-
orously with the martinet.
157

They had now entered another corridor, identical to
the brightly lit white-walled passage that Simon had
found on first entering the underground warren. As they
sauntered easily, side by side, his host chatted genially:
'. .. I founded the club with a few like-minded
friends some years ago. Of course, it was a much
smaller affair then. Membership is still strictly regu-
lated - by invitation only - but numbers do seem to
grow. We have had to extend the system of caverns
quite a long way into the hillside.
'We modelled ourselves on a similar club founded
in Regency England. It seems a certain Lord Dash-
wood had his tenants tunnel into the chalk hills on
his estate to provide him with somewhere to hold his
debauched gatherings. A pleasant idea, eh?
'We called ourselves the "Hellfire Club" to ac-
knowledge our debt to the original.'
The historical significance was quite lost on Simon,
but he had to agree that the idea held many intriguing
possibilities. His guide and mentor was still talking.
'... We have left behind the public areas that are
accessible to the ordinary membership. There are
other chambers as well as the Great Hall where we
met. I am sure you can imagine their uses.
'Now we have penetrated to the inner sanctum,
where only the most privileged are entertained. Here,
for some, obedience and submission are the rule.
Here exotic, some might say perverse, pleasures are
enjoyed by the select few.'
They had now come abreast of a huge window, let
into the wall of the passage, which provided a view
into a well lit chamber. Within, Simon caught sight of
a honey-blonde woman almost submerged under the
press of three naked men. It was clear that they were
oblivious to being observed.
158

Simon gave a start of recognition as, for only a
second, he gained a clear view of the young woman's
face just before one of the men, muscular and black,
forced his rock-hard erection between her lips. At a
slight touch on his sleeve he recovered himself and fell
into step with his guide once again.
'Here now is something that will interest you.
And someone you will recognise.' Dr Julius in-
dicated yet another window let into the side of the
passage.
Simon walked up to the pane of glass and looked
in to another harshly lit chamber.
Lynda was kneeling at the centre of the room. Her
nudity was emphasised by the broad, studded leather
collar that circled her throat. Her arms were drawn
slightly behind her and fixed, spread-eagle fashion, to
a substantial wooden beam that ran the length of the
room. Thick leather straps secured her at the wrists
and around her upper arms so that her upper body
was held rigidly immobile. Her shoulder-blades were
compressed by the posture of her confinement which
had the effect of thrusting her firm, round breasts
upwards and outwards.
A man stood over her. He was masked and apart
from an arrangement of leather straps that criss-
crossed his body, he was naked. He was holding a
riding crop which he presented to Lynda's gaze.
The man strode unhurriedly towards his captive.
Lightly he drew the loop of leather at the tip of the
crop over the slope of Lynda's breasts. He passed the
shaft into the cleavage between the quivering pods,
probing at the succulent flesh. He caressed each dor-
mant nipple lingeringly with the loop of leather. Sud-
denly the crop flicked, cracking the leather over one
nipple then the other. Lynda's face dissolved into an
159

expression of shock. Her lips formed a cry of pain
which, beyond the thick glass remained unheard.
The man repeated the process, flicking the leather
over each nipple in turn, again and again. The flesh
reddened deeply and the relaxed nubs swelled, grow-
ing like stalks from the snowy hillocks of flesh.
Tiring of this play, the man left off and stood to
one side, affording Simon an unhindered view of
what was to happen next. The man raised the crop
and brought the shaft down over the upper slope of
Lynda's upthrust bosom.
A yelp of indignation burst from Lynda's mouth as
a richly red weal erupted on the creamy slope. Simon
saw her lips move rapidly, framing bitter entreaties
for mercy.
The man waited, relaxed, letting the pain of this
first lash subside. The second, when it came, struck
upwards, lashing the shaft across the underside of
both breasts, quivering the opulent flesh.
Lynda howled again and now tears streamed down
her cheeks.
Again there was a pause to let the victim recover, lest
the full effect of subsequent strokes should not be felt in
their fullest effect. Lynda's bosom, the flesh stained by
two livid streaks, rose and fell as deep sobs wracked her.
The third and fourth strokes lashed downwards,
one over each trembling breast, raising weals that
crossed those left by the original onslaught. Lynda
writhed in agony, her arms straining against their
bonds as she desperately sought release.
The man stood impassively by, twirling the shaft of
the crop between his thumb and forefinger. His gaze
swept over his victim as gradually she recovered her-
self. Her eyes, bright with tears, looked beseechingly
to her tormentor, begging silently to be spared.
160

Simon could see that this activity had had an
arousing effect on Lynda's tormentor. His penis,
which had dangled heavily between his thighs had
now reared up, stiff and erect. He took the crown,
swollen and fat and purple like an overripe plum and
placed it at Lynda's lips. Obediently she opened her
mouth, allowing the whole ridged length of him in-
side to lodge in her throat.
Again Simon's attention was called by a gentle
pressure on his sleeve and his companion's voice:
'Most diverting, don't you think? But we have
other business now. Shall we get along?'
Once more Simon fell into step with the dapper
little man, following the passage past several other
chambers, some occupied, some empty, until the cor-
ridor ended at a heavy wooden door. Dr Julius
worked a key in the ornate and old-fashioned lock,
swung open the door and led the way into a comfort-
ably furnished and subtly lit room that contrasted
distinctly with the more austere chambers they had
encountered on their progress.
A tall, bony man whose thin face was framed by a
set of russet whiskers was lounging on a sofa. He
looked up from the book he was reading, remarking
laconically, 'Here you are at last, Julius.'
A second man, younger and darker, who had been
seated primly on the edge of an armchair which was
tucked unobtrusively into a shadowy corner, got to
his feet as they entered. Julius motioned him to sit
down and made the introductions.
'Simon, this is my good friend Konrad.' The thin
man nodded to Simon, laying aside the book. 'And
over here is Ralph, of whom more anon.'
'But first,' he continued, 'I believe you are already
acquainted with these two fine bitches.'
161

Two young women, a blonde and a buxom bru-
nette, identically dressed in dark blue shantung even-
ing gowns that clung to their bodies but left shoulders
and a fine expanse of milky bosom bare, stepped for-
ward. Simon instantly recognised Jo-Anne and Bar-
bara, the flight attendants from his journey to
Fantasyland. For a second Jo-Anne twinkled a look
of recognition before, like Barbara, resuming a pos-
ture of demure submission, head bowed, hands clas-
ped before her.
'Now some refreshment, I think,' Dr Julius re-
sumed. 'Shall it be champagne or something else?'
Simon agreed that it should be champagne. At a
nod from his host, Barbara turned and walked away
to fetch the wine. It was then Simon saw that the
evening gowns lacked a panel at the back, leaving the
girls open to view. He was thus afforded an excellent
perspective on Barbara's finely sculpted, undulating
buttocks framed by taut suspenders and the tops of
sheer blue stockings as she went about her errand.
Simon made himself comfortable on a sofa oppo-
site Dr Julius who had seated himself next to Konrad,
who remained sprawled in the same position they had
first discovered him in. While they waited he allowed
his eyes to wander, taking stock of his surroundings.
The chamber was decorated in the style of an opu-
lent but old-fashioned drawing-room. The harshness
of the bare rock walls was mitigated by rich wall
hangings in which the autumnal tones of gold,
bronze, brown and red seemed to predominate. A
thick carpet, springy beneath the feet, covered the
floor, while here and there rugs were placed.
Simon's eye was attracted by one or two striking
paintings, framed in gilt, that hung over the open
hearth. To his first casual glance they appeared to be
162

unremarkable, classical nudes. Closer inspection,
however, showed the subject matter to be altogether
of a more gross and lewd character. The French tap-
estry that almost covered one wall likewise, at first
glance, appeared to depict a classical hunting scene.
Closer inspection, however, revealed the characters
depicted to be engaged in numerous and exotic sexual
acts, in which the use of various instruments of cor-
rection figured prominently.
Simon's gaze dwelt on the bawdy images for a
while before his attention was captured by a strange
assembly of shining steel and polished wood that
stood over in one corner of the chamber. Its bright
metal and harshly functional aspect contrasted oddly
with the luxurious decoration and furnishings that fil-
led the room. It seemed both out of place and out of
time. Simon stared at the contraption, unable to
fathom its purpose.
'A little contrivance of my own,' Dr Julius com-
mented good-naturedly, seeing the questioning look
on his guest's face. T have simply applied modern
materials and technology to the old-fashioned prin-
ciples of the stocks and the punishment frame. You
shall have a chance to judge it in action before we are
done this evening.'
The girls returned with ice buckets and perfectly
chilled bottles of wine. Barbara poured for Simon,
seeming to linger over-long at the task, letting him
look all he wanted as the plunging neckline revealed
the perfect orbs of her breasts, nestling in the clinging
gown. Her arousing fragrance surrounded him; the
sweetness of warm female flesh mingling with the
dark muskiness of her perfume.
'My word! We are forgetting our guest's comfort,'
Dr Julius remarked heartily as he saw the effect that
163

Barbara's closeness was having on his protege. 'You
have seen such sights already this evening, my friend,
that you must be in dire need. If she pleases you,
make use of the charming bitch!'
There could be little doubt that Simon found her
pleasing. He sipped from his glass as she stood before
him, head bowed, ready to attend to his whim.
'I daresay she would benefit from some slight chas-
tisement. She has a delightful rump that takes a
spanking very well. Don't hold back, my boy.'
The proposal was much to Simon's liking. It needed
but a sign from him for Barbara, complaisantly, to
drape herself across his lap. The folds of her gown
parted, leaving her bottom fully exposed and ready
for Simon's attention. Expertly he locked his leg over
hers while his arm over her shoulders held her rigid.
Indeed the girl had a fine arse. Two finely rounded
half-moons of ivory flesh, separated by a deep dark
cleft, above sleekly muscular thighs. Simon ran his
hand appreciatively over the taut mounds of silken
flesh. He parted the cleft to glimpse the puckered pink
rosette of her anus. He gently drew a finger over the
sensitive skin and saw the tiny hole contract in instant
response. He felt his own member grow rigid, trying
to push through the cloth of his trousers against the
supine girl's belly.
The first slap of hard palm against yielding bum
flesh exploded with a staccato crack. Barbara wrig-
gled her bottom and exclaimed in pain and surprise,
'Unff!' Simon watched with satisfaction as the white
palmprint gradually blushed a bright red.
He followed with brisk, sharp slaps, making the
ripe flesh jiggle under the impact. Barbara rewarded
his efforts with shrieked cries of pain, mewling and
groaning as her bottom turned red.
164

When he had finished with her, Barbara's bottom
was glowing a bright cherry red. He ran his palm over
the cheeks to feel the warmth. The girl's thighs had
parted slightly and his hand roamed between to dis-
cover her pubic fleece was already dewed with her
juices.
He allowed her to rise. She passed a hand behind
to comfort herself as she watched him fumble to re-
lease himself from the confines of his trousers, watch-
ing as his erect penis flopped into sight.
Jo-Anne was already there behind her to release
her from her gown, the silken sheath gliding down her
legs to pool at her feet. Beneath, Simon noted with
approval, she wore a tight blue basque, cut high to
show off her pubic fur and offering the merest plat-
form for her heavy, well rounded breasts.
She straddled him as he sprawled on the sofa, fit-
ting his rod into her quim, lowering herself onto him,
gobbling his length greedily inside her. Simon found
his face delightfully buried in the soft, perfumed flesh
of her bosom.
As she rode him, slowly rising sensuously up and
down on the spike of flesh trapped inside her, Simon
paid due homage to her bosom. His tongue lapped at
the ripe flesh. He drew gobbets of breast into his
mouth, nip-nibbling the sweetness, reddening the deli-
cate skin with toothmarks. Stiffened nipples found
their way under his tongue, the sensitive nubs still
growing as he sucked on them.
Barbara, still levering herself untiringly on supple
thighs, her honey-dripping sex slurping about the
thick flesh rod inside her, groaned softly as the sweet
sensations flowed through her and clasped Simon's
head between her mammaries.
Simon felt his seed stirring within him and he
165

clasped her to him, biting hard on her flesh as his
penis throbbed inside her to pump a stream of creamy
semen into her womb. Barbara in response threw her
legs tightly about him, her cunt clasping his pulsing
manhood as she came, squealing in her release.
The girl rested, panting against his chest, her wet-
lipped mouth open against his cheek. Then, unplug-
ging his wilting member from her pussy, she climbed
down from his lap. A few sips of champagne and
Simon, basking in a warm glow of satiety, came to
himself again, his clothing rearranged and the half-
naked brunette nestling against him on the sofa.
'Now shall we proceed with our business?' Dr Jul-
ius enquired with a grin and was answered with a
deep throated, 'Hear, hear' from Konrad.
'Jo-Anne. Barbara. Stir yourselves. Fetch her in.'
At their master's command the girls were all obedi-
ence and industry, hurrying from the room to return
moments later with a third young woman whom they
escorted to the centre of the chamber, turning her to
face Dr Julius and his companions.
She stood, head bowed in token of submission, her
hands clasped before her. Her rich copper hair
framed a girlish face, hugging the contours and flick-
ing upwards just below the jawline. It gleamed with a
soft sheen in the lamplight. Her look of girlish inno-
cence tinged with mischief was emphasised by a but-
ton nose and the dusting of butterscotch freckles on
her cheeks.
She was dressed, after the fashion of a penitent, in
a simple white linen shift that just brushed above her
bare feet. The material was so fine that Simon could
clearly make out the two dark patches where her
nipples jutted against the fabric and a third, darker
still, at her pubis.
166

'Ralph here has brought his mistress, Angela, to
our attention.
At these words Simon once more became aware of
the dark young man's presence in the room. He still
sat unobtrusively in his corner, not part of the group
but an onlooker.
'It is his wish that she be taught the ways of obedi-
ence and submission. Above all he wishes her to re-
ceive due chastisement for her waywardness and
certain crimes against him. Tonight she undergoes her
initiation into these ways. After, she will serve here in
the Hellfire Club and pursue her education.'
Ralph fidgeted slightly on the edge of his seat, his
attention fixed on the white-clad girl who stood be-
fore them. Angela, for her part, remained standing in
the submissive posture, showing no reaction to Dr
Julius's words.
'I trust that she has been properly prepared.'
A brief silence ensued. Dr Julius, receiving no con-
trary response to his assertion, continued in a mat-
ter-of-fact tone.
'Then let us have a look at her. Jo-Anne.'
Jo-Anne at once stepped behind the girl and re-
leased the fastenings of the linen shift, drawing it off
Angela's shoulders, stripping her of her only cover-
ing.
The theme of butterscotch freckles was continued
over the creamy flesh of the girl's shoulders and upper
bosom. Her small, compact breasts, apple-round,
were carried high on her ribcage. The nipples were
proud cones, starkly blood red as if someone had al-
ready pinched them to soreness.
Dr Julius walked up to the naked girl who stood
motionless on the spot. His hand brushed the copper
curtain from her cheek, fell to her shoulder. Idly he
167

stroked her, moulding the girlish waist, caressing her
hips, running the back of his hand over the swell of
her belly below her navel. His hand went to her
breast, cupping and moulding the swelling flesh. For
the first time he addressed her directly:
'Do you know why you are here?'
'Y ... yes.' The reply was soft but distinct and aud-
ible.
'Yes master!' and the hand on her breast tightened.
'Yes master,' with a wince of discomfort.
'Then tell me why!' with a dark undertone of men-
ace.
'Because I am a little whore who does not know
how to behave,' Angela blurted, glancing at the im-
passive Ralph, her cheeks colouring distinctly.
'And do you know what will happen to you here?'
'Yes master. I will be taught to obey.'
'And what else?'
'I'm to submit to punishment.'
During this catechism Dr Julius had been kneading
the soft breast flesh in his hand with increasing sav-
agery, making his victim squirm under his touch.
Now he drew his fingers over the slope of flesh, catch-
ing the nipple between thumb and forefinger, pinch-
ing the pert nub to coax a tiny groan of anguish from
Angela's lips.
'Excellent. So we shall try you a little before we
begin in earnest.'
So saying, he took her by the wrist and started to
lead her to a well stuffed armchair placed before the
open hearth. Now that she was faced with the near
reality of suffering corporal punishment her docility
and compliant manner deserted her. She began to
tremble, biting her lip and resisting her captor's grip
so that he was forced to drag rather than lead her.
168

Grasping her shoulder he forced her down over the
arm of the chair using his knee and a foot to roughly
part her thighs and place her feet as he required.
From his vantage point Simon was presented with
a fine view of the girl's compact buttocks and just a
glimpse of her anus peeping in the cleft between her
taut bum cheeks.
Dr Julius, in no hurry, went to a glass cabinet and
helped himself to a leather paddle. He strode back to
his waiting victim, flexing the thick pad of leather in
both hands.
He started with a flurry of light, rapid strokes,
which fell evenly over the whole of the girl's behind
to bring a light pink flush to the cheeks. Angela drew
in her breath sharply and responded to each blow
with a variety of whimpering cries, wriggling her pos-
terior in a vain attempt to avoid the paddle.
'Be quiet girl!' Julius commanded, pausing to ad-
mire his handiwork. 'We have barely begun. I do not
wish to restrain you yet. Control yourself.'
The beating began in earnest after that. Dr Julius
placed a series of stinging blows over the poor girl's
flinching bottom, striking first the right cheek then
the left, then squarely over the fullest flesh of her red-
dening fesses. So he established a ponderous rhythm
- right buttock, left buttock, centre - each stroke
landing crisply and felt distinctly in its fullest effect by
his squirming victim.
Angela struggled to hold back her cries, clinging to
the arm of the chair, her face contorted by a grimace
of pain. Soon though, she was squealing anew as the
supple leather slapped at her increasingly sore flesh.
The heat from her bottom began to spread through
her, warming her belly, heating her quim which, des-
pite the pain in her fesses, began to fill with the dew
169

of arousal. Inexplicably to her, she found her cries of
anguish turn to moans of passion. The sexual fever
grew inside her, edging her nearer to the edge of re-
lease. She found herself pleading:
'Don't stop. Harder. Yes, oh yes! Ooh, aaah!'
Dr Julius, recognising the reaction, redoubled his
efforts and was rewarded by the sight of his victim
throwing back her head and arching her back as a
shuddering, screaming climax overwhelmed her. Eyes
wide in amazement at the unexpected and uncontrol-
lable reaction of her body, she squealed in perverse
elation,
'Ooh, yes! I'm coming - yesss!'
Stunned by the power of her climax she slumped,
limp and motionless, over the arm of the chair.
Simon glanced around at his companions. Ralph
still sat stiffly upright on the edge of his seat, seem-
ingly unmoved by what he had witnessed. Jo-Anne
had curled herself next to Konrad on the sofa. At
some point her dress had been removed and the
skimpy bra was pushed up above her breasts. Her
stockinged legs were drawn up beneath her. Konrad's
thickly erect penis was grasped in her hand. She wan-
ked him gently.
Dr Julius's little grey beard wagged up and down
as he nodded his head in satisfaction.
'Excellent. Quite excellent,' he murmured to him-
self. Then addressing the room in general, 'I always
think it best to . .. ahem .. . soften a novice before
the real punishment begins. And I believe we have
given the bitch a quite surprising insight into herself.'
With these words he caught the young woman by
the wrist and drew her to her feet. By now Angela
had begun to recover her senses. She passed an inef-
fective hand over her stinging bottom, trying to
170

soothe the hurt. She made no more struggle but allow-
ed herself to be led quietly by Dr Julius and suffered
him to secure her wrists and ankles to the queer con-
traption that Simon had remarked on earlier.
Once the girl had been fixed to the assembly with
her arms raised a little above her head and with her
legs parted and fettered at the ankles, Simon could
quite clearly make out the purpose of the device. Dr
Julius touched a control and a low hum of machinery
came from within the framework of steel and wood.
Slowly the spars to which the girl's limb were secured
began to move, drawing her arms and legs apart until
she hung suspended, spread-eagled in a perfect 'X'.
Another touch on the controls and the girl was in-
clined, hanging from her bonds, her bare, defenceless
flesh presented ready to be punished.
Dr Julius proffered the handle of a martinet to
Simon, smiling his invitation.
'Come, my dear fellow. Use her as you will. But I
would advise you to go lightly at first and so prolong
the sport.'
Simon eagerly rose from his seat and took the whip
from his host's hand. Standing behind his victim he
hefted the instrument in his hand, feeling its pleasing
heaviness, testing the balance. Experimentally he
flicked the lashes, stirring the air behind Angela who,
as far as she was able, winced in anticipation.
He draped the thongs over a bare shoulder and saw
the taut muscle quiver at the coolness of its touch.
Slowly he dragged the fan of leather strips down her
concave back, over her glowing buttocks, letting it
slip from her upper thighs. The girl whimpered softly
and braced herself against the inevitable stinging
shock.
Simon drew back and let fly. The lashes curled over
171

Angela's shoulders, driving a cry from her lips, draw-
ing a grimace of anguish on her face. He whipped her
steadily then. The lash rose and fell, covering her
back with streaks of red that soon conjoined into a
crimson glow of pain. Then he visited her thighs, curl-
ing the thongs alternately about each taut column,
flicking the leather tongues between to tease the secret
entrance of her sex.
He paused for a moment, glancing across to his
mentor for some sign of approbation. Dr Julius had
removed his clothing and now, stark naked, was on
the point of introducing his stiffened penis into Jo-
Anne's distended bumhole.
Simon recalled to mind the tightness of that orifice
about his own finger as he himself had explored Jo-
Anne's fundament, recalled her whispered, 'Oh that's
nice,' as her anal muscles treated the intruder to a
squeeze of welcome.
The blonde girl's eyes widened and her mouth for-
med a perfect 'O' of pained surprise as the tumescent
organ forced the tight porchway of her anus. Straight
away her lips relaxed into a satisfied smile as the
pleasant sensations of living flesh filling her tight
cranny supplanted the momentary discomfort.
Simon returned to his labours with renewed vigour.
Angela hung on the frame and suffered. She
squealed throatily as the whip tested her, until she
could squeal no more and her cries resolved to dull
moans and whimpers.
Simon turned his attention to the ripe swell of her
buttocks, letting the lash rekindle the flames in her
glowing fesses. The poor girl wept bitter tears and
deep sobs convulsed her frame as she abandoned her-
self to an ecstasy of anguish.
Instinct informed Simon that further punishment
172

at this point would prove unproductive, indeed would
exhaust the poor girl beyond revival and spoil any
hope of further sport. He put up the whip, therefore,
and standing to one side looked again to his mentor
for guidance. Angela was left to hang, tears streaming
down her face, continuing to whimper piteously.
Konrad extricated himself from Barbara's clinging
embrace and approached the punishment frame,
standing to face the keening girl. At some point he
had stripped off his clothes and now was, like his
friend Julius, baby naked. His spare, bony frame lent
emphasis to the erect phallus that swung at his groin,
thrusting fiercely from the thick nest of ruddy pubic
curls beneath his belly.
He reached down and operated a control. The hum
of machinery again came from the contraption as,
once more, the steel bars to which Angela was secured
were set in motion. Gradually her limbs were allowed
to relax, her arms were brought to her sides, her feet
touched ground. The mechanisms continued in
motion and the girl was forced into the posture dic-
tated by the unrelenting pressure. When, finally, the
machinery fell silent the girl was kneeling, head and
torso held rigidly erect, her arms clamped to her sides.
Konrad stepped forward, cradling his erect man-
hood in one hand, presenting the fat, smoothly purple
dome to Angela's lips. It was obvious what was now
required of her and she responded with meek obedi-
ence.
The tip of her tiny pink tongue darted from be-
tween her lips to lap at the crown. She strained for-
ward against her restraints, lips parted to engulf him.
Konrad held himself just within reach of her tongue,
allowing her to coat his member with her saliva.
Glistening with her spittle he then rewarded her by
173

plunging his rod into her mouth, burying himself
throat-deep in her. Grasping her head he began to
fuck her mouth, her lips slithering the length of his
flesh pole as he pistoned in and out of her. She sucked
hard on him, drawing her cheeks concave with the
effort, letting her tongue and teeth work frantically
on him.
Roughly he pushed her head away and let his en-
gorged penis slip from her lips. With long, leisurely
strokes he worked his palm over the moistened shaft
to coax his seed to erupt. His buttocks clenched and
with a deep groan he jetted a thick wad of cream over
her body. He wanked himself vigorously then,
sending streams of jism pouring over her breasts. The
flood trickled over her nipples, running over the
underside and on down to her belly.
Konrad jetted a final, feeble spurt of come over
Angela's defiled bosom before reaching down again
to operate the control panel. Once more the mechan-
ical hum thrummed from the machine, again the
metal spars were set in motion to force Angela's body
into a new posture.
When the mechanisms came to rest again the girl
had been forced to kneel on all fours with her back
arched, thus raising her buttocks. Jo-Anne uncoiled
herself from the lascivious embrace of Dr Julius and
came to Simon's side. Deftly she relieved him of his
clothing. Her slender, well manicured fingers manipu-
lated his penis, coaxing it to a full erection. She
cradled his hardness on her palm as she smoothed a
coating of clear jelly over the ridged and straining
length. When she turned to Angela, working a glob
of the same jelly in the girl's bum cleft, Simon under-
stood, with elation, that he was now invited to make
use of the helpless girl's anus.
174

As soon as Jo-Anne had finished her ministrations
Simon fitted the head of his cock into Angela's bum-
hole, drawing the crimsoned cheeks apart and forcing
himself into the clasp of the tightly muscled orifice.
He pushed home against a slight resistance, working
himself in the dark channel with a screwing motion
until he was fully lodged. She was deliciously tight.
Her fundament locked around the stiff intruder,
squeezing warmly, welcomingly.
Tentatively he began to move inside her, fucking
the girl's arse as she, coming alive to the pleasant
sensations of a pulsing cock filling her bumhole, be-
gan to croon with pleasure.
Jo-Anne, still at his side, touched a control to set
yet another mechanism in motion. A domed rod of
polished steel emerged beneath Angela and with un-
erring accuracy rose to fit itself into her gaping vulva,
slipping easily inside to fill the foaming void.
Simon felt the device through the thin wall of mem-
brane that separated Angela's fundament from her
sex. He felt the steady, electric throb as the steel
pleasure wand pulsed inside her. As the thrills flowed
through her Angela cried out in exhilaration. She be-
gan to come in a continuous series of orgasms, wave
after wave of sexual delirium crashing over her. With
each new climax her sphincter clamped around Sim-
on's tool to milk the seed from him. Ultimately he
could control himself no longer and with a groan un-
leashed a stream of sperm into her fundament.
Angela was still coming as Simon's wilting rod slip-
ped from her, drawing a trace of his spending with it
to trickle over her relaxed bum cleft. Likewise, as the
steel phallus slurped from her sex, her body still trem-
bled as residual waves of pleasure subsided in her.
There now seemed to pass some unseen signal for
175

a general rout to commence. Even Ralph left his cor-
ner and, doffing his clothes, pleasured himself on Bar-
bara's ripe flesh. Angela too was not forgotten but
was made to taste further chastisement and humili-
ations before she was released from the steel embrace
of the punishment frame. Then, when all had sated
their lusts and she was deemed to have been properly
initiated into the rites of submission, she was led
away to a cell to recuperate before embarking on her
term of servitude in the Hellfire Club.
As the party broke up Dr Julius warmly embraced
Simon and pressed a flat plastic key into his palm,
urging that he should feel free to use the facilities of
the club whenever he should be so inclined. Simon
placed the gift in his pocket and promptly forgot
about its existence.
176

10
Amber was counting the days. Seven of them had
already gone. Seven days of her precious time in this
enchanted place, this Fantasyworld where fantasy
was made reality - where you could touch and feel,
smell and taste the stuff of your dreams. It had been
a hell of a good week.
Yes. A hell of a week. A week in which all her
concepts about herself and her sexuality had been
turned on their head. A week in which she had been
brought in contact "with a wholly unexpected side of
her personality. Her encounter with Marty and what
she had been made to undergo at the Hellfire Club
had put her in touch with a welter of unknown and
unsuspected sensualities. She had been made to suf-
fer, to submit and to beg, and she had loved it.
She had also been made to think deeply about her
dissatisfactions with her life in the world controlled
by the Network. Although even now she couldn't
articulate for herself what exactly was missing from
her life, emotionally she could sense what was lack-
ing. She had only to contrast the richness of experi-
ence and sensation, real sensation, that was available
to her here with the aridity of life at home, with only
the Reality Machine and its facsimiles of true life for
relief.
She made up her mind to the fact that she had
177

fallen in love. Fallen in love with reality, with tastes
and smells and contact with other warm-blooded,
passionate and lustful souls. Parting with all this
would be as hard as parting from a lover. If only it
could last longer; could last forever.
The water was cooling. Amber leaned forward to
open the tap, letting a fresh cascade of hot water into
the bath. Lazily she went back to soaping herself and
inspecting her body. She was gratified to find virtually
all trace of her sufferings in the Hellfire Club had
been effaced from her body. Just a purplish bruise on
her thigh marred the smooth, lightly tanned skin.
On her return from her ordeal she had kept a low
profile for a day or two. Mostly she had stayed in and
around the bungalow, nursing her stripes but also
savouring the afterglow of a perverse passion that
had been thoroughly and expertly sated.
During that time Luis had continued to play the
subservient role that Amber had enjoyed during the
earlier part of her stay. Just to reassure herself Amber
had been at pains to put him through his paces. For
those two days she had given him a hard time, with
constant humiliations, punishments and duties that
had had to be carried out exactly to her requirements.
Luis through it all showed that he was quite set in the
role of submissive servant just like those that peopled
his mistress's fantasies. For Amber there was now an
added piquancy since she knew at first hand how her
victim must be feeling as she heaped pain and indig-
nities on him.
And now only three more precious weeks re-
mained. In just twenty-one short days she must return
home and again become the obedient subject of the
Network.
She felt herself sorely tempted by Sal's insistent
178

suggestions. She would have loved to be able to stay
on. Her small experience had shown her how satisfy-
ing working in a large-scale movie industry could be,
as compared to the crudeness of the Icon discs pro-
duced at home. Then there was the freedom to
choose. To be able to refuse assignments with Cre-
ators that one found unsympathetic. To be able to
work with people who got the best from you and who
let you participate in the creative process.
She kept asking herself, Why not? Still, while she
couldn't explain it, she just knew there had to be
more to it than just staying put and making a new
life. There were sure to be difficulties, sanctions to be
overcome. Otherwise, why had no one else decided to
opt out of the Network's all-enveloping, suffocating
system? If she could just understand the answer to the
question 'Why not?' then she might just yield to the
temptation and try to confront whatever obstacles
might be standing, albeit invisibly, in her way.
But, as yet, she still felt unsure of herself. It was a
big step to break with years of conditioning which
had been bred in since birth, which taught her not to
question the Network, to obey and to keep on obey-
ing. Yet now she was actively contemplating that very
step. The idea had taken hold of her mind.
If only, she thought, she could find an ally. Some-
one in the same condition as herself. An Outlander
seduced by the freedom and the sheer joys of reality.
Someone she could work on, persuade to rebel - for
that is what her contemplated action would be, a re-
bellion against the very system that had kept the
world intact for nearly two hundred years. That, she
thought, might just give her the courage.
With a jerk Amber brought herself abruptly back
to reality, banishing the hopeless thoughts from her
179

mind. This was not making the best of her precious
time. There were no new experiences to be savoured
lying here, moping, in the cooling waters of her bath.
She must get out, see people, experience life. Decisive-
ly she surged from the water and called Luis to bring
her a towel.
'Would you mind if I sat here?'
Simon looked up from the book he was reading
and his mouth fell open. It was her. It was Empress
Catharine. It was the soprano with the Berlin Philhar-
monic. It was the girl he had glimpsed beneath the
press of nude male bodies in the Hellfire Club. She
was standing beside him, honey-blonde curls tumbl-
ing over her shoulders, gesturing at the empty sun-
lounger alongside his own.
Conscious that he was gaping stupidly, he closed his
mouth and managed to invite Amber to occupy the
sun-lounger. Mutual introductions and smiles followed
as she settled herself, stretching out long legs and half
reclining in the shade thrown by a large parasol.
Gathering his wits Simon ran his eyes appraisingly
over his new companion, taking in the sight of her
appetising body clad in a skimpy electric-blue bikini.
He admired the swell of her bosom that overfilled the
half-cup halter top. Noticed tanga briefs that barely
covered her pudenda, showing an expanse of flat
tummy and the deep dimple of her navel.
'So you're an Outlander just like me. How interest-
ing,' Amber was saying.
'Outlander?' Simon queried.
'Oh, sorry. I seem to be going native. It's what the
Californians call us people from outside. You know,
you're the first I've met and I've been here over a
week.'
180

'Oh, I see. By the way you must forgive me if I was
staring. It seems that I've seen you somewhere be-
fore.'
'That's very likely. I'm an Icon, you see.'
Simon nodded at this rather superfluous piece of
information and invited Amber to have a drink with
him. Gratefully Amber accepted: 'something long and
cool'. So they lay side by side, warming themselves in
the sun, sipping their drinks and exchanging the
superficial details of their lives.
As they talked Amber in her turn appraised the
looks of her new acquaintance. She liked what she
saw. He had a compact, youthful body - not overbur-
dened with muscle but nicely covered; not skin and
bone anyway. He looked in good shape, probably
quite strong. Already the Californian sun had
mitigated the pallor of his skin. He was getting quite
a tan actually.
While she listened her mind was in overdrive. Had
she so easily stumbled on the ally she needed? Grad-
ually Simon became more at ease in her company and
the conversation took on a more personal note. Sub-
tly Amber encouraged Simon to reveal himself, coax-
ing with an interested comment here, an exclamation
of empathy there. Rapidly he progressed from talk of
his work as a Creator to candid revelations of his
frustrations with that work and confessions of his dis-
satisfaction with his life.
Amber felt her heart quicken. She could barely be-
lieve what she was hearing. It was as if Simon were
expressing her own thoughts and feelings. In that in-
stant her mind was made up. She would stay! She
would escape her old life. Simon would help her, help
her to find the way ...
But she needed time to think, to plan how to turn
181

this chance encounter to her advantage. She mustn't
let him slip from her grasp now. She must find a way
to keep him with her so she could influence him -
make him want to rebel too.
With a smile she swung her legs off of the lounger
and got to her feet. She held out her hand to him,
murmuring, 'Mmm, it's so warm. Let's cool off in the
pool.'
Simon caught her hand and let himself be led to the
water's edge. Without a second of hesitation he fol-
lowed her lead and dived into the cool blue water.
Seconds later he broke the surface and found himself
swimming powerfully towards his new friend as she
bobbed in the water a few yards from him. The sub-
liminal tuition he had received on his first night in the
resort had worked well and he found himself perfectly
at home in this until-now foreign environment.
As Simon approached, Amber dived again and
swam away, inviting his pursuit. As ever, she revelled
in the caress of the cool, relaxing water on her skin,
but all the while her mind was racing. She broke sur-
face a little way in front of him, waved and again
dived beneath the surface. Simon followed her but
always found her tantalisingly just out of reach.
She made Simon play this impromptu game of
chase until she had devised her plan of campaign.
Then, her mind set, she abruptly abandoned the game
and swam lazily to the poolside and hauled herself
out of the water. Simon, his arms tingling with the
unfamiliar effort of swimming, followed her. They
stood together, towelling themselves dry.
Amber stretched luxuriously, reaching hands to the
sky, pushing out her bosom. She shook out her hair
in a honey-blonde cloud. With an arch twinkle in her
deep amber eyes she remarked in a matter-of-fact
182

tone, 'You know, I think the sun is getting a bit too
intense for me. I don't want to burn. Why don't we
go inside? Perhaps we could cool off in your suite?'
Her coy smile made clear the underlying meaning
of her innocent words. It was an invitation not many
men would have refused and Simon was not one of
them. Amber slung her straw bag over her shoulder
and, turning on her heels, set off for the hotel build-
ing, the wooden soles of her elegant beach sandals
click-clacking on the concrete path. Simon followed
in her wake, watching the tempting rise and fall of her
bottom. Already he felt an anticipatory stirring at his
groin.
He followed her into the hotel and into the elevator
that seemed to be standing waiting just for them. He
touched the button for his floor and the doors closed.
The elevator had hardly gathered momentum
when, to his amazement, Amber reached over and
flipped the emergency switch to stop the car between
floors. With a look of sheer devilment on her face she
slipped to her knees bringing herself close to his
groin. She reached back to release the halter top, let-
ting her breasts tumble into sight. She worked the
skimpy swimming shorts over Simon's buttocks, drew
them down below his knees.
His penis, already starting to swell, bobbed up and
down as she freed him from his covering. She drew
her breasts together, enfolding the half-hard rod in
the softly elastic flesh. She felt him grow to full
tumescence as the meaty pole burrowed against her
bosom.
She released him, cupped a hand under his testes,
weighing the precious eggs on her palm. She steadied
the shaft with her other hand, put out her tongue to
lick tentatively at the salt-tasting tip. Her lips opened
183

and she swallowed him in, filling her mouth with him,
jamming the crown into her throat. Her teeth and
tongue worked at him, her cheeks concaved as she
sucked hard on him. Her hands went to his buttocks
forcing him against her, his pubic hair tickling her
lips and chin.
She felt the meaty engine throb under her tongue,
felt the glans twitch against the back of her throat.
Then he was spending, pumping a long stream of
creamy jism into her throat.
She released him with a gentle 'plop' and jumped
to her feet. Quickly she fastened the halter top, scoop-
ing her breasts back into their covering before she
operated the switch to set the elevator back in
motion. Simon barely had time to retrieve his shorts
and hide his deflating organ before the doors opened
and a man and a woman got in. Simon felt his cheeks
flush hotly with embarrassment and caught a glimpse
of his companion smiling wickedly at his discomfort.
They got out at Simon's floor and walked side by
side along the silent corridor. Amber asked provoca-
tively, 'Do you think I was terribly naughty - you
know, what I did in the elevator?'
'Yes. It was fun, but naughty.'
'Do you think I deserve to be punished?' Her voice
was arch and little-girlish.
Simon caught her drift and realised where this sally
was meant to lead. This was getting better and better.
'I certainly do think your naughtiness deserves to
be punished. Will you submit to the punishment I
prescribe?'
'Ooh yes. Whatever you say, I will suffer.'
'OK, we'll give you a spanking on your delightful
rump for starters,' and he patted Amber's well
rounded rear end.
184

Simon's hand was just resting on the handle of the
door to his suite when he suddenly recalled what lay
on the other side.
Since his introduction to the pleasures to be found
in meting out punishment and humilation under the
indulgent guidance of the skilled Dr Julius, Simon had
often practised his new-found skills on poor Anita.
She, of course, had proved compliant and submissive,
bending to receive the lash or cane on her bare flesh
according to his whim. That morning Simon had tried
her with the tawse on some trifling pretext. He had
given her a sound leathering and then, when he had
got her bottom stinging nicely and the tears fairly
coursing down her cheeks he had decided to restrain
her for a while and had tied her to a chair. There she
would remain, tightly bound, her limbs stiffening and
her bum throbbing until he should feel inclined to
release her. And that was just how he had left her when
he took himself off'to the poolside to sun himself.
He hesitated for barely a moment. Then the idea of
confronting both of his victims with each other
caught his fancy. Yes, Anita could look on, bound
and helpless while he spanked Amber and did what-
ever else he might then feel like. He opened the door
and ushered his guest inside.
Amber barely reacted when she saw Anita, still tied
in the position in which Simon had left her a few
hours before. A bunched-up stocking had been thrust
into her mouth to gag her. Her ankles were tied to the
chair legs with thin leather cords, ensuring that her
thighs were well parted to show her pubic region. Her
arms were drawn behind her back and tied together
at the wrists and elbows.
Amber turned to face Simon and asked in a mat-
ter-of-fact tone, 'How do you want me?'
185

'Naked and over my knee, of course.'
Once again Amber unfastened the halter top and
let it drop to the floor. She shucked off the tanga
briefs and stood waiting while Simon arranged a
chair where Anita could get a good view of the pro-
ceedings. He reached for Amber's hand and drew her
down, arranging her over his lap.
The first slap caught Amber squarely over the meat
of both buttocks, the staccato report seeming to echo
in the stillness of the room. Amber squealed,
'Owwch!' and wiggled her bottom. Then Simon was
warming her properly the open palm of his hand
beating a regular tattoo over the quivering flesh of
her nates. Amber squirmed and ground her belly
against the reawakening rod of Simon's penis which
was becoming aroused again. Looking down over his
victim's shoulder, Simon could just see and savour
the grimace of pain that appeared on her face as each
blow landed with a healthy slap on her jiggling rump.
Simon's palm was beginning to sting and he could
feel the heat from Amber's well warmed seat. He
desisted and let her rise. She regained her feet and
adopted the classic pose of humility assumed by those
who have submitted to punishment, hands on head,
letting her tormentor view the effects of his labours.
Simon enjoyed the view. He had certainly brought a
most satisfactory glow to her nether cheeks.
He looked his fill, then rose and unhurriedly stripped
off his shorts, showing himself nakedly rampant. Glan-
cing over her shoulder Amber glimpsed his erection
swaying at his groin and knew what was to happen
next. At that moment, however, she had a sudden
inspiration that could add further spice to the occasion.
Dropping her arms she rummaged in her straw
beach bag until she unearthed a small rubber object,
186

a trophy from her night with Sal and Fern. It consis-
ted of a small penis-shaped tube, about three inches
long, well ridged and studded, with a sort of pliable
flap encircling one end.
Gently parting the lips of Anita's sex she inserted
the tube into the helpless girl's pussy. It slipped in
easily with a soft slurping sound, bearing witness to
the girl's already aroused condition. Carefully, Am-
ber arranged the thin rubber flap, making sure that it
was firmly in contact with the bud of Anita's clitoris
and with the swollen and sensitive lips of her sex.
With a smile of encouragement she removed the
bunched-up stocking from Anita's mouth. Then she
reached between the brown girl's legs to touch the
base of the device she had just positioned in her sex.
At once it began to emit a muted buzzing sound.
Straight away a tremor shook Anita's body from
head to toe. She gasped as the pleasurable shock-
waves coursed through her frame. She closed her eyes
as the device vibrating at her core built up a steady
rhythm. She groaned, 'Ooh, AAA . . . arghh .. .
Mmm!' as each new sensation throbbed within her.
Turning away, Amber knelt on all fours at the feet
of the ecstatically groaning girl, who was already lost
in the throes of her own pleasure. Simon knelt behind
her and, seizing her hips, drew her onto his straining
erection, embedding himself in her womanhood that
was already awash with her sexual juices.
He leaned forward, clasping a ripe breast in each
hand, using the pliant flesh to lever himself in and out
of Amber's cunt. He squeezed tightly, coaxing a soft
squeal from between her lips as he began to thrust
vigorously into her. His belly slapped hard against
Amber's sore buttocks, sending shock tremors ripp-
ling through her frame.
187

The silence of the room was broken. The air was
filled with Simon's animal grunts as he pounded into
Amber's quim, and by the higher-pitched counter-
point of the mewling groans of pleasure that escaped
from the lips of both of the women.
Anita squealed and writhed in her bonds as orgasm
after orgasm threatened to burst her apart. Amber
felt herself in the grip of a giant hand, her whole body
quaking as the pounding meat in her sex tunnel drove
her to a shattering, screaming climax.
Simon too felt himself nearing release but, wishing
to prolong his pleasure he withdrew from her as Am-
ber experienced her orgasm. Amber, her limbs
trembling, sank panting in a heap on the floor. With
a subtle pressure at her flank, Simon coaxed her over
until she lay flat on her back, her legs thrown wide
apart.
Simon looked down at her as he sought to master
himself, enjoying the sight of her heaving breasts
which glistened now under a light film of sweat. Feel-
ing that he was once more back in control of himself
he reached down between her parted thighs to probe
at her sex lips with gentle but insistent fingers. He
pushed the labia apart, dabbling in the free-flowing
moisture within her. He wriggled his fingers, teasing
her, then started to thrust them gently in and out with
a slight twisting movement. Amber's eyes opened
wide at this new sensation and again she was mumbl-
ing incoherent, animal pleasure sounds, growling
softly to herself with enjoyment.
Simon smeared the rich, musky juices that bubbled
from her over her lower body, dampening the furry
bush at her pubis, coating her inner thighs and lower
abdomen.
He lowered his head and inhaled the richly musky
188

smells of her arousal. His tongue lapped over her pu-
bic mound, tasting the bitter-sweet savour of her
love-honey. Then his mouth was clamped over her
lower lips, sucking copious drafts of her dew into his
mouth. Involuntarily Amber clasped her thighs about
his head, trying to force his tongue deeper inside her.
Her fingers clawed at the carpet as she gurgled with
lust and sheer animal joy.
His tongue, stiffened like a tiny phallus, entered
her, lapping at her slit. The questing asp found her
clitoris. Lips nibbled the sensitive bud, tongue lapped
and once more Amber crested the wave of a totally
overpowering, mind-shattering orgasm.
As her vision cleared she saw him, kneeling be-
tween her thighs, his face glistening with the outpour-
ings of her quim. His tool, still straining upwards,
was as untiringly erect as ever. He reached down and
grasped her hips, drawing her towards him to meet
the thrust of his weapon, once again fixing himself in
her tight sheath.
Amber groaned lustfully as once again she felt firm
maleness slipping into her and felt the electric sensa-
tions of pleasure begin all over again. Simon's hands
slipped up her back, up to her shoulders, bringing her
upright until she straddled his thighs while his tool
was embedded firmly in her drooling sex.
His hips began a gentle rocking motion, imparting
subtle thrusting movements to the rod of flesh inside
her. Amber's exclamations of pleasure were a con-
tinuous note now as eddies of pleasure welled in her
belly and spread through her. Open mouthed, she
trailed wet lips over his chest, clasping him to her.
Their sweat-slicked bodies slipped easily against each
other, lubricated skin sliding lasciviously, the moist-
ure of their bodies mingling.
189

Simon's hands cupped her buttocks, helped her
raise herself over his throbbing phallus, held her there
before easing her back down on the slippery pole. His
subtle touch suggested motion, built a rhythm, as
Amber's lower body rose and fell to meet the tiny
thrusts of his cock.
Amber, shuddering under the impact of yet an-
other climax, felt him stiffen, felt him clasp her
sweat-soaked body to him. Simon rammed home and
came, rewarding Amber's efforts with an abundant
tribute of his thick, hot cream.
It was several minutes before they came to their
senses and the madness of their abandoned rut passed
from them. They lay panting, tumbled exhaustedly
together on the floor, limbs and genitals intertwined.
The room reeked of sex. The sour-sweet acridity of
sweat mingled with the rich musk of human sexuality
and the subtler odours of perfume hung in the air.
It was the insistent buzzing that broke the heavy,
sex-laden silence of the room, that reminded them of
Anita. The device was still firmly fixed in her sex, still
sending tremors of delight coursing through her. Ani-
ta, though, had long since fainted through the inten-
sity of the sensations that wracked her body. Her
head had slumped forward, her mouth fallen open to
drizzle a trail of saliva over the rich brown flesh of
her breast. Her body twitched occasionally as even in
her unconscious state she felt the throb of pleasure
rise from her loins.
Amber roused herself from the sated torpor and
retrieved the plug of rubber from Anita's sex, silenc-
ing the tiny motor as she dropped it back into her
bag. She and Simon released the unconscious girl,
rubbing at her wrists and ankles to restore the circula-
tion where the bonds had bitten deeply into her flesh.
190

Between them they half carried, half dragged her
into the bedroom and laid her, still naked, on the bed.
Soon, with the aid of wet towels and a little restora-
tive brandy she roused and sat up. Within a half hour
she was none the worse for her experience and in fact
confided that she had found the whole thing quite to
her taste!
Amber, taking charge, led Simon off to the bath-
room where, sharing the shower, they contrived to
clean each other up. This small respite was all that
was needed to enable Anita to fully restore her spirits.
Thus, when the couple emerged from the bathroom,
cleansed and refreshed, silk lounging robes and soft
slippers were ready and waiting, laid out in the bed-
room.
As Simon and Amber covered themselves and Am-
ber made use of the various cosmetics and perfumes
which Anita had also gathered together to further re-
pair her appearance, their erstwhile thrall slipped eas-
ily back into her role as servant. Champagne, chilled
to perfection, was brought in and the cork popped.
Introductions were made and the threesome settled
down to toast this newly consummated friendship.
191

11
Following their orgiastic romp, Amber found it easy
enough to ingratiate herself with Simon to such an
extent that they spent the rest of the day and the night
together. The next morning found her completely at
home in Simon's suite and settled next to him in his
bed. She easily commandeered the services of Anita
likewise, sending her off to find Luis and bring back
clothes and other necessaries from her bungalow.
Amber had felt confident enough that her looks
alone would be sufficient to ensnare her chosen prey.
She was doubly assured by her discovery that Simon
enjoyed his sex spiced with a heavy seasoning of
domination and humiliation. Since she now loved to
play the submissive role in the right circumstances it
seemed they were a perfect fit. So she congratulated
herself on having made sure that her fish was deeply
and securely hooked.
Now she needed time to play her fish. Time and
space to win Simon round to her way of thinking. To
make him her instrument. She smiled inwardly at the
felicitous irony that that image afforded. Simon,
while he enjoyed a superficial domination over her,
would really be subverted to her will.
Breakfast was nearly finished. Amber, on waking,
had found that she had developed a ravenous appe-
tite thanks to the energetic sex that had occupied
192

most of the previous day and night. After a brief rest
while finishing the champagne she and Simon had
fallen hungrily on each other again and had finished
by including Anita and Luis in a final frenzied bout
before collapsing into an exhausted sleep. She had fed
her appetite on bacon and eggs and now, almost re-
plete, had spread a piece of toast thickly with butter
and bitter orange marmalade. Relishing the feeling of
satisfied fullness she pushed back her chair and re-
marked, 'You know, I've been here nearly two weeks
and I've hardly looked around at all.'
Simon, a forkful of corned beef hash half-way to
his mouth, nodded and agreed.
'Mmm, yes, me too. I've hardly left the hotel
grounds myself. And when I have been out I can't say
I paid much attention to my surroundings.'
'It would be a pity to go back and not have smelled
the flowers, heard the wind in the trees or just plain
played tourist,' Amber pursued her theme.
She took a bite of her toast. Tasted the tangy
sweetness of the conserve on her tongue, held it there,
savouring it. She chewed reflectively, taking her time.
No need to rush things. Just let the idea hang in the
air. Let him take hold of it. A slender forefinger
brushed a crumb from the corner of her generous
mouth.
Simon cleaned his plate and put down his knife and
fork with a clatter. He reached for his cup and
glanced over at her.
'Maybe we could go off somewhere together. You
know, explore a little.'
Amber smiled, mainly to herself. Then, her grin of
triumph broadening, she nodded her agreement. She
had him!
'What a lovely idea. Perhaps we could take a car
193

and go off for a couple of days. That would be per-
fect,' and she reached over to squeeze his hand.
'But where could we go that would be . . .' Simon
was beginning to ask just as Anita came in with a
fresh pot of coffee.
Amber caught herself wondering just how Anita
always managed to appear just at the right moment.
It was almost as if she had been listening just outside
the door. Amber shrugged the thought away. It
seemed to have no bearing on her present plan.
'Thank you, Anita,' she began pleasantly. 'Simon
and I have just decided that it would be nice to go off
for a day or two and explore. Where would you rec-
ommend we went?'
Anita thought it over as she busied herself with the
coffee pot.
'You could go north from here - up beyond San
Francisco. There are some old mining towns up there,
ghost towns left behind from the gold-rush days, oh,
some two, three hundred years ago. The country up
there is quite rugged and impressive. Quiet too, hard-
ly a soul around.'
'Sounds quite perfect,' Amber enthused. 'And
could we find somewhere to stay up there?'
'No problem - it's all part of Fantasyworld, so
wherever you want to stay, just tell them you are
from this hotel. You'll find plenty of places, hotels,
mountain lodges, cabins, whatever you like.'
'Great,' Amber went on in a rush, drawing Simon
along in her wake. 'We'll take your advice. We'll need
a car. Can you fix it?'
Anita was grinning her 'Glad to be of service'
smile. 'Sure thing. No problem. I'll fix everything.
You could leave in about an hour, if you wanted to.'
Anita took care of everything as usual. Leaving
194

Amber and Simon to linger over last cups of coffee
and to get themselves ready to leave, she bustled off
to make the necessary arrangements. In less than an
hour a sleek, steel-blue convertible stood at the kerb-
side with its top down. Lunch and luggage were
packed securely in the boot. There was nothing for
the couple to do but get in and drive off.
Simon looked the car over with growing excite-
ment, albeit a little tinged with apprehension. He was
itching to take control of this powerful steel beast, to
feel the motor throb under his command, but he also
found the unfamiliarity of the experience quite daunt-
ing.
He slipped behind the wheel, relaxed into the soft
leather seat. The smells of leather and oil set his pulse
racing. The slim, leather-covered steering wheel came
easily to his hand. He reached down, finding the stick
shift and parking brake automatically, without look-
ing. He felt instantly at home, comforted and com-
fortable.
Amber swung her legs into the car and settled in
the passenger seat beside him, closing the door with
a satisfactory 'clunk'. Without thinking Simon
reached over and pressed the starter. The engine
roared into life. He enjoyed the powerful pulsing of
the photon drive as it idled for a few seconds before
he let in the clutch, engaged gear and they were off.
They pulled away from the hotel forecourt onto the
road. With every second Simon's confidence in-
creased. Naturally, the subliminal briefing he had re-
ceived on his first night at the resort had taught him
to drive expertly. He found himself changing through
the gears, accelerating the sports car along the
straights, using gears and brakes to negotiate bends.
It was exhilarating to be so in command, so expert in
195

his use of this machine. But in the back of his mind
lingered the strange, unnerving feeling that this could
not be happening. He knew he had never sat in such
a car before, much less driven one. Yet here he was,
speeding along the highway, the master of the mech-
anical beast. The feeling persisted for just a few miles
before Simon became completely lost in the novelty
and the excitement of the experience.
The wind was strong and refreshing on their faces,
whirling Amber's hair in a golden cascade about her
head. They relaxed into a companionable silence,
feeding on the new and unfamiliar sensations. Revel-
ling in the powerful throb of the motor, the swish of
rubber tyres on tarmac, the rush of the wind.
For a while they headed north on a two-lane high-
way that hugged the coast. On their right, low hills,
dusty brown and dull green, rolled to the horizon. On
their left, the ocean crashed on rocks a hundred feet
below, throwing up plumes of creamy white spray.
After some time the terrain began to look familiar
to Amber. She realised they were nearing Carmel and
remembered the afternoon she had spent there, ex-
ploring with Sal and Fern. It seemed that that after-
noon had been so long ago. So much had happened
since. She let her mind drift, day-dreaming, recalling
the events of that day and night. Mind pictures of Sal
and Fern and her, naked and entwined, were con-
jured in her thoughts. Her hand crept down and lay
over her skirts at the joining of her thighs.
They stopped briefly at a place called Half Moon
Bay. Leaning against the car's bonnet they shared a
soda and looked out over the sea, feeling the warm
sun on their faces in pleasant contrast to the whip-
ping wind on the road. They kissed lightly, affection-
196

ately, Amber moulding her softness to Simon's hard
frame. His hands dropped from their embrace to gen-
tly cup and hold the firm rondure of her behind.
Amber took over the driving after their short rest.
She piloted the car confidently with quiet panache.
Nevertheless Simon did not make a good passenger
and he squirmed uneasily in his seat now that he did
not have the immediate demands of controlling the
car to distract his attention.
The quiet two-lane road merged into a broader
highway with denser traffic. Simon's discomfort only
increased when they found themselves surrounded by
herds of metal beasts, each of them under the seem-
ingly fragile and imperfect control of its human
driver. He fought to control his feelings, closing his
eyes and taking deep breaths. Gradually he mastered
himself and directed his attention to the passing view,
away from the almost overwhelming feeling of
strangeness.
The road, a six-lane freeway by this time, looped
through the great city of San Francisco, rebuilt after
the earthquake that had flattened the mid-town sec-
tion in the early years of the twenty-first century. Am-
ber, driving calmly in the increasingly dense traffic,
took an exit marked 'Sacramento', following the road
over a double-decked bridge that swooped across the
San Francisco bay.
They passed towns that evoked well buried memo-
ries of novels and stories that Simon had read long
before. Sausalito, Oakland, Berkeley . . . Still the
broad black ribbon of the road rolled beneath their-
wheels, taking them north and east.
Past Sacramento the terrain began, at first subtly,
to change. They started to climb. In the distance low
hills began to rise, backed by higher, craggier scarps,
197

their tops obscured by a cap of low cloud. Amber
turned off the freeway onto a deserted two-lane road,
heading deeper into the foothills.
She slowed the car to an ambling pace. They drifted
through small towns, past huddles of no more than a
handful of houses of white-painted clapboard. After a
couple of miles in which they hadn't encountered any
further sign of human habitation, Amber noticed a
rutted track bearing away from the metalled road. A
battered signpost, faded paint on rotting wood, in-
dicated the direction of a place called 'Lennoxville'.
Amber slowed and pulled in to the side of the road. An
uncanny stillness, total silence, no sound of a bird, beast
or insect, descended on them as she stopped the engine.
That must be one of those ghost towns Anita men-
tioned. Let's go and take a look.'
Simon was glad of the chance to stretch his legs.
The journey had started to become over-long for his
taste and he was starting to feel quite cooped up.
Hand in hand they negotiated the rutted track, which
here and there had become quite overgrown. They
crested a rise and they were there, right in the middle
of all that was left of Lennoxville.
Amber was beginning to find the eery silence which
still clung about them a little irksome. Nothing stir-
red. There wasn't even a breeze to swing a creaking
sign or bang one of the rotting doors that hung half
off the disintegrating buildings.
Nervously, Amber began to chatter as she grasped
Simon's hand tightly in her own. The town now con-
sisted of just three or four wooden shacks that were
still standing. Here and there, piles of old timbers and
stones marked the resting places of other buildings
that had already collapsed and were now mouldering
to dust.
198

Simon led the way to the closest shack which an-
nounced itself as the 'General Store: Proprietor Wm
Briggs' on a faded board that hung by one corner
from the eaves. Together they peeped around the
open door; nothing but dust and sagebrush and the
remains of a long-dead fire in the middle of the floor.
Amber shuddered, unable to conceive of this lonely
place being full of bustle and of life.
The gurgling of water came to them on the still air,
cutting through the silence like a knife. Behind the
shack they found a stream. Along its meagre banks
were still traces of the miners' equipment, rusting
pans and wrecked sluice boxes. The water bubbled
past, crystal clear, transparent. Amber slipped off her
sandal and dipped in a toe. With a shocked cry she
pulled it out. The water, risen in mountain snows,
was freezing.
All of this was not quite to her taste. She was glad
she had Simon with her. She nestled against him, hug-
ging his arm.
'I think I've seen enough. Anyway, I'm ready for
some food. Maybe we could picnic up there. It seems
a more pleasant spot.'
Up there, where Amber pointed, away from the
scene of desolation, further up the rise, did seem more
attractive. A flat grassy meadow, sewn with wild
flowers, climbed to a small stand of trees beyond
which the woodland spread into a true forest.
Anita, in her efficient and obliging way, had packed
a basket of provisions. Simon and Amber walked
briskly back to retrieve it - oh no, she wasn't going
to wait there on her own! Then, skirting the remains
of Lennoxville, they climbed up to the distant
meadow.
Just at the edge of the tree-line, where there was
199

good, deep shade from the afternoon sun, they stop-
ped. They were out of sight of the derelict town now
and the world seemed a brighter and more cheerful
place. As if by magic, birdsong started up, the chirrup
of cicadas filled the air and Amber noticed the deep,
rhythmic soughing of the wind in the trees. Now, too,
she had her chance to smell the flowers as the wind
wafted the sweet scents to her nose.
Simon spread a blanket and Amber made herself
busy setting out the plentiful food and drink that
Anita had provided for their picnic. It was a simple
meal but delicious. Anita had furnished ham,
chicken, a ripe French Camembert and fresh, crusty
bread. There was ripely juicy fruit too; peaches and
oranges, still cool from the ice chest. Amber pulled
the cork from a bottle of fine, crisp Chablis and
poured for both of them.
For a while they ate in silence, satisfying their hun-
ger but also savouring the still amazing experience of
the complexity and subtlety of tastes and textures
that those simple foods could afford.
Amber leaned back against a tree, a wineglass held
loosely in her left hand, her mouth half filled with the
succulent flesh of a peach. A bead of juice dribbled
down her chin and she cuffed it away with a childlike
motion.
That is something I love about this place,' she
mumbled through the peach flesh, 'the food and
drink is so delicious. Even bread - plain bread -
tastes so good. I never thought eating could be such
pure pleasure.'
'You're right,' Simon agreed. 'Think of the soya
stuff we have back home. It's supposed to be flavour-
ed - you know, chicken, beef. It doesn't taste like this!'
and he held up the chicken leg he had been gnawing.
200

'Yes, I guess we are really going to miss it when we
have to go back.'
They were silent a while. Amber didn't press her
point. Just let the thoughts drop on the air, let him
pick them up, dwell on them. Let him persuade him-
self. That was her plan. No need to rush things, just
gentle him along.
Amber, glass still dangling from her fingers, sidled
round to sit beside him. She leaned over to kiss him
lightly, her lips still wine-wet. He put out his tongue,
tasted her lips, smiled. She sipped from her glass,
placed her mouth over his, transferred the wine to his
mouth. He swallowed the draft, kissed her again, lips
softly caressing hers.
'Time for dessert?' she murmured with a louche
grin.
They kissed again, deeper now, mouths open, her
tongue probing, sucking, arms embracing. Even be-
fore their mouths unglued he was busy with the but-
tons of her blouse. He pushed it from her shoulders,
freeing her bra-less breasts to his appreciative gaze
and the kiss of the warm breeze. Lightly she got to
her feet, fumbled with the buttons to loosen her skirt,
letting it drop unheeded to the grass. She drew the
filmy pants beneath down her smooth, golden-skin-
ned legs. For a split second she posed naked, standing
above him, then she was on her knees beside him,
helping him out of his clothes.
They rolled together in the fragrant grasses. Their
naked bodies melted together, her softness caressing
as their limbs entwined. He buried his face between
her breasts, inhaling the richness of odours there - the
sweetness of attar of roses in her perfume, the infinite-
ly more subtle and tantalising aroma of her sweet
flesh all mingled in a headily sensual cocktail.
201

His open mouth fixed over the crown of one full
breast, suckling nipple and satin-slick areola. Using
lips and teeth he nipped and nibbled at her savoury
flesh, trailing down her torso. His tongue tip delved
into the well of her navel, swirling in its depths before
slithering with delicious slowness over the taut flesh
of her lower abdomen even to the furry mound of her
pubis.
He paused to pay due homage at the gates of her
womanhood, his tongue rasping over her sex lips,
flicking deftly at the juicily exposed bud of her clit-
oris. Then his lips were floating over the silken
smoothness of her thighs.
Tiny tremors of joy fluttered within her as he
touched her anus. Amber reached out to take his pe-
nis in her hand, squeezing gently, working it to hard-
ness, feeling it spring to life under her fingers.
All the while his caresses were building the sexual
tension in her body towards the inevitable crescendo
of bliss. But that was a long way off. Still his hands
caressed her, tongue and lips and teeth stimulated her
sensitive flesh. With a deep sigh of pleasure Amber
lay back to revel in the sensations.
Gently turning her, he trailed his mouth over her
flank, pushed his face against the full roundness of her
bottom. He parted the cheeks, exposing the hidden
cleft. His tongue lapped in the secret valley, probed at
the puckered rosette of her anus. He tasted the earthy,
sour taste of her there, smelt a new richness of fleshy
odours. He felt her bottom wiggle, grinding it into his
face. His tongue burrowed at the tight bundle of muscle
cords, tasting the bitter tang of her hidden orifice.
'MmmP Amber sighed lustfully, squeezing his now
fully inflated cock. T want you to fuck me in the arse.
Put this lovely fat cock in my arse and fuck me!'
202

Positioning himself behind her as she crouched on
all fours, Simon dabbled his fingers in her quim to
gather the dew that welled there. He smeared himself
and her bumhole with the moisture to ease his pas-
sage before plugging the head of his erection into the
tight orifice. He edged forward, met a slight resis-
tance, then she opened herself to him, almost sucking
him into her until he was fully inside, his belly flat-
tened against her bottom.
He began to hump in the tightness of her rectum,
spurred on by the lewd commentary that spilled from
Amber's lips:
'Ooh, that's good - you're so big - so tight in my
arse. Ooh, yess! Fuck my arse - let me feel every inch
- ooh, aaah!'
Passing a hand down over her belly he found the
pouch that hid her clitoris. Skilfully he toyed with the
sensitive bud, expertly bringing Amber to orgasm. As
she came the spasms induced in her sphincter caused
her to clamp his tool, milking his manhood. He resisted
the urge to come himself, fighting to control himself.
Once again he manipulated her clitoris, making her
come quickly and noisily, wriggling her bum against
his belly while he remained buried in her fundament.
He let her recover, then yet again, for a third time, he
brought her to climax before, with a grunt of release
he allowed a flood of creamy spend to erupt from
him, filling her bowels brim-full.
They lay together, drowsing in the late afternoon
sun, Amber's head cradled against his chest, her fin-
gers loosely clasping Simon's resting manhood. Soon,
though, she stirred, bending her head over his groin,
using her mouth to revive his interest. Her efforts
were soon rewarded and the limp flesh responded,
blossoming once more to readiness.
203

Amber straddled her still recumbent lover, using
one hand to open herself, the other to guide his
tumescent flesh into her sex. Simon reached up, cup-
ping and palpating her rich tit flesh, pinching the
nipples, already swollen in her arousal. Automatically
he raised his hips, thrusting to meet and complement
Amber's own motions. Lightly placing her hands on
his chest she stopped him:
'Just relax now. Let me do it all for you.'
So saying she began to hump herself over his cock,
raising and lowering herself slowly over the rod of
flesh that impaled her, letting every delicious inch slip
up inside her right to the mouth of her womb, feeling
every ridge, every bump. She gyrated her hips, lit-
erally screwing him into her. Worked the muscles of
her abdomen to clasp his meaty weapon, trying to
milk the seed from him.
And as she worked she crooned in pleasure, 'Ooh,
aah. That's good. Sooo good! . . . Unghh, ooh!'
The tremors of her orgasm rippled through her.
She bit her lip, groaning in her throat and redoubled
her efforts. Riding up and down on the lusty probe
inside her until Simon yielded up a flood of jism while
his cock throbbed inside her.
She lay on him, temporarily exhausted, her breasts
flattened against his hard chest and kissed him on the
mouth. A slender index finger traced the line of his
jaw.
'Mmm, that was wonderful. So much more intense
than with a Reality Machine. I'll miss this when we
have to go back.'
No more than that. The thought hung in the air.
They dozed again, lulled by the chirping of cicadas
and the soft wind in the trees.
The chill at the onset of evening awakened them
204

from their slumber. Amber shivered and hugged her-
self, finding the bare flesh of her arms covered in
gooseflesh. Standing in the gathering gloom they pul-
led on their clothes. Simon retrieved the blanket from
the grass and wrapped it around Amber's shoulders.
Gratefully she huddled in its fleecy warmth, drawing
it tightly about her like a cloak.
'We had better find somewhere to stay for the
night,' Amber remarked with a nervous tremor in her
voice.
'Perhaps we could camp out in one of those old
shacks in the ghost town. Build a fire . ..'
Amber shuddered at the macabre suggestion. Then
she saw the grin on Simon's face and burst into
hearty laughter. She hugged him, kissing the smile
from his mouth.
With Simon's arm comfortingly about her waist,
drawing her into his warmth, they negotiated the
rough path that skirted the abandoned mining town
back to where the car still stood at the roadside.
Amber felt a new, unfamiliar feeling within herself.
A new warmth that glowed within her and seemed to
transcend even the blissful feeling of sexual satiety.
She felt herself relaxed and happy and secure just to
be there with Simon's arm about her, having his
strong maleness to support her. She knew then that a
special link had somehow formed between them -
that they had become friends.
Simon turned the car and they headed back down
the narrow road in the direction of the last signs of
human habitation they had seen. After a couple of
miles, just as twilight resolved into the pitch blackness
of night, they came to a cluster of three or four
wooden cabins set back from the road. A light was
already showing in the windows of the one nearest to
205

the road. A plume of smoke climbed skywards from
the stone chimney.
Simon's brisk knocking on the solid wooden door
brought out an old man, wizened and toothless, a
two-day stubble of grey whiskers covering his chin.
Yes, the other cabins were for rent. Yes, one of them
was free at the moment.
Amber and Simon followed the old man across the
yard to the cabin furthest from the road. Inside, it
was as if it had been freshly prepared in readiness for
them. Vases of fresh flowers stood on the mantelpiece
and in the middle of the heavy wooden dining table.
A fire had been laid in the wide hearth ready to be lit.
A pile of kindling stood ready to feed the flames. In
the bedroom the roomy double bed seemed to have
been newly made up and the covers drawn down in
readiness.
Simon followed Amber on a brief proprietorial
tour of inspection while the old man lounged in the
open doorway with his back to the thickening night.
A nod and a smile indicated her satisfaction - just
perfect, just as she would have wished it to be.
Simon left her busy in the kitchen that formed one
end of the cabin's main living area, boiling milk for
hot chocolate. He fetched the bags from the car and
with a politely brief 'Goodnight' dismissed the old
man and closed the cabin door, shutting out the
world.
He soon had a blaze going in the hearth and the
chill of the room was rapidly transformed to a com-
forting cosiness. Companionably the couple sat side
by side in the glowing firelight, sipping their warm
drinks, feeling very domesticated and at home.
206

11
That night they slept together, their limbs entwined
beneath the blankets. In the morning when the light
first came, Amber awoke. Simon's hand lightly cup-
ped her breast. She felt his penis, erect in sleep, nes-
tled in the cleft between the relaxed globes of her
buttocks.
She turned to him, kissed him awake. She smiled
and opened herself as he rolled onto her, fitting him-
self inside her. Their sleep-warmed bodies moulded
together, she becoriiing him, he becoming her. Am-
ber's fingertips trailed over his back, learning every
contour of his tensely muscled frame. She felt him
move inside her, seeming to grow within the tightly
clasping channel of her sex, filling her up. She was
overwhelmed by the sheer melting joy of holding him
inside her, feeling him close and a part of her. A small
tear of purest happiness trickled down her cheek.
Simon's mouth was on her breast. He suckled her
nipple, softly murmuring her name, his lips tickling
her skin. He came suddenly and without warning.
Amber felt him jerk and pulse inside her with a deli-
cious clarity. He slipped from her and they slept
again.
When Simon awoke later he was startled, at first,
to find himself alone. He imagined himself back in his
apartment beneath the dome, imagined that Amber
207

was just a Reality Machine image. His hand reached
out, feeling the warmth of the sheets beside him. He
heard the sounds of kitchen activity. The aroma of
freshly brewed coffee reached his nose. The sense of
loss he had felt so keenly left him instantly as he
realised that it was all still real and that Amber was
truly there, just a few feet away.
He swung himself from beneath the covers and pul-
led on a robe, fastening the sash tightly about his
waist. Barefoot, he padded from the bedroom, his
spirits bounding when he first caught sight of his
companion busy at the cooking range. The cabin
door was wide open and the clear, golden light of the
early morning sun streamed through. Motes of dust
danced in the almost tactile shafts of light.
'Hi, good morning, sleepy head,' Amber called,
pushing strands of honey-gold hair from her face.
'How would you like your eggs?'
Simon drew a chair up to the rough wooden table
that stood midway between the kitchen and the
lounge area. He helped himself to coffee and added
milk to the steaming mug. He watched Amber, her
generous curves swathed in an ivory silk robe, break
eggs into a pan.
He found himself thinking how agreeable it was to
wake up to such a charming companion. To hear the
noises of their activity, to hear their voice, to know
that one was not alone. He caught himself contrasting
the present with the many lonely awakenings there
had been in his life.
Amber brought the plates to the table. She fetched
a rack of toast, butter and preserves, and set them
down. She took her seat opposite him. Her smile en-
couraged him to eat the food she had prepared. He
fell to with a good appetite.
208

Amber broke the yolk of an egg with her knife-
blade, dabbled a shard of toast in the yellow liquid
and popped it in her mouth. She chewed thought-
fully, looking across at him. Here was her opportun-
ity, she thought. Her chance to build on the
foundation she had laid the day before. Then she had
pursued the objective with subtlety, merely planting
the seeds in his mind. Now was the time to work
more openly, but yet not blatantly.
A tiny knot of tension formed in the pit of her
stomach as she realised just how important this had
become for her. She was not simply aiming to secure
an ally as she had first planned - someone to use and
then maybe discard. Now she was after more ... a
friend to share with.
Airily she started in:
'Have you thought what we might do today?'
A pause, then, 'No, not really. Maybe we could
explore higher up, go into the forest . ..'
'Mm, yes, that sounds good. When we got here last
night I think I saw some stables. Maybe they have
horses. We could ride up into the foothills.'
Simon looked a bit doubtful. He pushed food
around his plate in silence.
'What's wrong? Haven't you ever imagined your-
self riding? Wouldn't you like to try it for real?'
Looking up at her, then: 'Yes, of course. I was just
wondering if I would know how.'
Amber grinned and reached out a comforting
hand.
'They seem to have thought of everything else. I'm
sure they'll have anticipated that we might want to go
horseback riding and have taken the right steps.'
For an instant Amber wondered just who 'they'
might be, then shrugged the idle thought away.
209

Simon brightened up considerably. Now that she men-
tioned it, he felt sure he would be able to ride. He
imagined himself in the saddle. That seemed to be settled.
Amber swallowed a mouthful of ham and took a
deep breath. Now for it.
'Don't you wish this could go on for always?'
Simon's expression betrayed incomprehension. He
knitted his brow, troubled by the question.
'What do you mean?'
'Just that. Have you ever caught yourself wishing
you could stay here - not have to go back. Have real
food all the time. Smell real smells, taste real tastes.
Have real sex,' and she grinned almost self-consciously.
Simon pondered this strange concept.
'No, not really. Anyway, it's not going to be poss-
ible - we have to go back when the time allotted by
the Network is up.'
'Yes, I know,' Amber persisted, 'but even so don't
you think it would be wonderful if we could stay?
Dream a little!'
Simon chewed. Amber could see, with relief, that
the vague possibility was just about taking hold in his
mind. He swallowed and said haltingly, as if thinking
aloud, 'I see what you mean. But if one could stay on
.. . just suppose . .. how could you live? This is a
holiday . . . but I suppose one would have to work.'
'Oh, easy enough.' Amber pounced. 'You're a Cre-
ator. This whole place works around fantasy - story-
telling if you like. You could make a good living.'
She was tempted to go on, to lay it all out for him,
tell him about Sal and Fern and all the other film
business contacts she had already made. She could
paint such an enticing picture of movie people
anxious to have her work for them and how Simon
could work for them too. She held back.
210

Gently now. Don't risk losing him by pushing too
hard. Just feed him enough to get and keep his inter-
est, then leave him to work things out for himself. Let
him persuade himself. Already his expression be-
trayed his mind at work, turning the tremendous pos-
sibilities over and over.
A brief silence ensued, then Simon spoke:
'Yes, it's a nice thought. But contrary to all we've
ever known. Obedience to the Network is how we all
survive. Obedience for the common good. We have to
go back and no repining.'
Intuitively Amber knew that she must not pursue
things now. Let it keep for the time being. She felt
herself trembling with the tension. She needed some-
thing to relax her - something cathartic. Simon too
would benefit from some exciting therapy. Pushing
back her chair, she stood, head bowed, and said very
quietly, 'You are right. Maybe I need to be reminded
of my duty of obedience. Perhaps I deserve some cor-
rection.'
Simon understood at once and led the way into the
bedroom. Amber pushed the door shut behind them.
The leather strap lay coiled like a sleeping snake on
top of the pine dresser that was the only other furni-
ture in the room apart from the bed. There was no
need for instruction. Amber picked it up, feeling the
supple coolness of the long, whippy strap, and
brought it to Simon. Head bowed, she offered it to
him, her lips forming a single unspoken word: 'Please.'
She loosened the robe and shrugged it from her,
letting the batiste garment pool at her feet. She stood
naked, posed with hands clasped behind her back as
Simon arranged pillows at the foot of the bed. At a
gesture she lowered herself over them, offering her
bare bottom to his mercy.
211

Her body tensed as she heard the swish of the
leather strap cutting the air behind her. She heard the
sharp slap of the leather on her flesh at the same time
as she felt the stinging impact, felt the tongue of
leather coil over her flanks. She threw back her head,
her fingers clawing the blankets and howled wolfishly
with shock and hurt.
A second blow cracked across the tender crease
where buttock plumpness meets tender upper thigh.
It was agony but it was also bliss. The longed-for fire
started in her smarting bottom, the fiery heat spread-
ing through her.
A flurry of blows followed. Amber gasped and
wriggled her bottom each time the weighty leather
strap slashed across her ripe behind. The pain drove
all thoughts from her mind, leaving behind a great
and refreshing clarity. She gave herself up to the hurt,
to the throbbing in her tender rear. Tears flooded her
eyes. Tears of anguish mingled with tears of blissful
release.
Simon's blood was pounding. Repeatedly he drew
back his arm and slashed the coiling leather strap
over the quivering flesh that writhed before him. With
each stroke he heard with satisfaction the abandoned
cries of his victim, saw another crimson stripe be-
smirch the once virginally creamy flesh.
Amber's shuddering nates were blushing ripely
when Simon let the strap fall to the floor. His penis
had attained the fullness of erection, peeping from the
folds of his robe, demanding to be satisfied. Amber,
glancing over her shoulder, surveyed the damage
done to her arse, saw Simon toss the robe from him
and support the rod of flesh on the palm of his hand.
She licked her lips in lustful anticipation, grinning
encouragement.
212

Simon entered her smoothly. Her quim, awash with
her juices, guzzled him in hungrily. He had barely
begun to move inside her before his climax exploded,
washing the walls of her clasping tunnel as he jerked
and throbbed inside her.
Amber had been right about the stable. When she
and Simon had recovered themselves they threw on
some clothes and tumbled out of the cabin, childishly
eager to make the most of the day and to get on with
their trip into the hills. In the daylight they saw that
they had stumbled upon what was, or at least had
been, a small mountain resort. A few cabins similar
to their own were clustered about a central courtyard.
Further off other buildings, including what was now
clearly a riding stable, were screened partially by a
stand of mountain pines.
The air was crisp and clean and dampness under-
foot showed that it had rained overnight. The sharp
resinous sweetness of the scent of wet pinewoods tick-
led their nostrils. As far as they could tell they were
the only occupants of the place. Apart from the old
man, of course.
He was easy to find. As soon as Simon and Amber
emerged from the cabin, there he was, bustling across
the courtyard. 'Good morning's and 'How are you's
wheezing wetly between toothless gums.
It seemed that he had anticipated their plans. Two
horses stood, already saddled and bridled and loosely
tethered at the far side of the courtyard, where a
well used trail off towards the blue-green of the lower
foothills. Now that she thought about it, Amber
was beginning to find this feature of Fantasyworld
quite irritating. Just once, she told herself, she would
like to have to ask for something. It was getting
213

so nothing was private. Like your mind was being
read.
Pushing these feelings aside, she picked one of the
horses, a sturdy and docile-looking grey, and swung
herself into the saddle. Despite being clad in thick
denim jeans the tingling in her bottom as she settled
in the saddle reminded her, not unpleasantly, of the
treatment her rear end had just received.
Simon approached the horse that was left, a bay
gelding, with just a tinge of nervousness. It was un-
necessary. As soon as he swung his leg across the
broad back he felt himself at ease. Expertly, auto-
matically summoning the right gestures and com-
mands, he coaxed the animal's head up from cropping
at the grass. With a slight pressure of knees and heels
he urged it to a walk, to follow in Amber's wake.
The path or bridle-way wound past the stable and
the other outbuildings, skirting the screen of trees be-
fore rising sharply to crest a small knoll which itself
was topped by a stand of pines. At the top the path
plunged steeply down the other side before bearing
away towards the distant sage-blue hills. It was not
long, therefore, before the riders were out of sight of
any sign of human habitation and were once more
completely alone. It was as if the landscape had
closed around them, enveloping them, drawing them
on, deeper into its wildness.
They ambled on over the flat grassland. Today the
air was alive with sound. Birds called to one another
while cicadas chirruped throatily. Soft breezes sighed
in the long grasses. The horses snorted and neighed
as though commenting on their slow progress.
At the edge of the meadowland they entered a
wood, starting a small flock of birds from the under-
growth. They rose into the air with a rustle of wing
214

feathers and sharp calls of alarm as the horses broke
through the bushes that had grown to obstruct the
path. The horses, alarmed in their turn, faltered and
held back, whinnying softly until urged forward by
their riders.
The heat of the day was at its height. Although dark,
the wood offered no relief or shade. Rather, the closely
woven foliage kept off any cooling breezes and trapped
the warmed and humid air within the green canopy.
Amber felt herself becoming uncomfortably hot in
the steamy atmosphere. With a mischievous glance in
Simon's direction she unbuttoned her plaid shirt and
took it off, folding it over the saddle pommel.
The sun, streaming through the branches overhead,
cast alternate bands of dappled light and shade over
her bare golden skin. Her full breasts swung easily
with the motion of her mount. Amber experienced a
surge of exhilaration as she felt Simon's eyes on her,
devouring the sight of her succulent naked flesh. Oh
gosh, how she loved showing herself off, loved know-
ing how she made men feel.
The motion of riding was having a predictable
effect on her. What with the delicious tingling in her
bottom and the swaying of the beast's flanks between
her thighs, she was feeling distinctly randy. She
turned in the saddle to flaunt herself wantonly for
Simon's - and her own - delight.
With a crash and a cracking of broken branches
and trampled foliage the horses broke through into a
clearing to leave the oppressive heat of the forest be-
hind. One of the many mountain streams that veined
the country gurgled through the glade, promising
cooling relief.
Amber slid from the saddle and knelt by the
stream. She soaked a cloth in the clear, icy-cold water
215

and touched it to her face, gratefully feeling the cool-
ness. Droplets trickled over her cheeks, over chin and
throat, down to the valley between her breasts.
Simon dismounted and joined her, kneeling by the
water. Amber dipped the cloth into the stream again
and offered it to him. He took it and wiped the sweat
from his face. Automatically he reached out and cup-
ped her breast, palpating the soft, elastic flesh.
'Let's fuck,' she whispered softly, urgently.
Simon fumbled with the button at her waistband.
He dragged the heavy denim jeans and the filmy pants
beneath down below her knees with one rapid motion.
Amber hastily performed the same office for him then
turned, kneeling, offering her naked sex to him.
Their coupling was an unrefined animal rut. The
energetic satisfying of mutual lusts.
Amber squealed through clenched teeth when she
came as soon as Simon's male hardness glided into
her welcoming cunt. She came again as he humped in
her, his strong hands kneading her breast flesh while
he levered himself against her. She was still gurgling
with a final spasm of release when he unleashed a
stream of semen inside her, grunting with the pleasure
of his own climax.
Shortly, their spirits revived by food, drink and a
brief rest in the cooling shade of the clearing, they
remounted and continued on their way. The wood-
land soon gave way to a sort of upland meadow. The
horses surged through deep, lush grass while on either
side loomed the foothills of the distant mountain
range.
Eventually, still following the original trail, the
couple found themselves closely hemmed about by
those same foothills and the wide open grassland
diminished to a strip no more than fifty feet wide.
216

Imperceptibly they had been drawn into the throat of
a canyon that seemed, at first view, to end in a blank
cliff face.
All around them sheer walls of rock towered to the
sky. The birdsong that had accompanied them thus
far was stilled. Only the occasional harsh call of a bird
of prey, nesting high up on the cliff face, broke the
silence. The horses, still plodding stolidly forward,
stumbled once or twice on the loose shingle that for-
med the floor of the canyon. The sound of metal-shod
hooves on the rough ground grated in the still air.
The trail at first seemed to disappear, then, as they
neared what seemed to be a dead end of vertical rock,
Amber and Simon saw that the path merely made a
sharp turn to the right. Rounding this bend they saw,
with relief, that the canyon opened out once again
not more than a hundred yards ahead.
They urged their mounts onward, anxious to be
quit of the oppressive atmosphere, and in a few
minutes had emerged from the mouth of the canyon.
They came to a halt in yet another lushly grassed
meadow, shocked and amazed by what now con-
fronted them. Silently they exchanged uncom-
prehending glances.
Directly in front of them, not twenty paces distant
and stretching in either direction as far as they could
see, stood a tall fence of closely meshed wire. At regu-
lar intervals the wire was supported and held taut by
lofty concrete pylons. The top of this wall of wire, at
least three times the height of a man, was further em-
bellished by coils of barbed wire, the vicious spikes
glinting in the sun. Clearly visible just in front of the
fence, a sign, lettered in red and bearing a grinning
death's-head symbol, warned: 'Danger - KEEP OFF
- Danger'.
217

Amber and Simon lingered, dumbfounded, just
looking at this monstrous structure that eloquently
witnessed the hand of man active in the wilderness.
The silence was total, more ominous even than the
silence they had known in the abandoned town of
Lennoxville. Nothing seemed to be stirring, nothing
seemed alive in the dead and forsaken strip of ground
in front of the wire.
Amber's horse broke the eerily concrete silence that
seemed to have clung about them like a thick, mes-
meric fog. It snorted and whinnied in alarm as it saw
a movement disturb the long grass over by the fence.
Suddenly a rabbit in headlong flight from some un-
seen pursuer broke cover, bursting from the under-
growth onto the mown strip of grass just in front of
the fence. Blinded by panic, in desperate need to es-
cape, the bundle of fur rocketed across the cleared
space and collided with the mesh of wires. There was
a blue flash followed by a yellow arc of flame which
still linked the rabbit to the fence as the animal was
tossed in the air. It thudded back to earth just short
of the tangled undergrowth from which it had
emerged. It twitched once, twice, in a death spasm,
then lay lifeless and still.
The acrid scent of charred flesh and singed fur was
carried to them on the breeze. Amber turned away,
horrified, covering her eyes. Simon, his gaze still fixed
on the motionless ball of fur, edged his horse along-
side and placed a comforting arm around her, draw-
ing her into his warmth.
They stayed like that for a little, each in their own
way trying to make sense of the tiny drama they had
witnessed. Then without words, in silent accord, they
turned their horses and began to retrace their steps
back into the canyon.
218

They rode in silence, each lost in their own
thoughts. Amber very quickly recovered her compo-
sure after the initial shock. For her part, her thoughts
centred on how she could best retrieve the mood of
their outing and somehow divert her companion from
the dark thoughts which were evidenced by his down-
cast and gloomy expression. To let him dwell over-
much on such a sombre incident, she reasoned, could
only undo the good effect she had already had in
turning his thoughts to staying in this land of real and
easy pleasures. She must find some pleasant way of
raising their spirits and quickly.
The solution to Amber's problem came promptly,
as though on cue, and literally out of a clear blue sky.
They had ridden back through the gloomy canyon,
still oppressively silent in the late afternoon heat.
They had reached the open grassland and were just
skirting a small clump of trees when something wet
splashed against Amber's cheek. By a reflex she
looked up and saw that while they had been en-
grossed in their own thoughts a flotilla of puff-ball
clouds had gathered unnoticed overhead. Ahead and
all around, the sky was clear and deep blue, only just
above their heads had the fluffy, innocuous-seeming
clouds chosen to gather.
As she gazed upwards more drops fell on her face.
Presently the few drops had developed into quite a
heavy shower, wetting her shirt to make it cling stick-
ily to her skin. They reined in their horses and took
shelter under the overhanging branches of the nearby
trees. Still in the saddle, Simon and Amber sat side by
side watching the steady downpour.
The sun still shone brilliantly, making the rain-
drops glisten like exotic gemstones. The well wetted
grass, almost beaten flat by the force of the rain, was
219

a glistening, deep emerald carpet. On the instant Am-
ber had an inspiration. With a playful grin she turned
to Simon.
'Have you ever dreamed of doing it in the rain?
You know, strip naked and fuck in a rainstorm, feel-
ing the delicious, cool water cascading over you?'
Even as she spoke she slid from the saddle and had
shucked off her soaking wet clothes before Simon
could muster a response.
'Come on,' she threw over her shoulder as she trot-
ted, baby naked, out into the rain.
Simon stayed a moment watching the enticing jig-
gling of her buttocks and the play of thigh and calf
muscles as she ran. With arms outstretched she pir-
ouetted under the downpour. Water cascaded over
her proudly taut bosom, her hair matted to her scalp.
She gurgled with uninhibited, childlike pleasure as the
warm softness of the rain bathed her.
Simon slid to the ground, tearing off his clothes as
he went and trotted to join her in this giant, open-air
shower bath. He drew her to him, his body sliding
wetly against her as the contours melted together,
trapping his penis, already firmly erect, between their
straining bellies. Kissing, sucking, lapping sweet water
from succulent flesh, they drew each other to the
ground. They rolled together on the fragrant, soaking
wet grass, their limbs coiling together. Simon was in-
side her, her legs twined about him, pulling him deeper
into her. Again their rut was frenzied, animalistic, as
they urged each other to a panting, squealing climax.
After, they lay together as the brief but intense
shower finally petered out, spreading their limbs to be
dried by the late afternoon sun while overhead a rain-
bow arched across the sky.
220

11
To Amber it felt like Heaven.
After the rainstorm she and Simon had lain in the
last warming glow of the setting sun, drying them-
selves like butterflies newly emerged from the chrysa-
lis. Wearily they had resumed their damp clothes and
remounted to cover the last stage of the journey back
to their cabin. It was early evening and the sun had
just slipped beneath the horizon when they finally
reached their journey's end. Tired and bedraggled
they had slipped from the saddle and handed their
mounts back into the keeping of the old man who still
seemed to be the only other inhabitant of the place.
In the twilight gloom there was just enough light
for them to take stock of the sturdy wooden buildings
that stood a little apart from the cluster of cabins.
They followed behind the stooped form as the old-
timer led the horses back to the stable and busied
himself with unsaddling them and ranging the leather
tack about the place. The shed next door to the stable
seemed to be some sort of store. Amber tried the
door. It was locked shut.
Tentatively she tried the door of the log-built
single-storey cabin that lay a little further over to-
wards the living accommodation. It opened easily at
her touch. She stuck her head into the darkness and
groped for a light switch. Electric lamps high in the
221

roof came on, flooding the interior with hard white
light. Amber let out a whoop of joy.
They had happened on a bath house. Looking
around Amber's delighted gaze had fallen on a sauna
cabin, showers, massage tables and, best of all, plumb
in the centre of the floor a vast redwood hot tub with
room enough for ten or more bathers.
Amber was stiff and saddle-sore. Nothing could
have been more welcome to her than to relax in a hot
bath, letting the soapy water draw the tiredness from
her limbs, letting it soothe the weariness away. Unex-
pectedly, here was the very finest and most luxurious
bath house she could have imagined, just waiting to
be used. Excitedly she examined the hot tub, ran over
to the sauna cabin, tried the shower taps. Everything,
it appeared, was in perfect working order.
The old man was fetched, dragged, protesting mild-
ly, from tending to the horses. Amber was bubbling
with good humour at the prospect of a sauna fol-
lowed by a good relaxing soak. There was no alter-
native for the old man but to accede to her urgent
and forcefully expressed wishes and to fire up and
stoke the boiler that heated all the water she could
possibly want.
For a blissful hour, Simon and Amber lounged in
the steamy heat of the sauna, feeling themselves re-
newed as the humid warmth drew the tiredness from
their limbs. Then, showered and refreshed, they both
mounted the wooden steps that led up the side of the
great redwood vat and plunged into the pine-scented
heat of the hot tub.
They sat side by side, the hot fragrant water lap-
ping at chest height. Amber, relaxed and quite lit-
erally in her element began to ponder once again how
she might continue her subtly persuasive campaign,
222

when unexpectedly Simon broke the companionable
silence.
'Do you really think I could make a living here?'
She had not been expecting this, had not supposed
that her hints and suggestions would have taken such
a firm hold so early. Amber gulped, almost hearing
the pitch of her heartbeat intensify. She must have
been looking at him blankly for Simon felt moved to
rephrase his question:
'I mean, do you think I could .. . well . .. disobey?
Not return when I'm supposed to? Stay on here and
.. . well . .. live here?'
Amber regained her composure. She smiled bright-
ly as her mind raced, figuring the best way to answer.
He was almost there, almost hers. This could settle it
- now, tonight. Slowly, musingly, she answered.
'That's a big question. Are you sure you want an
answer? It would be. a commitment. Are you ready to
make a commitment that could change your life rad-
ically?'
She held her breath. Had she gone too far? His
answer seemed to be an eternity in coming. She could
almost see the thoughts shaping in his mind. When he
answered he spoke quietly but with a firm deliberation:
'Yes. That's the point. I want to change my life.'
'Well, let's talk about the practicalities first.'
Amber relaxed, the tension draining from her. He
was still on the hook. Her smile was half relief, half
good humour. She handed him a bar of soap and
turned away to present him with her bare, wet back.
'Hmm, you can do my back while I explain.'
Assiduously Simon worked the soap into a lather
and spread it over her back and shoulders, gently
massaging her while he listened. Amber growled with
pleasure and continued:
223

'Mmm, that's good. As I've said, this whole place
runs on fantasy. Creators make fantasy. You're a
Creator. You should find plenty to do here - and get
well paid for it. You believe in your talent, don't
you?'
Simon agreed that, on the whole, he believed he
was talented - more talented than his Network mas-
ters seemed to recognise.
'More to the point, while I've been here I've met a
few influential people in the movie business. Some of
them seem keen enough to help me get started. I
could get them to help you too. Sound good?'
She bobbed her shoulders under the water, washing
the creamy film from her skin. She sat back, searching
his face for a reaction. Simon nodded thoughtfully,
agreeing that it all sounded good.
'Better yet, we could go into partnership - have our
own productions. Our own studio even.'
'You mean you'd consider staying too?' Simon
blurted in disbelief.
Amber smiled and nodded.
'Yes, of course. I've been thinking about it for a
while. Truthfully, I've been hoping I might persuade
you to stay. It would certainly be easier with a friend
- a special friend - to rely on.' And she reached out
to take his hand.
'So it looks like we've both come to the same deci-
sion ... er . .. independently.'
'And what has been decided will suit us both,' Am-
ber declared and kissed him lightly on the mouth.
'I suppose you've already thought through how we
could get into the film business?'
'Not quite,' Amber began slowly, still wishing to
draw him on. 'Now we are decided, I could use some
thoughts from you. But I think we can count on get-
224

ting plenty of practical help from a couple of particu-
lar friends.' And she went on to expound at length on
Fern and Sal and how they figured in her plans.
'It's settled then,' Simon put in when Amber had
finished. 'We just need to find somewhere to live.
Then we don't turn up for the flight back and con-
centrate on getting on with our new lives in the way
we choose.'
Amber shook her head, laughing softly, ruefully.
When she spoke her voice conveyed her underlying
incredulity in spite of her lightly chafing manner.
'How can you be so naive? I'm afraid it's not going
to be that simple.'
Simon's face darkened and his look posed an un-
spoken question.
'You saw that electrified fence today. You were
there too and saw what happened to the rabbit,' she
began calmly, flatly. 'Seeing that fence today simply
confirmed what I've suspected for a while now. We've
been prisoners all along. We just haven't realised it
because the bars have been too carefully hidden.'
'That can't be,' Simon began to protest. 'I know in
the early days the Network had to enforce obedience.
But then there were people who needed to be discip-
lined, educated to think in terms of what was good
for everybody over their own selfish needs. I've read
the histories and heard the tales of compulsory exile
to re-education camps and of the social police forces.
But that was a long time ago. People have changed -
they've learned right-thinking and obedience. The
Network doesn't need to enforce its rule now.'
Amber was shaking her head again.
'Uh uh. All that has happened is that the methods
of enforcement have become more subtle and better
hidden.'
225

'So the electric fence was just a relic of the past?'
'Maybe. But it seemed to have been well main-
tained - no rust and the warning sign had been fresh-
ly painted.'
'So?'
'So the Network still has people who take care of
security, who make sure all the mechanisms are still
in place.'
They were silent for a while, then Amber picked up
the theme again.
'Back at home it must be pretty easy for the Network
to keep control now. Nearly everybody spends most of
their time hooked up to a Reality Machine being
spoon-fed with ideas and sensations that people like you
and me create for them. There's no need for the police-
men and spies to be that obvious, but I'll bet they are
about. Who knows, maybe our supervisors, Carole and
your man - What's his name? Leo? - maybe they are
really our guards, there to enforce conformity, docility.'
'Yes, maybe. But we are going to escape from all
of that. The Network has no influence here. It has no
agents,' Simon broke in.
'How do you know?'
'Because Anita told me. She was quite emphatic
about...' His voice trailed off as realisation dawned.
Amber's grin was almost patronising.
'That's my point. I believe Anita, Luis, even that
old man who's probably listening outside the door
right now, they are all our guards. Besides, the whole
place must be monitored closely by some sort of sur-
veillance computer system. How else could they ar-
range all the "accidental" meetings and so on that let
us play out our fantasies?'
'So if we are being so closely watched won't they
already know what we are planning?'
226

^6 Yes, quite possibly. That is just a chance we'll have
to take. I did ask you if you were ready to make a
serious commitment. You're not thinking of backing
out, are you?'
It was Simon's turn to shake his head.
'No. I don't know what the risks might be but a
chance to change my life must be worth some risk.
You seem to have thought this through quite careful-
ly. How do you think we can arrange to stay here
without inviting some sort of reprisal from the Net-
work?'
'I'm afraid I don't really know. But I suspect your
friend Anita could give us all the answers.'
'That's possible,' Simon began doubtfully, 'but
how do we get her to tell us what we want to know?
If she is some sort of secret police agent set to enforce
our obedience she's not likely to volunteer any infor-
mation.'
'We'll just have to beat it out of her,' Amber rep-
lied decisively, letting a playful smirk develop on her
lips.
'But she positively enjoys being beaten. You've
seen the way she gets when I've punished her.'
'Then it will prove an enjoyable experience for both
of you. For all three of us, come to that.' And the
smirk spread into a broad grin of enjoyment. Amber
was obviously already relishing the prospect.
Seeing that Simon was failing to appreciate the
humour of the situation, Amber adopted a more seri-
ous look and continued, 'I just have this intuitive feel-
ing about her. We only need to push her just a little
beyond the bounds of her endurance and then she'll
open up to us. Once she realises that we're serious
and not indulging in a sexy game she'll give in easily.'
As they talked Amber's hand had strayed to Simon's
227

groin. Beneath the soapy waters she nursed the thick
and meaty rod of his phallus, squeezing gently and
releasing it as she felt it grow under her touch. They
had talked enough for now, she thought. She had got
what she wanted and she was anxious to seal the bar-
gain.
Talking about beating Anita, seeing the mind im-
ages of the girl's sweetly rounded brown flesh recoil-
ing under the lash, had made Amber quite randy.
With satisfaction she felt Simon's weapon stiffen and
swell even more under her caressing touch at the men-
tion of what they might do to poor Anita. It seemed
that they were both more than ready.
Taking his hand again, with a whispered 'Come
on', Amber urged him to come with her and stepped
out of the hot tub.
In one corner of the bath house were arranged a
cluster of towel-covered couches for bathers to rest
on after indulging in the steam baths that stood close
by. Hand in hand, the pair of them still dripping wet,
Amber led her companion to the nearest couch. Per-
fectly attuned, there was no need for words or ges-
tures.
Simon stretched out on his back, his penis, randily
tumescent, flopped back against his belly, the tip
straining to his navel. Amber's soft, heavy brfeasts
spread damply on his chest as she lay full length upon
him. Her tongue touched his lips, probed between un-
til they were mutually tongue sucking, wetly open-
mouthed. She slithered down his body, her damp
smoothness caressing him, her lips finding the ves-
tigial buds of his nipples. Her tongue circled the sen-
sitive areolae, teeth gently nipped at the spare flesh of
his chest.
Turning, Amber straddled his torso and edged
228

backwards until her womanhood, lips redly agape,
hovered above his face. She took his erection in one
hand, raising it to point ceilingwards. Her mouth
opened as she lowered her head and slowly engulfed
the full length of his twitching manhood between her
lips.
Sinuously her tongue coiled about his penis. Her
teeth gently grazed the sensitive flesh, raking along its
length as she bobbed her head up and down, almost
releasing her prey before swallowing him again.
His head propped on a pillow between Amber's
thighs, Simon was enveloped in the richly basic smell
of her arousal. He closed his eyes, savouring the elec-
tric sensations conjured by her busy tongue that
climbed from his loins and sent shivers along his
spine. He reached up to finger her sex, working his
hand between the puffy, well lubricated lips to dabble
in her moist cavern.
Soon he was frigging four fingers in and out of her
quim, the juices slurping glutinously while he paddled
his hand inside her vulva. Amber in response redoub-
led her efforts in time to his frotting of her sex, while
his organ, well lubricated and shining slickly with her
saliva, glided easily between her lips.
With a subtle pressure on her thigh, Simon
motioned her to lower herself to bring her pouting
sex-lips within reach of his mouth. Tiny beads of
silver-clear mucus bubbled from her lower lips. Sim-
on lapped the bitter-sweet muskiness from her, rolling
the oily droplets around his tongue like the finest,
rarest wine.
Then he was inside her. His tongue parted her
sex-lips to probe within. His lips fixed against her
quim, sucking more and more of her viscous, earthy
spending into his mouth. Amber groaned huskily,
229

momentarily releasing his member in her own ecstasy
before resuming her obsessive sucking on his tool.
They toppled over, still locked in a glorious soi-
xante-neuf. Simon's mouth and tongue paid due
homage to Amber's quim, lapping and nibbling the
livid gash, peeling back the hood of her clitoris to
send thrills to delight her, while she jammed the swol-
len head of his cock into her throat.
Simon felt slender fingers part his buttocks, felt a
fingernail lightly drawn over the crinkled aperture of
his anus. He relaxed the muscles, welcoming the in-
trusion as Amber's index finger slipped inside, em-
bedded up to the second knuckle joint. He felt the
intruder wriggle inside him. Felt her begin to frig his
arse with a deep screwing motion, timing her strokes
to her insistent and tireless sucking on his penis which
was still lodged firmly in her jaw.
He felt the palm of her other hand cup and knead
the firm flesh of his buttocks. Her finger-nails, talon-
like, raked the skin and dug into muscle as his tongue
sent an especially acute thrill through her pussy. He
shuddered pleasurably and jammed his cock yet fur-
ther into Amber's accommodating throat.
Simon in his turn parted the ripe bum cheeks that
flexed just above his head. He ran his finger up and
down the cleft, spreading the moisture that leaked
from Amber's frothing quim. He found the tightly
puckered portal of her anus and thrust his finger in-
side, feeling the deliciously tight muscles clasp him
lovingly.
So they lay entwined, sucking and frigging each
other to a mutual climax. At last, Simon felt the tell-
tale tightening in his balls and unleashed a stream of
jism into Amber's willing mouth. Seconds later Am-
ber shuddered, releasing the wilting flesh from be-
230

tween her sperm-drooling lips and screamed a deep-
throated howl of release.
The fatigues of the day, the nervous excitement
that their experiences had aroused in them and the
torpor of sated lusts overwhelmed them at last. They
lay where they had fallen in a panting, exhausted
heap of sweat-slicked flesh. They dozed fitfully until,
finally, Amber dragged herself under the shower to
wash away the stains of their coupling.
Simon soon followed. Cleansed once more, the two
of them, drawing robes about their still damp bodies,
crept across the compound to their cabin. They were
both too tired and full of thoughts of their planned
rebellion to bother to notice if they were observed.
Before the roaring log fire that kept the chill of the
night air at bay they towelled each other dry. Then,
naked, they crawled beneath the blankets and fell into
an exhausted sleep from which any concern over the
consequences of the actions they now proposed was
totally banished.
231

11
Simon stirred restlessly under the covers. While he
slept, fear and misgiving had crept over him. Half
awake in the darkness, a feeling that some terrible
and unknown danger was close at hand lay in the pit
of his stomach, cold and leaden. Surely, the thought
throbbed in his brain again and again, surely the Net-
work was already preparing some awful retribution
for his contemplated act of disobedience.
Not even the presence of Amber's calmly sleeping
form and her soft nakedness warm against him could
comfort him. The fear nagged at him as he tossed and
turned.
Out of the darkness a soft rustling as of some night
prowling animal came to him. He strained to hear,
holding his breath. The sound came again, from just
on the other side of the door.
Suddenly it burst open with a crash, slamming
right back on its hinges against the wall. Booted feet
thudded towards him. With a searing flash the light
came on, blinding him as he threw up his forearm in
a vain attempt to protect his eyes.
Sightless, he felt rough hands grab his arms and
drag him to his feet, felt the blankets yanked from
him to leave him naked. Slowly his vision cleared and
he saw that it was Anita and Luis who held him pin-
ioned between them. Across the room, Amber too
232

had been dragged to her feet and was held between
two uniformed men while the old, toothless man, like-
wise transformed into a black-shirted policeman, sur-
veyed the scene from the doorway, a malicious grin
of triumph on his sallow, unshaven face.
With a jerk he was awake. A clammy film of sweat
covered his body. He shivered in the dawn chill. Am-
ber was looking down at him.
'Bad dream?'
Yes, that was all it had been. But the fear and the
threat were real enough. Simon felt them gnawing at
him still.
He sat up in bed, drawing the rumpled covers up
over his chest. His head had begun to clear as the
grey light of the dawn chased the last ghosts of the
nightmare from his brain.
'Worried about what the Network might do to us?'
Simon nodded, a little shamefaced.
'Me too.' Amber smiled comfortingly. 'I've been
thinking how the Network might react. And how we
might avoid those consequences.'
Simon found his tongue.
'If you're right about this place, the Network must
already know what we plan.'
'Oh yes. I'm sure of that. I've wondered why there's
been no reaction already. But there doesn't seem to
be much point in dwelling on that. Better to make use
of the freedom we still have and act quickly before we
can be stopped!'
'But what can we do?'
'I've got a few ideas. The first thing is to get to
Anita and get the truth about this place out of her.'
Amber's decisive attitude put renewed heart into
Simon. He brushed away the last vestiges of his fears
and following her example he reached for his clothes.
233

Outside the cabin there was no sign of the old man.
The whole place seemed deserted and unnervingly
silent. Hand in hand they walked briskly to the car.
The engine burst into life, Amber grounded the accel-
erator and with a squeal of rubber they were off.
After a few miles the narrow country road crossed
a four-lane highway which was signposted to the
coast in the general area of their resort town. Amber
swung the car onto the well-metalled road, making
the engine growl throatily as she urged it up to its top
speed.
As she drove she explained her plans for Anita:
\ .. so we'll need somewhere discreet. I wouldn't
want to tackle her at the hotel. There'll be too many
people around if she decides to call for help,' she con-
cluded.
Straight away Simon thought of the Hellfire Club
and remembered the key that Dr Julius had pressed
on him. He rummaged in his pocket and drew out the
anonymous rectangle of white plastic from where it
had lain forgotten until then.
'Sounds just the place,' Amber agreed when Simon
explained. There probably won't be any people
about during the day. And if there are, they'll just
think we are having fun like them. We'll fit right in.'
After a few more miles they stopped at a roadside
cafe. Amber left Simon to linger over a final cup of
black coffee whilst she went to telephone Anita.
When she emerged from the telephone booth a few
minutes later she was cool and calm but an unmistak-
able glint of elation lit up her eyes.
'It's all fixed,' she announced as she walked across
to where Simon sat at the lunch counter. 'I told her
we were planning a little "welcome back party" and
she was delighted to drop everything and join us. It's
234

just an intuition but it seemed to me like she didn't
suspect a thing.'
Amber drove furiously so the afternoon was not very
far advanced when they drew up in front of the plain
door set in the featureless cliff wall. Simon inserted
the key in the slot beneath the brass plaque and
silently the heavy door swung open. Together they
plunged into the network of passages that led, at last,
to the great cavern with its raised stage where Simon
had first been welcomed by his host and mentor, Dr
Julius.
The vast chamber was dark and almost deserted
now. At a table in the shadows a figure stirred.
High heels click-clacked over the wooden floor, the
sound echoing crisply in the silence. Anita, her
breasts obviously bra-less and undulating under a
tight cotton tee-shirt, came towards them, smiling
broadly.
Affectionate hugs and kisses of greeting were ex-
changed. Casually Amber slung an arm round the
other girl's waist and together they fell in step behind
Simon as he led the way to Dr Julius's sanctum. The
door stood ajar as though the chamber had been pre-
pared for their convenience.
Inside, Amber prowled about eagerly, opening
closets and chests. She nodded her approval as she
examined the collection of instruments of correction
that she found stored in a tall armoire in one corner.
The contents of a second such cupboard drew a whis-
pered 'Excellent!' from her. Then she turned her at-
tention to Dr Julius's contrivance, his mechanical
punishment frame. She ran her hands lovingly over
the brightly polished metal framework. She fingered
the controls, examining them minutely. Again she
235

delivered herself of a gesture of whole-hearted approval,
her eyes glinting at the prospect of the sport to come.
Satisfied with her inspection, she turned casually to
her victim who had stood awaiting instructions, gues-
sing her role perfectly, and ordered flatly, 'Take off
your clothes.'
Anita obeyed instantly, tugging the tight vest over her
head, letting it drop to the floor, shucking tight denim
jeans down her slim, brown legs, until she was naked.
At a gesture from Amber, Simon led the unsuspect-
ing girl to the punishment frame and fixed her in it,
strapping wrists and ankles to the bright steel bars. A
touch of a button, a soft, mechanical whirring and
Anita was jerked off of her feet and held suspended,
postured to receive chastisement, the soft half-moons
of her buttocks thrust out invitingly, the heavy brown
gourds of her breasts swaying beneath her torso.
Amber stood in front of her, fixing her with an
imperious stare and spoke evenly, with just a hint of
menace in her voice:
'My dear Anita, I have rather an unpleasant sur-
prise for you. We are not here to play some enjoyable
sex game. We are more in earnest. There are some
things we need to know. You can tell us these things
- either now or after we beat them out of you.'
For the first time and then only for the merest in-
stant, Anita's eyes showed fear. She smiled dis-
armingly and shook her head.
'Things? What things? I'm just a resort hostess.
What things could I know?'
'Uh uh.' Amber in her turn was shaking her head.
'You work for the Network. You're a spy or police
or a guard. And you're going to tell us how we can
get into the main Network control room, how we can
access the Network.'
236

Anita's look was defiant now, her grin tight, eyes
narrowed. Her voice was quiet and firm:
'You're quite wrong.'
Amber simply shrugged her shoulders and walked
purposefully to the tall oak armoire. She selected a
black leather tawse and held it up so that Anita could
see it clearly.
'This will do to warm you up. You will probably
quite enjoy it:'
She turned to the cupboard again and took out a
thin whippy cane. She made a few experimental
passes with it, swishing the tip through the air.
'But this may just persuade you to talk to me.'
Amber took up her position behind her helpless
victim and the crisp crack of leather on trembling
flesh began. Certainly Anita squealed with shocked
pain as the tawse punished her jiggling buttocks, but
from the first there existed a pleasured subtext as each
squeal subsided into a low growl of perverse enjoy-
ment.
The well-fleshed hemispheres soon blushed most
satisfactorily and Amber tossed aside the heavy
leather strap in favour of the cane.
The first stroke connected squarely across both of
the mahogany ovoids, jerking the victim rigid and
drawing a long, agonised howl from her lips. A shud-
der of anguish rippled through her, shivering the
heavy brown sacs that dangled beneath her rib-cage.
Amber gave her six more strokes, the slender wand
of rattan raising distinct, thin stripes over buttocks
and upper thighs.
'Will you talk to me now?'
The reply was silence.
Amber laid on six more vicious strokes. Three to
the buttocks, two on the upper thighs and a final
237

stinging cut to the fleshy overhang where thighs and
fesses merged.
She paused. Again silence.
Six more strokes followed. The well punished flesh
glowed a hot, deep red, the skin almost throbbing
visibly. Anita was sobbing deeply and pregnant drop-
lets of sweat stood out on her forehead. Amber held
her hand. Even before she could speak it became ob-
vious, to her chagrin, that her victim was beyond rea-
son. Anita's lips were drawn back over her teeth in a
rictus grin. A low keening in her throat and her tight-
ly closed eyes spoke more of ecstasy than of agony.
The fire in her flesh had spread to her loins.
'No .. . please . ..' she gasped haltingly, 'please ...
don't stop . . . now.'
Amber let the frenzy of the moment take her over.
The cane rose and fell, again and again, stripes criss-
crossing. Anita howled and groaned under the cli-
mactic assault until, with a throaty yell, she finally
gained release in a shattering, shuddering orgasm.
The sexual excitement had inevitably transmitted
itself to Amber. Hot and horny, she tore off her skirt,
shucked off her panties and stood, presenting her sex
to Anita's mouth.
The brown girl, barely recovered from her own cli-
max, eagerly lapped her tongue over the golden down
that covered her erstwhile tormentor's pudenda. Am-
ber clasped her head, clamping her sex to the girl's
mouth. Anita sucked on her avidly, drawing the
honey-thick mucus that boiled from Amber's quim
into her mouth, swallowing heady draughts of the
sweet love-juice.
Anita's tongue roved over the puffy lips of Amber's
sex, dipping inside to find her clitoris and coiling
about the erectile stalk. Amber gripped her head even
238

more fiercely and yelled lustily as she too came, pour-
ing another flood of musky, sweet cream into her
companion's willing throat.
Amber slumped back into one of the armchairs,
watching idly with barely focused eyes as Simon
mounted their victim. His penis, rigidly erect, ram-
med into Anita's sopping wet gland, slipping easily
up to the hilt. A few strokes and with a grunt, Simon
unleashed his own tribute of seed into Anita's womb.
Amber lay back in the chair. Her mind, sharp and
alert, cut through the torpor of sated lust to worry at
the problem of how to break down Anita's resistance
and get her to talk. Half to herself at first, she began
to muse aloud.
Tain's obviously useless. No point in beating you
any more - you just get off on it. There must be an-
other away ...'
Silence. Suddenly,, as though struck by a flash of
inspiration, Amber drew herself upright and looked
straight at her victim who still hung suspended in the
frame.
'Maybe fear is the answer. Yes! That's it. What are
you afraid of? Spiders? Rats? ... Snakes?'
An almost imperceptible widening of Anita's eyes,
the merest twitch of her lip, told Amber all she
needed to know. It was snakes.
While Simon, at a nod from her, adjusted the frame
to bring Anita to a kneeling position with her arms
stretched above her head, Amber went to the second
armoire. Briefly she searched inside and withdrew a
bulky, jute sack; Lightly she stepped to where Anita
knelt and, loosening the mouth of the sack, dumped
the contents on the floor in front of her.
The helpless girl, an expression of intense panic on
her face, recoiled as much as her bonds allowed, as a
239

mass of snakes, striped black, yellow and green,
writhed on the ground within inches of her knees.
Two of the larger beasts detached themselves from
the living knot, slithering towards her.
Soon one reached her and coiled about her thigh.
It slithered higher, its flat, black head probed between
her thighs. Its sinuous body slipped along the puffy
lips of her sex. The head emerged beneath her but-
tocks. The snake mounted by way of her bum cleft,
up her back, slithering over her shoulder. Anita be-
gan to tremble, biting her lip in a useless attempt to
control herself. A plaintive whimper of abject terror
rose in her throat.
The second snake was now coiling about her other
thigh. Slowly, inch by inch, it slipped over Anita's
belly, rising to meet its mate where it coiled over the
girl's bosom.
Others were now leaving the nest of snakes, writh-
ing and sliding across the floor to join their compan-
ions. Anita was trembling uncontrollably. As if a dam
had burst within her, her face dissolved into an ex-
pression of deepest misery and floods of tears coursed
down her cheeks.
Take them away. Please. Please,' she begged, bare-
ly coherent. Til tell you ... I'll tell you what you
want. Please . . . please . . .'
Quickly Amber peeled the reptiles from Anita's
body, stuffing them back into the sack along with
their less bold comrades that she scooped from the
floor. The poor girl continued to sob, but now as
much in relief as in loathing and soon she had calmed
down enough for Amber to begin her interrogation.
'You can start by telling us the truth about this
place and about yourself.'
Anita took a deep breath to steady herself and, as
240

if finally making up her mind to unburden herself,
began to talk rapidly.
'You'll remember that when the Network was first
constructed there were some . .. deviants who would
not obey the new social rules. The histories talk of
these few deviants being sent into exile. Well, there
weren't a few. There were thousands ... millions.
And the place of exile was right her. We, the present
Californians, are the descendants of those deviants
exiled by the Network, kept apart from the rest of the
world to avoid contamination.
'The Network still monitors behaviour for signs of
deviance. But the cure is more subtle. Today potential
trouble-makers are still sent here, but on vacation, to
be calmed down by .. . well, you know the therapy,
you've experienced it. That's why you and Simon
were selected to come here. Potential deviants to be
nipped in the bud.
'Of course, while you are here the Network still
keeps an eye on you - follows the progress of the
treatment, so to speak.'
'So you are a Network agent?' Amber prompted.
'Yes. All the resort staff are. Although we prefer to
think of ourselves as therapists, helping you to adjust
your attitude for life under the Network.'
'And the Network watches us all the time? Would
have known we were planning to meet you here?'
'Yes. the Network listening devices are everywhere.
Strange that no orders have been issued to detain
you. Your behaviour is rampantly deviant. Quite ob-
viously the usual therapy has failed in your case.'
'And there's a Network machine near here?' Amber
pursued, anxious to get to the heart of the matter.
Anita hesitated. Amber fingered the sack, shooting
a meaningful glance at her.
241

'Yes,' came a grudging monosyllable.
'And it communicates with the rest of the Net-
work?'
Another pause, then, 'Yes, of course.'
'So where is it? How can I access it?' and Amber
made to untie the sack. There was no more holding
back for Anita.
'It's hidden right under everyone's nose. Out in
plain sight where nobody even notices it. In front of
the hotel there's a porter's lodge. The porters are
really there to monitor for Network messages and to
listen in on what's happening in the hotel. The Net-
work terminals are right there. Anyone can just walk
in. But why should anyone bother?'
Amber allowed herself a grin of triumph as she
turned to Simon.
That's all we need to know. It's perfect. Now gag
her and chain her up in one of the cells. She'll be safe
enough until we come back for her.'
Hunting in the cupboards and drawers, Simon
found a leather mask fitted with a rubber stopper or
bridle. Anita made no effort to resist as he slipped the
gag into her mouth and strapped the leather hood in
place, encasing her head so that only her eyes were
visible. Thus securely masked and gagged she meekly
allowed herself to be led to a cell and chained to a
bare bench just as Amber had ordered.
Night had already fallen by the time they reached the
hotel. Amber parked in the darkest corner of the
parking lot, the nose of the car pointed towards the
porter's lodge. A not unpleasant shiver ran up and
down her spine when she recalled the last time she
had sat there, waiting.
They sat in silence, observing the comings and go-
242

ings of the two 'porters' who staffed the lodge. Long
minutes went by, arranged themselves into quarter
hours, half hours. At last one of the men left the
lodge and went into the hotel. He had done this twice
before as they had sat watching, staying away for
some ten minutes each time. Amber hoped that this
was some sort of routine and that this time he would
stay away for the same period. Whatever happened,
she decided, now was the time. She leaned over to
Simon, whispering, 'Follow me, but stay outside until
I can distract him. Then do what you have to. Come
on.'
Simon did as he was told, following a few paces
behind as Amber crossed the deserted parking lot and
stopping in the shadows as she walked boldly into the
lodge.
The porter who had remained behind looked up,
startled by this unexpected intrusion. He smiled when
he saw that his visitor was obviously a guest of the
hotel.
'Can I help you . . . er . .. Miss ...?'
Amber perched on the desk facing him, crossing
her legs, letting the short skirt ride up to show him
an expanse of bare, tanned thigh. She enjoyed the
obvious effect that this had on him. She spoke softly,
a suggestive huskiness in her voice.
'Oh yes. I'm sure you can. Tonight you're going to
make a fantasy come true.'
She uncrossed her legs, letting the skirt ride up even
more, letting him see clearly that underneath she was
bare.
'You see, men in uniform ... do something to me.'
He had edged closer to her now, his hand sliding
up the smooth flesh of her thigh. Slowly Amber un-
buttoned her blouse, letting him see her bare breasts
243

dangling inches from his face. She drew him to her,
his lips captured a nipple, suckling her teat, his
tongue playing over the rosy titbit.
Simon had brought a leather sap from the Club.
Soundlessly he crept through the door and came up
behind the distracted porter. Forcefully he laid the
sap against his head, just behind the right ear. The
man went down in a senseless heap.
It felt good. Like the buzz from the first slug of
scotch, when the alcohol hits your system and your
blood races.
Amber was busy already. A computer terminal
stood on the desk. Amber hunched over it, the phos-
phor glare of the screen casting a greenish glow over
her face. The keyboard click-clacked in short bursts
under her fingers. As she worked she murmured com-
ments, half aloud, half to herself.
'Mm, straight into the system . . . No security, not
even a password . .. Great .. . there they are ...
structured just like on my 486 ..
Glancing up, she caught the quizzical look on Sim-
on's face.
'I've hacked into the Network's main database. I'm
going to erase our records. It will be just like we never
existed. Then we'll be free to go where we please and
do what we want. The file format is very simple. I just
need five more minutes ...'
A scuffle of boots on the concrete path outside
brought her up short. Simon, his nerves already
stretched taut, jerked back behind the door, trying to
press himself through the wall, just as the second por-
ter ambled through the door. The sight of Amber sea-
ted at the terminal stopped him in his tracks. His
mouth flapped open then shut, like a fish.
'Wha .. . who are you? What ...'
244

Simon stroked him with the sap, catching the life-
less form under the armpits, easing him down to the
floor. That second time felt just as good as the first.
Amber turned back to the screen. The five minutes
dragged by. At last she murmured, There - almost
done. Just one more thing.'
A flurry of keystrokes, then:
That's it. Let's go.'
She caught Simon's glance at the two unconscious
forms on the floor. 'Forget about them. They'll be
out for hours. When they come to they won't realise
what we've done. And we won't exist for them - our
files have been purged. So come on!'
Hand in hand they emerged into the darkness.
Briskly they walked away, their pace quickening until
they were running. Running in sheer elation, not
afraid, just free. They ran over the soft sand as it
shelved away from the tarmac parking lot. Ran to-
wards the sound of the ocean pounding on the beach.
They were laughing now. Their lungs empty with run-
ning and laughing, they tumbled together onto the
tight-packed sand at the water's edge.
'We've done it,' panted Amber, hugging him to
her. 'And it was so easy ... so easy.'
'But what about Anita?'
'That's the best part. I erased her records too. Do
you think she'll like working for us instead? She'll
make a great housekeeper.'
Amber rolled on the damp sand, dragging Simon
over and on top of her. She kissed him, open
mouthed.
'Now stop worrying. You know what I want now
245

11
Amber replaced the gold-plated fountain pen on the
blotter in front of her and pushed the heavily padded
swivel chair back from the desk. She stretched luxur-
iously, like a cat. Her hand reached behind to mass-
age the nape of her neck where the first tension knots
of tiredness were beginning to form.
It had been a busy day: a new project just getting
into the pre-production phase; a tricky meeting with
a new writer. Amber had managed to get him to see
things her way, though. She was finding she had quite
a knack for that.
Certainly she was tired but it was a very satisfac-
tory tiredness. A tiredness coupled with a sense of
achievement, a sense of having moved things along in
the right direction.
She glanced at the small gold clock on the desk. If
she left now she would just have time to change and
freshen up before their dinner guests arrived. She
reached a long and red-nailed forefinger over to op-
erate the intercom unit beside the telephone.
'Betty, have the car brought round. I'm leaving
now.'
Riding down in the elevator, Amber fell to musing
pleasantly on the pleasurable possibilities of the even-
ing ahead.
Penny and Guy were no ordinary couple. She felt
246

sure of that. They were both stunningly attractive but
Amber had detected something else beside, some
special quality that drew her to the young woman in
particular. Possibly it had something to do with the
bold and candid way that Penny had sought her out.
One of Amber's early inspirations to earn money
to tide over the fledgling A and S Productions until
their first project was completed had been studio
tours arranged for the visitors of Fantasyworld.
Penny had broken from one such tour group as it was
shepherded around the sound-stage and had marched
boldly up to Amber. It appeared that she was anxious
to talk to Amber about some topic of utmost import-
ance and confidentiality. In view of her exceptional
good looks it had seemed to follow naturally that
Amber should invite her and her very masculine com-
panion to dinner the next evening.
The stretched black limousine arrived at the kerb-
side just as Amber left the air-conditioned coolness of
the office building, blinking in the bright sunlight of
late afternoon. Quickly, anxious to avoid the full im-
pact of the heat, Amber crossed the pavement and
dived through the car door which was held open for
her by the chauffeur and into the cool, dark interior.
Inside, relaxing on the well padded seat, she picked
up the evening newspaper that had been placed ready
for her. She flicked through the pages until she
reached the section that dealt with the main business
of the city, the movie industry, the fiction factories. It
seemed, from what she read, that A and S Produc-
tions' first production was doing good business. Not
a blockbuster, but in profit and set to return ad-
equately on the time and talent invested in it. The
critics had been kind too.
Amber closed her eyes. Things were turning out
247

just perfectly. Sal, Fern and the others had all been
as good as their word. Six months on, one project was
earning well, a second film was already shooting and
a third was in pre-production.
Later, showered and changed into evening clothes,
Amber was ready to greet her guests. Simon too had
finally been persuaded to leave his study and join her
so they were together when Anita showed Penny and
Guy into the lounge.
Coolly elegant in a simple cotton dress, a wide belt
emphasising her slender waist, Penny was even more
delightful than Amber had remembered. Her rich
chestnut hair, drawn back to lend emphasis to the
fine lines of her face, was gathered into a loose pony-
tail which hung luxuriantly down her back. Her com-
plexion was fresh, unadorned by cosmetics. She made
a pleasing picture with her escort, Guy, ruggedly
good looking in a casual sports coat and open-necked
shirt.
The evening progressed through drinks to dinner;
good food, fine wine and pleasant though incon-
sequential conversation. At last, however, Penny took
advantage of a lapse in the flow of small talk. As
though bracing herself against the prospect of a re-
buff she drew a deep breath and began to talk rapidly
but precisely:
'Amber, Guy and I have heard some stories about
you and Simon. How you came to be here. How you
came from the outside, like us.'
Amber smiled quietly to herself. Of course no one
knew the real truth of what had happened, of how
she had erased all trace of herself and Simon from the
Network's memory. But rumours would always grow
to explain the appearance of any new phenomenon.
248

The appearance of a beautiful and forceful female
producer and a talented and handsome writer in part-
nership in the world of movie-making certainly quali-
fied as a remarkable phenomenon that demanded
explanation. She nodded, encouraging Penny to go
on.
'We want to escape from the Network too. We
want to stay here and have real fun, not spend our
lives in the drab, grey, pretend world of the Network.
We could be useful to you. Work for you. Will you
help us?'
Amber had quite suspected that that was what all
this had been leading to. The addition of two such
attractive and determined people to the talents at A
and S was a proposition filled with potential. She
took Penny's hand and gave it a gentle, reassuring
squeeze.
'Of course we'll help. Won't we Simon?'
The tension visibly ebbed from Penny's face, her
sigh of relief was audible. Guy just grinned, showing
lots of perfect, white teeth.
'So we have disposed of business. Let's turn our
attention to pleasure,' Amber declared decisively.
'Let's go back into the lounge where we can be more
comfortable.'
Simon led the way with Amber, her arm draped
lightly about Penny's shoulder, bringing up the rear.
Amber drew down the zip at the back of Penny's
dress. With a shrug of her shoulders the girl let the
thin cotton slip from her, stepping out of it as she
strode over to stand in front of Simon who was al-
ready seated on a capacious sofa. Amber licked her
lips in anticipation as she admired Penny's virginally
white lace-trimmed panties that stretched over her
pertly rounded bottom, and eyed Penny's legs
249

sheathed in sheer flesh-tinted nylon stockings, held
taut by the thinnest of garter belts.
Penny stood quite still while Simon eased the filmy
panties over her bottom and down her legs. He
reached behind her to palpate the firm flesh of her
buttocks while he buried his face in the forest of
brown curls that flourished at her pubic mound.
His tongue parted the mat of hair, finding the en-
trance to her sex, coaxing a tiny gasp of pleasure from
her lips as his tongue found and teased her clitoris.
Amber turned her full attention to Guy, expertly
divesting him of his clothes while he eagerly assisted
her to strip naked. They fell upon each other hun-
grily, mouths and tongues, hands and teeth in a
frenzy of sucking, licking, caressing and biting.
Later, as Amber rode Guy's cock lustily she again
became aware of Penny and Simon. Penny, naked ex-
cept for her stockings, was now kneeling on all fours
on the sofa while Simon, standing behind her, pis-
toned his weapon in and out of her sex, the power of
his thrusts rippling shock-waves through her frame,
jiggling her buttocks and quivering her firmly
rounded breasts.
A long, deep-throated groan and a tell-tale tighten-
ing of his buttocks announced the arrival of Simon's
climax. As his wilting cock slipped from Penny's
still-spasming gash, Amber dismounted and crawled
on hands and knees, like a hound on heat, to clamp
her mouth over the girl's sex, avidly sucking Simon's
creamy effusion into her own mouth, swallowing his
seed mingled with Penny's juices with noisy relish.
Inside the dome that stood beside the derelict city of
Bombay, a young man hurled a shoe at the telescreen
in a futile gesture of rage and frustration. It was bad
250

enough having to spend time supervising the robotics
development laboratory, precious time away from
that which he considered as his true calling. But now
the Network wanted him to take a holiday. A whole
month in some place called Fantasyworld. How could
he ever get on with his novel?
Miles to the north, beneath an exactly similar
dome, the ash-blonde girl smiled knowingly at the
youth she had met just an hour before in the Centre.
Slowly she drew down the zipper at the front of her
overall. She peeled it from her and crumpled it into a
ball before tossing it onto a convenient chair.
She grinned at the look of amazement on her new
friend's face. She smiled with gratification as the look
became one of admiration as he took in her well for-
med breasts, her slim waist, the fecund swell of her
belly beneath her navel, the white-golden curls at her
pubis.
Since he just stood there, apparently not knowing
what was expected of him, she helped. Unzipped his
overall, slipped it from him, glanced with approval at
his slim, hard body.
She lay on the bed and taking his hand, drew him
down on top of her, clamping her open mouth over
his.
'Good grief,' she thought, 'I hope the men in Fan-
tasyworld are more experienced than these near eu-
nuchs who've spent their lives hooked up to a Reality
Machine.'
She grunted encouragement as she felt his prick,
caught between their bellies, stir to hardness.
Deep in their concrete silos the giant computers that
formed the Network were talking to each other in
their private language of electrical pulses, reporting
251

the success of a small but significant experiment in
human development: an experiment that had in-
volved Simon and Amber.
New programs, unused since the human creators of
the Network had built them, were being retrieved
from the electronic archive. Whole areas of data stor-
age were being wiped clean. Gradually the Network
was starting to change, starting to shut itself down.

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Annie's inexhaustible passion for punishment finds an ideal
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Amber has always carried out her duties as coordinator of the
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NEXUS BACKLIST
Where a month is marked on the right, this book will not be
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unless another price is given.
CONTEMPORARY EROTICA
CONTOURS OF DARKNESS
THE DEVIL S ADVOCATE
THE DOMINO TATTOO
THE DOMINO ENIGMA
THE DOMINO QUEEN
ELAINE
EMMA S SECRET WORLD
EMMA ENSLAVED
FALLEN ANGELS
THE FANTASIES OF
JOSEPHINE SCOTT
THE GENTLE DEGENERATES
HEART OF DESIRE
HELEN - A MODERN
ODALISQUE
HIS MISTRESS'S VOICE
THE HOUSE OF MALDONA
THE INSTITUTE
SISTERHOOD OF THE
INSTITUTE
JENNIFER S INSTRUCTION
MELINDA AND THE MASTER
MELINDA AND ESMERALDA
MELINDA AND THE
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MIND BLOWER
Marco Vassi
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Cyrian Amberlake £4.50
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Stephen Ferris
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Maria del Rey
Larry Stern
G. C. Scott
Yolanda Celbridge
Maria del Rey
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Cyrian Amberlake
Susanna Hughes
Susanna Hughes
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Marco Vassi
Nov
Dec
Sep

MS DEEDES AT HOME
MS DEEDES ON PARADISE
ISLAND
THE NEW STORY OF O
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ONE WEEK IN THE PRIVATE
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THE PALACE OF FANTASIES
THE PALACE OF
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PARADISE BAY
THE PASSIVE VOICE
THE SALINE SOLUTION
STEPHANIE
STEPHANIE'S CASTLE
STEPHANIE S REVENGE
STEPHANIE S DOMAIN
STEPHANIE'S TRIAL
STEPHANIE'S PLEASURE
THE TEACHING OF FAITH
THE TRAINING GROUNDS
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Esme Ombreux
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Delver Maddingley
Delver Maddingley
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G. C. Scott
Marco Vassi
Susanna Hughes
Susanna Hughes
Susanna Hughes
Susanna Hughes
Susanna Hughes
Susanna Hughes
Elizabeth Bruce
Sarah Veitch
EROTIC SCIENCE FICTION
ADVENTURES IN THE	Delaney Silver
PLEASUREZONE
RETURN TO THE	Delaney Silver
PLEASUREZONE
FANTASYWORLD	Larry Stern
WANTON	Andrea Arven
ANCIENT & FANTASY SETTINGS
CHAMPIONS OF LOVE
CHAMPIONS OF PLEASURE
CHAMPIONS OF DESIRE
THE CLOAK OF APHRODITE
SLAVE OF LIDIR
DUNGEONS OF LIDIR
THE FOREST OF BONDAGE
PLEASURE ISLAND
WITCH QUEEN OF VIXANIA
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Aran Ashe
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EDWARDIAN, VICTORIAN & OLDER EROTICA
ANNIE
ANNIE AND THE SOCIETY
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CHOOSING LOVERS FOR
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GARDENS OF DESIRE
THE LASCIVIOUS MONK
LURE OF THE MANOR
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MAN WITH A MAID 2
MAN WITH A MAID 3
MEMOIRS OF A CORNISH
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TIME OF HER LIFE
VIOLETTE
Evelyn Culber
Evelyn Culber
Anonymous
Aran Ashe
Roger Rougiere
Anonymous
Barbra Baron
Anonymous
Anonymous
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Yolanda Celbridge
Josephine Scott
Anonymous
THE JAZZ AGE
Oct
BLUE ANGEL DAYS
BLUE ANGEL NIGHTS
BLUE ANGEL SECRETS
CONFESSIONS OF AN
ENGLISH MAID
PLAISIR DAMOUR
FOLIES D AMOUR
JOIE D AMOUR
MYSTERE D AMOUR
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WAR IN HIGH HEELS
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EROTICON 2
EROTICON 3
EROTICON 4
NEW EROTICA 1
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THE FIESTA LETTERS
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ed. J-P Spencer
ed. J-P Spencer
ed. Esme Ombreux
ed. Esme Ombreux
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NON-FICTION
FEMALE SEXUAL
AWARENESS
HOW TO DRIVE YOUR
MAN WILD IN BED
HOW TO DRIVE YOUR
WOMAN WILD IN BED
LETTERS TO LINZI
LINZI DREW'S PLEASURE
GUIDE
B & E McCarthy	£5.99
Graham Masterton
Graham Masterton
Linzi Drew
Linzi Drew

Please send me the books I have ticked above.
Name
Address
Post code
Send to: Cash Sales, Nexus Books, 332 Ladbroke Grove,
London W10 5AH
Please enclose a cheque or postal order, made payable to Nexus
Books, to the value of the books you have ordered plus postage and
packing costs as follows:
UK and BFPO - £1.00 for the first book, 50p for the second book,
and 30p for each subsequent book to a maximum of £3.00;
Overseas (including Republic of Ireland) - £2.00 for the first
book, £1.00 for the second book, and 50p for each subsequent book.
If you would prefer to pay by VISA or ACCESS/MASTERCARD,
please write your card number here:
Please allow up to 28 days for delivery
Signature: