Bob forced a smile and tried to sound affable when he met Allen at the door.
"Hello, come in."
Gwen, her battered frame hunkered under a knee-length raincoat, smiled and followed her husband inside, nodding hello to Bob and hurrying to sit down.
"Say, I'm sorry about losing my temper last weekend. Had a terrible week, Allen. You know how those things go."
"Yeah," Allen said, a bland smile on his face. "We all have our ups and downs."
"Sit down, Sybil will be out in a minute. She's fixing her hair. Want a drink?"
"Yeah. How about you, Gwen?"
"No, thank you."
Bob went to the bar and Allen stood, sucking in deep breaths of air and waiting. He could feel the tension in the air, the blood rushing through his veins, his muscles quivering in anticipation. A hollow feeling coursed through him and he thought of crouching inside the helicopter, ready to leap to the ground as it whirred down into the landing zone.
Gwen picked at her fingers and looked around the room. It seemed foreign to her, unreal. She had expected the warm comfort of home when she walked in the door. She expected things to be as they had in the past, a soothing love-rife warmth to wrap her mind in its lulling arms and wash away the fear and anticipation she had felt the last week with Allen. But it was different. It was cold and frightening.
"You look gloomy." Bob handed the drink to Allen and sat next to Gwen. "What's the matter, don't you love us any more?"
He laughed, alone, looking at Gwen's jumpy eyes.
She smiled, trying to feel the experience she had thrived on with them for such a long time.
"Just tired. Very tired."
"We'll fix that up," Bob said gleefully. "Remember that hypnotist, Largo? We've invited him over. We're going to cheer you up." He reached out and patted Gwen's leg.
A slow, crawling clamminess inched up her back as Bob's hand touched her. The feeling startled her and her eyes grew wide, her mind puzzled. It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was supposed to be good, warm, exciting.
"Here she is."
Sybil stepped into the room, her hands folded behind her, her ever-present cat-and-mouse grin stretched thin across her sensual face. Her eyes glinted as she raised the revolver up and pointed it at Bob.
"Hello everyone."
Bob laughed and set his drink down. "Look at Sybil, always playing around." He rose and stepped toward her. A loud ratcheting click resonated through the silent room as she pulled the revolver's hammer back.
"I'm not joking, Bob," she said coolly. "It's loaded and if you don't do as I say, I'll kill you right here."
"Come on, Sybil, don't play around." Bob's voice was stern, his eyes narrowed as he looked at Allen who moved up behind him.
"Grab him, Allen."
Allen quickly slipped his arms behind Bob and wrestled him to the floor with a full nelson.
"Sybil?"
She kicked out at him, driving her pointed shoe into his chin.
"You sniveling bastard," Sybil snarled. "Look at you. You're half a man. Living off me like a leech, afraid to hit me, afraid to share the pain of love."
Allen lifted him to his knees and Sybil drove her foot into his stomach. Bob heaved over and gagged.
"Don't move, bitch." Sybil swung the gun toward Gwen, who was inching away from the scene. "Or I'll put a bullet through that lovely chest of yours."
Gwen froze, unable to comprehend the situation.
"Come here, Gwen, dear," Sybil said, waving the gun in a circle.
Slowly, Gwen walked toward her.
"You see, dear, you aren't woman enough for your husband, and my husband isn't man enough for me. So we figure that you two ought to make a very loving pair." She licked her lips and looked down at Bob's aghast face.
"Take him into the bedroom, Allen."
Allen grabbed Bob's arm and twisted it behind his back.
"Get in there." He shoved Bob ahead of him, driving rabbit punches into the man's neck.
"Follow them, Gwen, dear."
Sybil leveled the gun at Gwen's waist and watched her as she stepped timidly into the bedroom.
"Did you bring the rope, Allen?"
"Yes."
"Tie him."
Bob tried to wrestle free of Allen's vise-like grip. Allen's fist flew out and smashed the man in the jaw, dazing him. He tied the limp figure's arms and legs to the bed.
"Get me a knife," he hissed.
"No blood," Sybil said. "No blood."
"Just to tease him," Allen moaned, grabbing the man by the face and shaking his head. "Just to tease him."
"Watch her."
Sybil backed out of the room.
"Take your clothes off, cunt," Allen shouted, leering at his wife. "Take your clothes off like you did with all the other men while I was away."
"Allen, stop. This is mad. They've done something terrible to us. Please Allen?"
He slapped her across the face, sending her sprawling to the floor.
"Very good," Sybil said, handing Allen the knife. "But don't put too many marks on her. It has to look good. Out in the pool when we're through."
"She's a rotten bitch, just like you said, Sybil. I did just what you said. I got the men. They fucked her and she liked it. She doesn't love me and she doesn't love you. I heard what she said. She said she didn't love you. She said that."
"Good. Good." Sybil's voice was calm. "Undress her and him."
His hands shaking with anger, Allen grabbed his wife by the hair and shoved the knife under the top of her dress. He pulled, slicing the material down the front.
"Primitive, but effective," Sybil said, primping her hair with one hand and holding the gun on Bob with the other. "I'm going to like you, Allen. I'm going to like you a lot."
Bob stirred on the bed, looking at the three figures below him.
"Allen. She'll dump you. She'll find someone else who can give her what you can't. She's a beast. Allen, for God's sake, listen to me. She'll get tired of you. She'll turn you into putty…"
"Hit him, Allen," Sybil commanded.
Allen jumped up and smashed a fist into Bob's stomach.
"Throw the girl on him. Let's watch them fuck for the last time." As she spoke, Sybil unbuttoned the top of her blouse and pressed her fingers around her hot breasts, squeezing the nipples until they were long and hard.
"Suck his cock," Allen spat. "Suck his cock until it's hard."
He shoved Gwen's face down between Bob's legs.
"Take his trousers off, Allen, dear," Sybil said, leaning against the wall and pressing her fingers harshly against her breast. "That always helps."
"You take them off, bitch," he yelled in Gwen's ears, guiding her hands up to Bob's belt.
Fumbling, her fingers pulled at the zipper and metal catch, peeling back Bob's trousers and exposing his white underwear.
"Down to his knees," Allen yelled. "Pull them down to his knees."
Shaking, Gwen followed her husband's orders as she felt the tip of the butcher knife jab sharply into her back.
"Allen, stop. Get hold of yourself. This is mad. Mad." She tried to whisper low, so Sybil wouldn't hear. No longer did she love the woman, no longer did she desire to be touched by her. It was gone. It was all gone, washed from her mind. "She's using you," Gwen said with a quaking voice. "She's using you."
Allen laughed and pressed the knife harder against her back.
"Liar," he yelled, snapping his teeth at her neck and biting her flesh viciously. "You're a cubit. A dirty whore."
"Very good, Allen. Very good."
Sybil shrugged out of her blouse and threw it to the floor. She laid the gun down and stepped out of her capris, her massive breasts dangling seductively as she pulled one foot and then the other out of her silk panties.
"Look at our bodies, Allen. Look at your wife's body and mine."
Sybil turned slowly, thrusting out her chest so her large breasts stood proudly, so her buttocks curved out and her waist nipped in. Her skin was creamy and smooth, without a blemish. From the manipulations of her hands, her nipples stood out in relief, a deep, lively red. She cocked one leg on the edge of the bed and pulled the lips of her vagina apart, exposing the red, raw, inviting gash to Allen's thirsty eyes.
"Now look at your wife's body and tell me which one is worth killing for."
Gwen's body was bruised and trembling. Her small structure made her breasts look like toys perched on her chest, her ass, dotted with black and blue marks, was pale and pasty. Her eyes looked tired and dark rings haunted the skin beneath them.
"My wife's a dirty slut. I hate her."
Sybil laughed and pressed her tits against Allen's back.
"Make her suck his cock," she said, nibbling on Allen's ear. "Make her fuck my husband."
"Get down." He shoved Gwen's mouth over Bob's flaccid prick. "Open it and suck, you scab."
The nightmare came to life in Gwen's mind. She saw it all, in all its hideous perverted forms. They were puppets, manipulated by Sybil, dancing and laughing as Sybil commanded. She had never loved her, never.
"Suck!"
She felt Bob's penis sliding around her closed mouth. Slowly, she opened her mouth and felt the limp organ creep between her lips as Allen ground her face down harder and harder.
Gwen knew what they had made of her. They had primed her to feel what she was feeling now, conditioned her to shiver at the touch of a man's penis, to want him no matter what he looked like, no matter how strong the fear. As she tasted Bob's unconscious penis, she knew she couldn't fight them. Her body began to ache, her loins began to burn as she sucked the shaft in, gulping at the head of the rod, milking it with her mouth.
Bob stirred under her. She heard him groan and felt his cock begin to stiffen. She sucked harder, oblivious of the threat that lurked behind her, caring nothing about the future, caring nothing about anything but the penis in her mouth and the fiery sensation building in her groin. She didn't care any more. About anything but sex and flesh. The satisfying, thirst-quenching aroma of flesh.
"He's addicted too," Sybil cooed, rubbing her breasts along Allen's neck, sliding her slit up and down his sides as she looked at Gwen sucking Bob's cock over Allen's shoulder. "He'll get hard. He'll get hard."
Bob pulled at the bonds that held him prisoner on the bed. He tried to keep his mind from the lips that nipped and drew his cock into its mouth. It felt like thousands of tiny fish-teeth gnawing at him, urging him to stiffen with excitement and leak out the life-juice.
His cock became harder and harder as he looked at Sybil's bewitched face. She was taunting him, sticking out her tongue and licking it across her lips. Rubbing her breasts against Allen's neck, shoving the nipples into his ear.
Gwen mouthed the pole, making loud slurping sounds as she pulled her head up and drew the bulbous head of the penis out of her mouth, only to jerk it rapidly and plunge her lips back over it to repeat the process.
"Enough," Sybil called, pulling Gwen's head up by the hair. "Mount her on him, Allen."
Allen lifted Gwen away from the stiff, flopping prick, prying her hands which gripped tenaciously around his staff until she was free of the rod. He raised her above Bob while Sybil pulled her husband's shaft up and aimed it into Gwen's wet cunt.
"Drop her."
Gwen shut her eyes as she felt Bob's hard cock impale her. Sybil and Allen jerked her up and down over the pole, laughing and spitting obscenities as they pumped her up and down.
Her cunt muscles gripped Bob's flesh bar, squeezing it as her fingers had when she sucked him. Her hands rubbed against her breasts, pulling at the nipples and rolling them between her thumb and forefinger.
"God! God!" she screamed, throwing back her head and feeling the hands shove her down until the pain of Bob's bent penis buckling against the head of her cervix made her cry out in ecstatic agony.
"Faster. Faster," Sybil chanted, her breath coming quickly. "Make them fuck faster."
"Yes. Faster. Faster." Allen chimed to his mistress's urgings and jerked Gwen's form forcefully.
Gwen opened her eyes and saw Bob's face. It vas white and twisted, hardening like cement before her eyes. She felt herself lilting, swaying as her orgasm tumbled through her, exploding out over his cock-bar and washing its turgid head with the creamy, frothing juices of her passion. He grunted and lurched beneath her, spasming his come into her, washing the walls of her snatch with the white, geysering sperm.
"One more lunge," Sybil grunted, lifting Gwen and dropping her over the cock.
Bob howled, his fists knotting into rock-hard balls. Gwen moaned, sinking down over his prick and feeling the last electric shocks of her orgasm pulse through her.
The hands holding her released their grip and she fell limply onto Bob's heaving chest, feeling his still-hard prick bend as she pressed against him.
"Make him suck out the juice," Allen growled. "Make him suck out the juice."
Gwen felt Allen's rough hands lift her off the dong and slide her up to Bob's face. He took her legs and spraddled them beside Bob's neck and pushed her wet cunt over the man's mouth.
Bob squirmed under her as Allen cursed and shoved Gwen down harder and harder, suffocating him.
"Taste the whore's mouth. Taste it you bastard."
Bob's body thrashed frantically as the minutes ticked by. Gwen cried as she felt his teeth biting at her; his mouth opening wide, trying to gasp a breath of air.
"Die, fucker. Die!" Allen rasped.
"Don't kill him?" Sybil yelled. "Not yet. In the pool."
"He's a fucker. A dirty fucker." Allen lashed his hand back and smashed his fist against Sybil's face as she tugged at him to release the strangling vagina from Bob's face. She fell back on the floor, out cold.
Sweat ran off Gwen's face. Her hands felt cold, lifeless. Her throat dry.
"Allen, stop. You're killing him. Allen!"
"Whore. Viet Cong whore. I remember you, you bitch. You tried to kill me. You sat on my face."
His voice was broken, his hands like pliers pinching and pressing Gwen's shoulders down.
Bob no longer stirred beneath her. His body was limp and lifeless. The teeth didn't bite. The mouth didn't move.
"Die. Die!" Allen cried, shoving Gwen down harder and harder. "Die! Die!"
"Allen," she sobbed. "You killed him. You killed him."
"Good. He's one of them. He shot the mortars. I know he did. And you're one too. You're one of them. You killed Monroe. You slit his throat."
Gwen felt the knife press against her throat.
"I'm going to fuck you, you whore. I'm going to fuck you in the ass like I should all your cookie friends. Then I'm going to kill you, cut your throat."
He pushed her down. Her gnawed vagina slipped off Bob's pale face. His mouth was open, his eyes staring up at the ceiling.
Gwen screamed.
"Nobody can help you, bitch." He laughed insanely, drawing the knife across her throat, slitting the skin and making the blood dribble slowly down her chest.
"Raise your ass up, bitch. Raise it."
He pulled her waist up and pushed her head down into the bedspread near Bob's dead face. Jabbing at her anus with his cock, he began to probe inside her, pushing his girthy cock into her asshole and calling her names.
"Bitch. Viet Cong gutter tramp!"
He drew the knife again and again across her back, making razor-thin slices that seeped full of blood and bathed her back with a thin slimy sheet.
Gwen couldn't feel the cock jammed into her ass or the hot, searing pain of the knife making its cuts on her back. She only felt an overpowering sickness in her stomach as she looked into Bob's rigid face.
"Stop. Stop! What are you doing. Stop. It's all wrong. You're spoiling everything."
Sybil weaved to her feet, her hands pressed against her face as she saw the dead form of her husband and the bloody mass of flesh that Allen was hunching into.
"Stop."
She picked up the gun and pulled the trigger. The explosion rang through Allen's mind, ripping back the thin layer of thoughts that had hidden his secret. The bullet smashed into the wall above his head.
"You!" He swung around, pushing Gwen off the bed and onto the floor.
"You! You're one too. You're a fucking Viet Cong spy."
He lunged out and hit Sybil in the stomach, knocking the gun from her hand. He hit her again and again across the face and then lifted her on the bed, placing her on top of Bob and jacked up her ass.
"You!"
His hands closed around the knife and he began to stab at her ass with his cock, cursing and shouting.
"Whore! Communist pig!"
Gwen saw the knife rise and fall, felt the blood spewing out and raining on her body. She crawled along the rug, looking back over her shoulder at her husband's form hunkered over Sybil's.
Her breasts burned as they scraped along the rug out into the hallway, away from the screams and hellish laughter, away from the blood that flew against the walls and soaked into the mattress.
She cried as she felt her nipples harden and reached down, madly squeezing them and wiping the blood away from her eyes.
She stumbled to her feet, her face flushed with fear and the growing, sickening passion. Nothing mattered to her in the world, nothing but the burning, sloughing wave of desire that swelled in her loins and begged to be dashed out of womb.
Gwen threw the front door open, stuffed her fingers deeply in her hole and ran down the street crying.
"Cock? Someone give me cock? Someone fuck me?"
The children playing on the corner looked up curiously at the bloody figure staggering their way, yelling words they didn't understand, hitting herself with her fists and reaching out for them.