Secretly Seduced: The Interview Series Book One

by White, L. E.

  “Yes, we kissed and touched each other’s nipples. She wanted us to take out clothes off and get in bed but I was afraid,” said Stacy.

  “What were you afraid of?”

  “Being thought of as a lesbian which is not something we have in the Todd family. Her family and mine were good friends. Her dad is an administrator at a hospital where my dad has privileges. I was afraid somehow they would find out.”

  “How about boys? Don’t tell me you’ve never been fucked.”

  “Before last Friday night, only two and they were disasters.”

  “How so?”

  “Prom night, I lost my virginity. It was my idea. I kept thinking I was the only girl in my high school who had never been screwed. I told my date to get a hotel room. I had this fantasy of incredible romantic sex,” said Stacy.

  “But you chose the wrong guy,” said Portia.

  “Exactly, Cuba Libre was my downfall. My effort to get properly laid was frustrated by rum and coca-cola. Four drinks and he didn’t know his own name. I practically had to carry him to the room where he passed out on the bed after puking his guts out.”

  “Men are only good for one thing and most men aren’t even good for that,” said Portia.

  “With Herculean effort I undressed him then applied my limited oral skills to make him hard. Next, I straddled him and managed to get the pole in the hole. The first few strokes hurt a little but I persisted and just as I was getting everything working, his eyes popped open. He threw me off and ran for the john where he proceeded to puke up another quart of rum and a gallon of coke. He spent the rest of the night lying on the bathroom floor groaning. I jerked off and fell asleep.”

  “The course of true love never runs smooth,” said Portia. “And the other?”

  “Justin Cook, his family and mine are also good friends so I felt he would be a safe choice. As it turned out, Justin had less experience with sex than I did. The Cooks own a beautiful yacht they keep at a marina in Boston Harbor. I’d been on it dozens of times for family cruises. It had this incredible master stateroom with two Chagall’s and a Manet. I got this idea in my head it would be an incredible romantic experience to have sex there,” said Stacy.

  “And the lesson learned was that great art does not make for great sex,” said Portia.

  “Not when your partner suffers from premature ejaculation. Justin was a nerd in school. He and I had an email friendship in which he was always bragging about the great sex he was having. He’s studying software engineering at MIT. I brought a black nightgown and a bottle of champagne. I should have noticed right off he was a nervous wreck. I put his cock in my mouth and he came instantly.”

  “Stacy, that’s not as rare as you think,” said Portia recalling a recent time she had acquired a face full of jism from an inexperienced Indian friend who had been showing her his sitar.

  “My tongue touched his penis and one second later I had a liquid lunch I washed down with champagne. Justin apologized then tearfully informed me that his prior tales of sexual escapades were all lies. I reassured him all would be well and the second time would rock my world. My mouth got him hard but as he went to enter me, I felt something warm land on my belly,” said Stacy.

  “You are not the first female to encounter a quick shooter. I’ve met more than a few,” said Portia.

  “This time he was really upset. It took me half an hour to calm him down and convince him the third time was a charm,” said Stacy.

  “But it wasn’t,” said Portia.

  “He managed to get just the tip in my vagina before he lost control,” said Stacy.

  “I spent the rest of the night on suicide watch. We played computer games until the sun came up,” said Stacy.

  “Not exactly a favorable introduction to the pleasures of the flesh,” said Portia.

  “No, that day I made a decision to delay further experimentation until I was older or got married. I bought into the idea that the problem was I didn’t give a shit about either of my partners. But when I met someone I really cared about, everything would change and the sex would be great.”

  “How was it with the Italian stallion, the cop? Let me guess, great.”

  “Terrific, I remember telling myself I was going to ask him to call me so we could do it again. I had this crazy idea he really liked me and we’d start dating.”

  “Even though it was blackmail and he was married?”

  “Even though he blackmailed me and he was married with two children. He showed me their pictures after we made love. I had that good a time. Frankly, if what he wants is for me to go out with him again, the DVD wasn’t necessary. I would have anyway.”

  “He’s very good looking,” said Portia.

  “And a smooth talker, I was quite taken with Mike Cabreeze,” said Stacy.

  “You may not be the first college girl he’s blackmailed and seduced. He sounds experienced. He did his homework and knew exactly which of your buttons to push,” said Portia as he placed the roach in a nearby ashtray. “You’re sort of a diamond in the rough, Stacia Todd.”

  “Me, what do you mean?”

  “Most girls your age and social class are more experienced about sex. You’re learning things your peers learned years ago. Roll over on your stomach.”

  “True, I blame my parents for that. They kept me so busy that I didn’t have time to explore. SAT drills, dance classes, and skeet practice took up all my spare time when I wasn’t in class or doing homework and studying. Everybody in my school was worked to death. It was very competitive too. I remember when we were freshman, we had this discussion about how we were going to get into an Ivy League college,” said Stacy after she had rolled over.

  “And if you didn’t go to an Ivy League college you were a failure,” said Portia. “Raise your hips.”

  “Yes, only total losers went to other schools unless it was Stanford,” said Stacy feeling Portia’s hands separate her buttocks. “What are you going to do?”

  “Something I have wanted to do since we the semester started, rim your beautiful asshole,” said Portia sliding a pillow in place before taking hold of Stacy’s ankles and spreading her leg apart.

  “I used to think anything anal was disgusting,” said Stacy. “But I licked Mike’s ass when he asked me.”

  “Was it squeaky clean, a little funky, or are you a shit licker,” asked Portia burying her nose in Stacy’s crack to inhale the aroma.

  “Christ, I think I’m a shit licker,” said Stacy relaxing into the sensation of having Portia’s nose pressing against her sphincter as she recalled not being put off by the smell and taste of Mike’s stained anus.

  “Nothing wrong with that, a swallow of fresh pee and the taste of shit is one of my favorite sexual appetizers. Bu we can get into that later. My grandfather had an old saying. Life was like the old lady who kissed a cow, it’s all a matter of taste,” said Portia placing her tongue on Stacy’s sphincter.

  “I licked Mike’s butthole and he didn’t even ask me to. Oh that feels good,” said Stacy feeling the tip of Portia’s tongue tease her anus.

  “Lust and desire propel us to take actions we would otherwise avoid. You asshole tastes delicious,” said Portia reaching under Stacy to massage her clit.

  “If you keep sucking my butt and playing with my clit, I’ll come,” said Stacy.

  “That’s the idea,” said Portia forking her fingers around Stacy’s clit and squeezing it.

  “And once I get off, it’s my turn to eat your butt.”

  “I have to warn you. I’m not too clean down there,” said Portia.

  “Good,” said Stacy.

  Chapter 9 The Arrangement

  “I didn’t know you were a dyke,” said Lt. Mike Cabreeze as soon as Stacy answered her cell phone. Stacy had been sound asleep, spooned around Portia when it rang.

  “What do you want?” asked Stacy recognizing his voice and wondering how Mike had found out about her and Portia so quickly. Somehow, he must be spying on them.

/>   “We need to talk,” said Mike. “I’m parked outside, dark green Crown Vic.”

  “What the fuck is a Crow Vic?”

  “Ford Crown Victoria, dummy, it’s the Cadillac of unmarked police cars. You’re not out in five I’m coming in and drag your naked ass out,” said Mike abruptly ending the call.

  She’s one fine looking piece of tail thought Mike watching his laptop’s screen. The small video surveillance camera he hidden in a ceiling vent gave a grainy but usable view of her dorm room. At the moment, it showed a naked Stacy climbing out of bed while exchanging words with Portia. Mike listened as the microphone picked up their conversation.

  “It’s him, Mike. He’s outside and wants to talk,” said Stacy rushing to get dressed.

  “He didn’t waste any time,” said Portia sitting up.

  “What do you think he wants?”

  “My guess, pussy, yours to be exact,” said Portia. “He’s making a booty call except you’re supposed to go to him.”

  “Jesus, he’s married. You think he could screw his wife any time he wanted. I’m going to tell him to fuck off.”

  “Married guys are the worst when it comes to wanting to fuck all the time. Maybe you should just play it cool until we figure out what to do,” said Portia. “He might get violent.”

  “And if he wants to fuck me again,” asked Stacy?

  “Do it. You said he was a good lay and getting screwed is better than a beating.”

  “That was before I learned he was a creep,” said Stacy.

  “At least, he’s not a troll. Suppose he was a three hundred pound slob who sweated all the time and it was impossible to find his cock under all those layers of fat. My advice is to play along. See what he wants. Perhaps you can get on his good side.”

  Mike whispered to himself. “Portia’s the smart one, Stacy, and you ought to listen to her. But somehow I bet you still think you’re smarter than me.”

  “All right, I’ll try it your way,” said Stacy giving Portia a kiss before leaving.

  ***

  “There’s a piece of paper for you in the glove box,” said Mike as soon as Stacy climbed in his car. He’d snapped the laptop shut and slipped it under his seat when he saw Stacy leave her dorm room.

  “You’re parked in a handicap space,” said Stacy.

  “Yeah, like I give a fuck.”

  “What is it?’ asked Stacy opening the compartment. There were only two things inside other than the owner’s manual. One was a non-descript rectangular object the size of a brick wrapped in plastic. There was a single sheet of white paper under it.

  Stacy reached for the plastic brick picking it up so she could remove the paper underneath. She placed the brick back in the glove box as she unfolded the paper. She was surprised when Mike unexpectedly reached over, key in hand, to lock the glove box.

  “What was all that about,” asked Stacy?

  “Proving to you what a stupid cunt you are. I now have your fingerprints on a kilogram of China White heroin. Anything over an ounce qualifies you as a dealer in Massachusetts. Dealers get a mandatory fifteen to twenty five years,” said Mike.

  “You motherfucker, give me that key,” screamed Stacy throwing herself at Mike with arms flailing.

  Stacy landed several glancing blows before Mike grabbed her by the throat, pushed her back against the door and slammed his fist into her mid section. She felt her diaphragm snap in the wrong direction as every molecule of air exited her lungs. Stacy was desperately trying to breathe when Mike’s hand embedded itself in her hair forcing her head upright. He landed an open palm slap to the side of Stacy’s face snapping her head around, spraying bloody spit across the windshield. Another slap quickly followed on the opposite side of her face. Stacy tasted blood. The blows left Stacy stunned with a bleeding lip. Her face was on fire and her ears were ringing.

  But Mike wasn’t finished. Stacy realized she should have followed Portia’s advice.

  Helpless, she was unable to stop Mike form lifting up her tee shirt exposing her braless breasts. There’d been no time to put on underwear. Almost instantly, she felt a pain so horrible in her left breast she screamed in agony. When she looked down, a pair of pliers was crushing her nipple. Stacy had never felt such pain as the grooved metal surface compacted her tender flesh the width of a nickel. Stacy lost control at that point grabbing Mike’s wrist and screaming hysterically.

  Mike moved the pliers back and forth pulling a pleading Stacy across the bench seat. Both her hands were wrapped around Mike’s attempting to remove the instrument causing her agonizing pain.

  “Please take it off,” begged Stacy her eyes full of tears.

  “Next time, you take a swing at me; I’m going to take you to a crack house on Mass Avenue and handcuff you to a bed and leave you there for the druggies and creeps. I guarantee you if you survive, you’ll have every STD known to medical science including AIDS,” said Mike twisting the pliers causing Stacy to shriek in pain.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want. Just take it off,” pleaded a totally desperate Stacy.

  “Say please and apologize.”

  “Please, Mike, I’m sorry I hit you. I’ll do anything you want. I can’t stand the pain,” said Stacy her brain numbed by the agony she was experiencing.

  Stacy’s hand went immediately to her injured breast the moment Mike released the pliers.

  “That was stupid. You better smarten up,” said Mike. “Now, look at the paper.”

  Stacy picked the single sheet of paper off the car floor and unfolded it. It was a list of names and addresses of her parents, aunts, uncles, and even her grandfather. She also recognized the names of doctors who worked in her mother’s clinic or were associates of her father.

  “Do I have to draw you a picture,” asked Mike?

  “No, I get it. You’ll send that horrible DVD to these addresses,” said Stacy. “How much money do you want?”

  “Rich cunt thinks she can buy her way out of anything. Well, I got news for you, sweetie. All your family’s money and even grandmother’s antique jewelry ain’t going to make a dime’s worth of difference. This isn’t about money.”

  “Well what is it then? Tell me.”

  Mike relaxed back into the car seat before speaking. “You know I saw you at the Court House at your trial. Your Mom looked so pissed.”

  “She was pissed. She had to take the day off from her precious allergy clinic,” said Stacy realizing where she had seen Mike before. During the few minutes that it took her to plead guilty she had glanced around the room. Mike Cabreeze had been standing at the back watching her.

  “Dad didn’t look too happy either,” said Mike.

  “Disappointed in me was how he described it,” said Stacy recalling what she once considered the worst day of her life.

  “I liked the way you looked,” said Mike reaching for Stacy and drawing her into his arms. “So I chose you.”

  Stacy was too terrified not to let Mike hold her. “Am I supposed to say thank you?”

  “Sure, why not? I decided to wipe that smug Harvard rich girl look off your face. You needed to be taught humility. I did some research. I tailed you a couple of times. Setting you up was easy.”

  “This is sick. You’re sick,” said Stacy quietly. Her hand was still clutching her throbbing breast as she rested her head on Mike’s shoulder. The pain was slowly subsiding but the area surrounding the areola was turning purple.

  “I got a clean bill of health from the psyche board,” said Mike smiling.

  “So what is it you want?”

  “From now on, you do as I say. I say jump and you ask how high on the way up. Else I make a trip to the post office.”

  “Don’t do that. I’ll do what you want,” said Stacy imaging how her family would react to the DVD. It was her paternal grandfather she was most concerned with. Stacy was his obvious favorite among his grandchildren. He had a bad heart. Seeing Stacy in that DVD would crush the elderly gentleman and hurt the person in t
he world she most cared about.

  “Or I could get a warrant to search your dorm room and find that key of China White with your fingerprints. I might include your rug munching girl friend Portia in the bust. You could be cell mates,” said Mike.

  “Portia has nothing to do with any of this. She’s not rich. Her parents are schoolteachers in New Jersey. Leave her alone,” said Stacy.

  “I know all about Portia even that she likes to put her fingers in your ass while she licks your pussy. It’s up to you to keep her from going to prison,” said Mike.

  “All right, whatever you say,” asked Stacy resigned to the idea she had no choice other than to follow Mike’s directions?

  “For starters, this Friday I’m having a poker party for a few of my buddies. It’s a regular thing. We call ourselves the Posse. It starts at 7:00. Be there. Wear something sexy,” said Mike.

  “Where?”

  “Building 2, Apartment 311, same place we first made love,” said Mike.

  “Before you drugged and raped me,” said Stacy angered by the realization she was no longer in control of her fate.

  “That attitude will get your other nipple in my pliers and this time I’ll twist it off and make you eat it.”

  “Sorry, Building 2, Apartment 311, what do you mean by sexy?”

  “Heels, stay up hose, skirt, dress up, no jeans, do your best to please me and my pliers will stay in the tool box,” said Mike. “Learn to look good all the time, not like some grungy college coed who doesn’t give a shit about her appearance.”

  “I don’t have those kinds of clothes,” said Stacy.

  “Buy them. You can afford it. Upgrade your wardrobe. You’ll thank me later.”

  “I’ll do my best. Fashion isn’t exactly my thing.”

  “It is now. I suggest you get a subscription to Elle or Vogue and learn how to dress like a lady. Lose five, no ten pounds and tighten up your abs,” said Mike.

  “I weigh exactly what I did in high school,” said Stacy wondering how much of her life Mike intended to control. Would there be anything left for her to manage?