Mindy was allowed several days to recuperate from the brutality shown her by first the white-haired dyke, then the sleazy man with a distinct yearning for watching a dog fuck with humans. Although weak, she managed to get the three blocks necessary for her escape freed from the wall of her cell.
Once she had almost been caught, but had covered by feigning cramps. That did not prevent Michelle from ordering her to service another patron, but this one was extremely mundane and pedestrian in his tastes. All he wanted was to fuck. No frills, no special positions, nothing except the time-honored missionary position.
Mindy refrained from offering to initiate him into some of the more exciting sexual acrobatics she had learned. If he was just horny and wasn't getting any ass, she would simply lie there and let him screw her until he came. It wasn't her place to dictate to him what to do. Besides, she couldn't really say she enjoyed the encounter. She had lain under the man like a log. The patron had probably left thinking he had had his first taste, of necrophilia and had fucked a corpse.
Back in her cell, she changed into functional clothing for her proposed escape. It was night, and she chose black blouse and slacks for her sojourn to the outer world. Simple black shoes completed the outfit, made her virtually invisible outside in the still darkness.
The blocks removed and pulled away, Mindy wiggled through the tiny opening and, for the first time in nine weeks, felt grass crush and moisten her hand. The night air enveloped her and, although heavily laden with smog, the girl inhaled sleepily and held it far down in her lungs.
It smelled of freedom.
She looked around the manicured lawn and saw no guards. The entire side of the building was blank and held no windows from which someone might see her attempting to escape. Out of curiosity more than good sense, Mindy silently rounded the building to check out the grounds. She wanted to see the exterior of he Institute.
The building itself was vastly larger than she had expected. She had been kept in one small wing. The entire structure spread out over an acre and was surrounded by another five acres of close cropped grass. In front of the edifice was a large driveway, several large and expensive cars parked in spaces with "Reserved" signs in front of them. Mindy counted four Mercedes, two Bentleys, one Rolls-Royce and a small, gunmetal-grey Aston Martin DB5.
In another parking tot were several limousines, all chauffeured, all long and black and reeking of money. It must have been in those that the patrons came to The Institute.
Indeed, Mindy saw a large, tasteful sign on the front of the building proclaiming "The Institute for Advance Research". Yes, this was The Institute.
The girl edged back around the building, then ran as hard as she could until she reached a cyclone fence with twin strands of nasty barbed wire strung along the top. The fangs on the wire gleamed wickedly in the dim illumination cast by the stars. Mindy was inordinately pleased she could see at least a few of the brighter stars tonight. Not many, but enough to make her feel good, both about escaping and about experiencing the real world again.
But it would be impossible to clamber over the fence; the girl knew that the instant she saw the telltale strand of wire that was different from the others. The fence was either electrified or alarmed. Either would be bad news for her.
Tunneling under the baffler was another matter. She scouted along the perimeter until she found a place where some exuberant animal had already begun to dig under the fence from the outside. It was only a matter of a few minutes' work before she had enlarged the hole sufficiently to slip under the fence.
The highway was less than a hundred yards distant. Standing on the shoulder of the road watching the cars race by gave Mindy a few seconds to think. On a truly stupid impulse, rather than trying to get away from the vicinity of The Institute, she crossed the freeway and slid down the steep embankment on the far side of the road. Her nostrils flared wildly as she bounced and awkwardly slid to the beach.
The Pacific Ocean reached out, seemingly forever, in front of her. Golden grains of sand sparkled and appeared phosphorescent as the thin sliver of moon appeared over the embankment behind her. Mindy walked along the strand of beach for a little ways, feeling the sand grit and crunch under her feet. What was she to do?
She'd escaped. The Institute wouldn't really look for her as long as she didn't try to bring the police into the matter.
Besides, she didn't like police. And the men that ran The Institute would probably be the more powerful in the long run. There was no way of telling who their patrons had been in the past, who they had captured on film and could blackmail.
She shuddered when she thought of the current patrons.
No, she couldn't tell anyone about The Institute. Not and expect to live very long. And she certainly couldn't return home to Denver. Bill had probably found another girlfriend he hadn't been all that thrilled anyway. He had just seemed good to a naive girl who didn't know of more sophisticated sexual techniques. The things she could show him now!
And her mother and father wouldn't be glad to see her. Daisy LaFarge might not have even missed her. The downer haze she stumbled around in was usually absolute. And Larry LaFarge was such a stinking, degenerate son of a bitch, Mindy knew she'd try to kill him with her bare hands if the opportunity presented itself.
She could not return to Denver.
Her options seemed limited. She could hitchhike up the freeway, get to San Francisco, perhaps, and lose herself in that city. She could stay in Los Angeles, too, but that posed the same problems. What was she trained to do? Her, a teeneage girl, flat broke and without a profession?
Except her body.
Mindy shivered at the prospect of becoming a whore. She was good in bed, but letting some ugly, zit-faced weasel pimp for her was totally unappealing. And she had learned enough to know that free-lance hookers didn't last long. They usually had terminal accidents.
As if the heavens opened, the revelation of what to do hit Mindy like Divine Revelation.
She stood, staring out across the ocean for long minutes, then laughed.
It was a full, robust laugh, the sound of a person who has conquered insurmountable odds. Without further hesitation, Mindy made her way back up the steep, sandy embankment, dashed across the highway, dodging cars the entire time, and found her burrow under the fence back into the grounds of The Institute. Mindy raced pell-mell to the back of the building and found the spot with the missing blocks. She listened for a few seconds and heard nothing moving inside.
Mindy quickly slipped back into her cell, went to the iron grille in the door and peered into the hall. It was empty.
In a flash, Mindy had gone to her wardrobe and selected the most elegant dress she could find. It was probably the most expensive and one she truly loved to wear. She stripped off her black garments, tossed aside all her underwear, then donned a pair of bikini briefs. The gown slipped on, a perfect fit to her smooth lines. It was a brilliant emerald green, matching the color of her eyes exactly. A plunging vee neckline descended to Mindy's sternum and delightfully exposed the twin globes of her snowy tits to superlative effect.
Her nipples prodded the material slightly, provocatively, and enhanced the overall erotic impact of the gown tenfold. As if a second skin, the dress clung to her flaring hips and ass before falling to a spot just above her knees. The girl quickly slipped into a pair of smoky-colored pantyhose, selected shoes matching the Brazilian topaz green of her dress, then brushed her golden hair several times, getting the snarls and tangles smoothed out.
When she examined herself critically in the minor on her dresser, it wasn't a teenager reflected back, it was a highly sophisticated and worldly woman. Satisfied with her appearance, Mindy painstakingly slipped back out her escape route into the night.
The warm night air caressed her bare shoulders and back, seemed to linger and plunge down the decolletage of her dress in a highly erotic fashion. She smiled and felt a glow of inner contentment suffuse throughout her body. She was taking a big gamble, but one which she thought would be worth the risk.
At the front of The Institute, Mindy boldly walked up the bisque tile walk with erotic drawings imprinted on the surface, went up to the massive oaken doors with their ornate carvings, then rang the bell. A man dressed in fine livery answered the door. His eyebrows arched slightly at the entrancing sight before him, but he said in a cool, controlled voice, "May I be of service, madam?"
Trembling inside like a plate of jelly, but outwardly composed, Mindy responded, "I would like to speak with the director of The Institute."
"May I inquire as to your name and business?" Mindy wasn't certain, but she thought she detected a slight bulge under the man's left arm. He might be carrying a guy, a bodyguard for the man running The Institute.
"Tell him Mindy LaFarge desires a few words with him. It's a private matter."
The butler never blinked. He stood back, opening the door for Mindy. "If you would be so kind as to wait here, I shall announce your presence to Dr. Hunt."
Mindy entered the hall and had to catch her breath at the splendor and elegance of her surroundings. Everything, but everything, in The Institute was first class. The decor in the "waiting room" was tasteful, quiet and well arranged. The walls were hung with two original Rembrandts and one Vameer, although Mindy did not recognize them as such. The furniture had the air of antiquity about it, yet seemed to be functional. There was none of the fragile appearance that normally shrouded antique furnishings.
Mindy did not have the opportunity to further examine the room. The butler returned and said. "This way, Miss LaFarge. Dr. Hunt will see you right away."
He led the way up a spiral staircase to the second floor. Mindy was lost in a paradise of her situation. This might work, this wild scheme of hers. She wanted to see Dr. Hunt, the apparent director, before making any firm judgment as to her chances.
Whatever happened, she couldn't be any worse off than she already was.
She was ushered into a massive office as tastefully appointed as the downstairs rooms. Behind a large desk sat a man in his early thirties, swarthy, with coal-black eyes and hair. He had a square jaw, a powerful demeanor that made him attractive rather than handsome.
Above all, he exuded power.
Mindy knew instantly that Dr. Michael Hunt, or so it said on the nameplate, was the top man at The Institute.
When he spoke, his voice was a baritone, resonant and commanding. "Please, Miss LaFarge, be seated." He indicated a plushly covered chair beside the teakwood desk. He waited until Mindy was seated, eyeing her in true appreciation. His eyes did not miss the deep plunge of her neckline or the barely suppressed swells of her tits; he certainly did not miss the flash of smoky stocking as Mindy sat and gracefully crossed her long, slender legs.
He returned to his desk chair and took a cigarette from a silver-inlaid case on his desk. As he lit the cigarette, he said, "I'd offer you one except you don't smoke, do you?"
Mindy, surprised, asked, "How do you know that?"
"I keep a reasonably up-to-date file on all my inmates."
The silence between them lengthened as they studied one another, coal-black eyes boring into emerald-green ones. Mindy finally broke the silence.
"You know why I'm here."
"Not really, but I think I can make a fair guess. You wanted to show you could escape but didn't. You probably want a better position at The Institute and considered this the best way of showing your loyalty."
"You're right on the beam. Very perceptive."
A small smile wrinkled at the corners of Dr. Hunt's lips. He only said, "It is to my advantage to be on top of any situation. Having a Ph.D. in psychology helps immensely. I can read you like an open book."
"Well, am I going to be able to move up in the organization? I'd do anything to get even with Michelle. I hate her with a passion you would find difficult to believe after what she's done to me."
"Come now, Miss LaFarge. That's a natural reaction. Guardians are not paid to be liked. But I think you should have few complaints. I did stop her from using the whip to discipline you."
"And did you order her to totally degrade me!" Mindy's green eyes flared with radioactive intensity. "Did you tell her to have that filthy animal crawl all over me and that disgusting man piss on me?"
Dr. Hunt tented his fingers and peered over the tops. "Keep talking." He appeared interested in what Mindy had to say.
"And how about taking pictures of me being fucked by that dog? Did you enjoy watching? Or were you outside the green door with your ear pressed against it so you could hear? I didn't mind the rest of the patrons, even that white-haired bitch who damned near ripped out my cunt, but Laurence and his dog really got to me."
When Mindy fell quiet from lack of breath. Dr. Hunt slowly said, "I do not know of a person named Laurence. True, we have the kennel rooms, but those are reserved for special patrons. I think it might be instructive to speak briefly with Michelle on this matter." He reached over and pressed a button on his desk.
"Wyatt, bring Michelle here. Class II."
After the brief and cryptic message, he simply rocked back in his large executive chair and waited.
In a few minutes, the butler and Michelle came into the office. Mindy noticed Michelle did not carry her whip and that the butler had his jacket unbuttoned, his left hand resting lightly on the lapel.
Michelle went absolutely white when she saw Mindy. The woman's mouth opened, then closed with a snap.
Dr. Hunt said, his voice quiet yet menacing, "Michelle, I'd like you to meet… Miss LaFarge." The formality was not lost on either Mindy or the leather-clad woman.
"I understand that the kennel room was recently used by a patron named Laurence. My records indicate no such patron. And the kennel room has not been used for over a month. In addition, the revenue from your wing does not reflect such use." Dr. Hunt casually flicked an ash from his cigarette into an ashtray before continuing. "I also understand there are some films of this unauthorized encounter."
"Please, Dr. Hunt, I can explain! She hates me! It's all a lie! A giant lie she concocted to get me in trouble. There's no film because none of it ever happened!"
Jet-black eyes studied Michelle for a moment. Then Dr. Hunt said, "There is no way Miss LaFarge could have known of the kennel room if she'd never been there. And, you probably didn't realize this, but I keep video-tape records of everything in certain rooms."
If possible, Michelle blanched to a whiter shade of pale.
"This man Laurence did not pay, did he? Really, Michelle, you know the penalty for things like this. He used a special room and didn't pay. You allowed one of the inmates knowledge of our activities. You allowed the use of one of our inmates. To watch." A slight lift of a bushy black eyebrow was all the sign Dr. Hunt made.
Michelle, in blind panic, spun and grabbed at Wyatt to shove him out of the way. At the slight indication from his employer, the butler had drawn the compact pistol nestled under his arm. A Walther PPK S-9 was aimed directly at Michelle's head. Wyatt quietly said, "I have it loaded with Parabellums."
Michelle turned back and started to say something in her defense, saw the look on Dr. Hunt's face, then seemed to wilt.
Dr. Hunt simply said, "Put her with Kasca."
Michelle's eyes widened in horror and she screamed, but Wyatt had her out of the room and down the hall in an instant.
Mindy looked perplexed. "Kasca?"
Dr. Hunt shrugged, then said, "One of the nastier punishments we have at The Institute. Kasca is a quite demented Hungarian. I suspect Michelle might last several days, perhaps even a week before she leaves us."
"But you pose a problem for me. Inmates normally remain inmates. They are not allowed to move up in the administrative sectors of The Institute. But you've shown initiative and daring, and you were extremely successful during your tenure as inmate. I think that might qualify you to fill a vacancy that recently opened in our staff but it would have to be on a limited basis to start. You would have to show ability in this position before I could feel confident in giving you more freedom."
Mindy considered. It was obviously Michelle's job he was referring to; "What sort of limitations?"
Dr. Hunt's eyes roamed her body, then came back to her green green eyes. "You fulfill the role of guardian with all the pay and privileges save one. You would not be allowed to leave the grounds. Normally, the guardians are allowed ten days a month off to do as they please. You would have the time but simply would not be permitted to leave. That's not as bad as it might sound, however. There are several complete libraries on the grounds. In addition to other recreations."
"Pay?" Mindy didn't care but was curious.
"Same as Michelle since you will be doing her job. Thirty thousand a year as long as there are no complaints."
"Could I take a few of the patrons myself?" Mindy thought of the professor and Rocky, and began to feel the familiar pangs of lust growing inside her.
"As you please. It is your job to keep the patrons happy. Period. You are paid well for it, and in return we expect no mistakes or indiscretions. You'll be responsible for twenty-five inmates. Or rather, twenty-four until we can repair one cell wall and replace the inmate."
Mindy smiled radiantly. "I accept."
Dr. Hunt shook his head. "I said I would consider you for the post. I want to interview you further." He reached down to his desk and punched another button. A hidden panel silently slipped aside in the wall.
"Through there, please."
Mindy stood, her knees shaking slightly, but she forced herself to confidently walk into the dark space that had been revealed. Dr. Hunt followed close behind her.
He reached over and touched a light switch. Revealed in the soft, romantic light was the most sumptuous bedroom suite Mindy had ever seen. The ceiling was mirrored, as were two walls. The bed was covered with an ermine bedspread that she couldn't resist feeling.
"Oooohhh, this is soooo sooooft!" she exclaimed. In the minor she saw Dr. Hunt slipping out of his jacket.
He simply said, "Put this on. And call me Mike," as he tossed her a fur stole. Mindy never hesitated. She slid out of her clothing in record time and put the mink stole around her neck. The sensuous feel of the fur was indescribable. She purred like a contented feline as she rubbed the material against her naked skin.
Mike caught her up and carried her down to the broad expanse of fur. His mouth searched for hers, found it, and they slowly melted together in a long, passionate kiss. The soft, furry surface under Mindy activated the girl's most buried reserves of sexual energy. Mindy kissed her boss as she had never before kissed anyone.
Their tongues slowly twined and dueled, fluttering in and out of each other's mouths in mock fucking motions. Mike's hands roved over the body he had been eyeing, and found it delectable, a collector's edition. Fingers tweaked irresistibly probing nipples, nipples red and fiery with blood pumping lustfully into them. The fur pressed tightly between theft bodies added a new dimension to the lovemaking for Mindy.
The slightest move was heaven. Not slippery, sweaty bare skin on skin but down-soft fur gently and lovingly caressing her body, triggering pleasure centers throughout her being.
And Mike's expert handling was turning her on top. She had vowed she would never again feel like fucking. He was rapidly putting this silly pledge to the lie. She wanted nothing more than his huge, pulsating cock to be buried far up inside her cunt! The pair rolled over and over on the furred mattress, fondling and caressing until Mindy's breath came in hard, rapid bursts.
"Please, Mike. Pleasssse fuuuck meee!" she moaned, through tightly clenched lips.
Mike's balls had tightened and compressed until he felt the churning and boiling inside his scrotum. He was good at his work; he enjoyed fucking, but this incredibly sexy, hot chick had turned him on like so few had in the past. His quivering rod was firmly held in her long, hot, perspiring fingers. Mindy inexorably dragged his tool towards her beckoning cunt which was flowing and gushing with wanton disregard for the expensive material underneath her.
Mike allowed her to guide his dick to her gash but once the sensitive cockhead touched her cuntlips, he took over. With a precision born of long practice, his rod entered her cunt in a powerful, swift stroke that wrenched a shriek of total carnal abandon from the girl's lips.
The man felt her cunt contract on his dong, squeezing it as if he had thrust it into a blazing-hot oven, a vise tightening on his shaft with undeniable lust. Mike slid his chest over the fur piece between them and gloried in the softness of the fur, the tingling feeling it generated in his body.
Then he lost himself in the feel of the searing cunt around his cock. The pace of his fucking was gradual at first; then he slowly built up the tempo until Mindy was constantly screaming, "Fuuck meee! Fuuuck meeee!"
Orgasm seized the girl in a velvet grip of physical and emotional release, and her cunt walls contracted on the man's long rod. Mike gasped, then began an almost mindless stroking in and out of Mindy's convulsing twat.
In a few brief seconds, his jizz exploded in her cunt and, together, their universe became fur and undiluted delights of the flesh such as few ever are privileged to experience.
Afterwards, lying beside her boss, Mindy asked, "Mike? Do I get the job? Was the interview satisfactory?"