Poison

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

“Ted. Hey, it’s Rebecca… Yeah… You doin’ okay? You ever get that ink out from under your toenails?” She paused a moment, then laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll never tell your wife, but you do owe me, remember?”

She listened a moment longer, a mischievous smile playing about her mouth. “Look, Ted. I got something for you; a journalism student.”

Lindsey held her breath.

“Yeah, I know... But she’s good. She’s going to win a Pulitzer. Trust me.”

He responded.

“Don’t give me s**t. I’m the one doing you a favor, here. See the girl. She’s the best the University has to offer this year. And she’s got nice t**s!” Rebecca turned to Lindsey and winked. “You’ll thank me.”

Rebecca listened again. “You heard what I said.” Rebecca scrambled for her bag. “Give it to me again.” She scribbled on the back of a business card. “Yeah. She’s good down there as well!” Rebecca snapped her phone closed and turned to Lindsey.

“You know the Boston Globe?” Rebecca asked.

“Yes, of course.” Lindsey was breathless.

“His name is Ted Turlow; Editor-in-Chief. But don’t call him Mr. Turlow, he hates it. Call him sir until he asks you to call him Ted. Here’s the number.” Rebecca passed Lindsey the business card. “It’s for his executive assistant. Contact him next week and he will set up the interview.”

Lindsey was stunned. If it worked out, she would be fast-tracked to one of the country’s major dailies. And this woman, sitting beside her, had done it with one phone call. “I don’t know what to say.” Lindsey found herself reeling with the anticipation.

“You don’t have to say anything. Ted’s a pussycat, really. I worked for him a dozen years.”

“You worked at the Globe? You’re a journalist?”

“Mmm. Was. Features writer... but that was another lifetime. Now look, wear something sexy; he likes a tight youthful body, but don’t expect to land a job by flashing a little cleavage. Ultimately it will come down to how good you are. But I got a feeling you’ll do okay.”

Lindsey wanted to believe that, but wasn’t as sure. “I have to work up my resume.”

“Don’t bother. Ted hasn’t time for damned resumes. Give him the hardest-hitting story you’ve ever written; one where you worked hard to dig up some dirt. Something he can sink his teeth into. And well, if you start to lose him, you do have nice tits.”

“I arrived at school one morning,” Lindsey offered, “and there was a guy hanging from the flagpole. I used to carry a camera, in those days, and got a great shot of the ambulance attendants cutting him down.”

“He was dead?”

“Oh no. Worse. He was hanging by his wrists; a couple of feet off the ground. He had r***d two of the first-year students and some of the senior girls decided to do something to curb his appetite. They had trussed him up during the night, pulled his pants down, and twisted a wire around his scrotum. They hung one of the school fire extinguishers from the other end of the wire.”

“Ouch!”

“Yeah, I know. Everyone knew who had got to the guy and I interviewed a couple of the senior girls. Later that day, I went to the hospital. I flirted with one of the interns; told him I was the guy’s sister. The intern told me that the circulation had been cut off and they had amputated.”

“They cut off his nuts?”

“Oh yeah. I wrote it up, but the school paper refused to print it. But the editor of the City magazine wasn’t so prissy. I got two pages.”

“And you still have a copy of the magazine?”

“Sure.”

“Perfect! Ted will love it!”

Rebecca shifted a little closer and reached out boldly with both hands. Lindsey went as cold as granite. Rebecca hooked fingers into the loose neckline of Lindsey’s red dress and pulled the silk away from her chest so she could peer down.

“My, Stoney was right. You do have long nipples.” She enjoyed the view for a moment longer before dropping her hands down to the hem of Lindsey’s dress. She lifted the fabric and studied the spot where Lindsey’s white pants bunched and disappeared around her crotch. “My… my. You’ll do. Yes, you’ll do nicely.

Lindsey wasn’t so naive as to think the woman wanted only a polite “thank you” for her efforts with the editor-in-chief at the Boston Globe. At some point in the future, there would be a phone call: an invitation to dinner, or perhaps for the weekend. The woman would expect a little favor. A favor she would want Lindsey to plant between her thighs. Would Lindsey be capable? What was the job at the Boston Globe worth to her? God, anything...

Instead of working for the weekly rag from Backside, outta Nowhere, her career would be a rocket-ride. After two years of hard work at the Globe she could virtually write her own ticket; work anywhere. She could practically taste a Pulitzer!

Rebecca had just dropped Lindsey’s hemline, smoothed the folds along her thighs, when the sliding glass door opened and the men entered, Carmen snuggling seductively between them. The shoulder of her dress had slipped into the crook of her elbow and her right breast bobbled as she walked; the cheeky n****e teased and glistened with mouth-moisture. Someone had been sucking on something other than a cigar out on the terrace.

They came toward Lindsey; the scent of sweet, black tobacco followed. With a churning stomach, Lindsey perceived a certain intensity in the way they moved, lips thin with anxiety, eyes hooded. All except Carmen, of course. She smiled giddily, like she was party to an inside joke.

“Oh… oh,” Rebecca exhaled. “I need a cold beer. Enjoy your party.” And she moved off to the end of the room, leaving Lindsey to fend for herself. Not that there was much of a defense to be mounted against three men.

“Sweet Lindsey,” Doctor Stone called to her, reaching down to grasp her hands. He’d never called her “Sweet Lindsey” before. “Everyone’s been dying to get to know you. Intimately. He pulled her to her feet, and stepping back, dragged her to the center of the room. The others closed ranks around her.

“Doctor Stone. I don’t know what you’re asking of me?”

She was aware that someone was touching her about her bottom but she was too bewildered to mount a protest.

He laughed then. Like he sensed victory. “These are my friends,” he said. “I’m asking you to be a good girl, for me, and for them.”

It tumbled home then. She was expected to provide the evening’s entertainment. “No, I can’t,” she pleaded. But he was already forcing her to the carpet. “Please! Don’t make me!” Lindsey was down and Carmen stepped in to take her shoulders. Doctor Stone removed his jacket, folded it lengthwise and draped it across the arm of the sofa. Stepping forward, he stood directly in front of Lindsey’s strained position and pulled down the zipper of his slacks. Reaching in, he extracted a long rubbery p***s and pushed toward Lindsey’s face.

“Take it,” he demanded. “Take it. Suck it. And swallow what I give you.”

Straight forward. Uncomplicated: Take it... suck it... Lindsey, on her knees, was paralyzed.

Lindsey was aware that Carmen had shifted position. Her hands now held Lindsey’s head, fists of hair snared on each side; presenting her mouth to Doctor Stone’s rising p***s.

He touched it to her lips. “No,” she cried, fighting the tears. But Carmen tilted her head back and Doctor Stone moved forward and into her mouth. Carmen held her steady as Stone pumped slowly into her face. Lindsey held her breath. Someone was working the zipper of her dress down and it hung loosely, caught in her arms where her fists were balled in the legs of Doctor Stone’s woolen slacks. He hardened quickly, crowding her throat. Lindsey gagged, tried to turn away, but Carmen held her at the ready.

Fingers were milking her n*****s but she kept her eyes screwed shut. She didn’t care who or why. She only cared to deal with the p***s that threatened to suffocate her.

He thrust deeply, one last time, penetrating. Lindsey’s chest heaved and her swollen tongue lurched; her stomach threatened to turn itself inside-out. He pulled back slightly, withdrawing part of the length, and she felt the spasm, then the multiple contractions. There was the first spurt of warmth at the back of her throat and then a pulsating storm of liquid.

She had heard stories of how it might taste: salty, soapy, sweet. But there was little flavor; it was the texture that made her want to puke. She made the mistake of not swallowing right away. It would have been better to choke it down and be done with it, quickly. But she had hesitated. It was like a puddle of raw egg waiting on her tongue. Lindsey struggled to turn away, empty her mouth onto the carpet, but Carmen held her onto his p***s until finally, Lindsey forced his semen down.

“She’s taken it,” Carmen said, her hand on the front of Lindsey’s throat.

He laughed then, pulling his slimy c**k from between her bruised lips. He stepped back. Looking down into her tearful eyes, his hand still cupping her chin, he smiled. “Who’s next?” he said.