Boss Carl's back room was the most lush and luxurious that Lenny had ever seen. It combined the attributes of a bedroom and office, containing a large double bed and a huge walnut desk.
On the desk, Lenny was surprised to see a complicated set of telephones… including a red phone marked, "hot-line".
But that was not the object of her visit… her purpose was to obtain an interview for the position he had advertised. The ad had not specified precisely what he had in mind, so she asked him that question first of all.
"What, precisely, would be my duties?"
A low, threatening laugh escaped from Boss Carl's lips. He sat heavily into the swivel chair behind his desk and held a pencil in his large, hairy hands. For several seconds, his eyes seemed to be transfixed by the tiny pencil. Then he broke it violently in two.
"Time," he said.
"Time?"
"There will be time for those questions later… the first order of business, my little princess, is to derive your own suitability for the job."
Something about his voice, its basso timbre making the very walls shake, made Lenny excessively nervous. Why, she thought to herself, couldn't he tell her what her duties might be?
He stood suddenly and walked to a corner of his desk. His overcoat had somehow become unbuttoned during their conversation and now flopped open, revealing his burly prick where it hung between his massive, hairy thighs. His face was cracked by a meaningful leer.
"Before we begin to discuss terms," he rumbled, "we must see how you perform."
She shrank away from him, desiring only to escape from this impending and brutal attack. The rumors about his sexual prowess were really common knowledge. In every beauty parlor in every mid-town office, the word had long ago been spread that he was the most vicious and insatiable of men.
With a shudder, Lenny remembered how she had once boasted of being enough woman to completely wear even Boss Carl out. She had never dreamed, of course, that she would be put to the test!
"Well?" there was a hint of deprecation in his voice, as though he were insinuating that Lenny were not up to this sort of activity.
"I've… I've never had any complaints."
"I like to check over every piece of merchandise myself…"
The thought suddenly struck Lenny, if she were to get the job, if she were to become the woman whom this brute of a man would turn into the world's biggest star; then she would have to handle every situation with absolute poise.
It was suddenly obvious to the shapely young blonde that this too was a test.
"I usually receive some form of remuneration…" she said coldly, backing away from the advancing brute.
"I think that these circumstances are a bit different, Miss Morgan," he replied. "Perhaps we can look on this as a preliminary audition."
"I am afraid that I cannot perform for you without an advance… for my own professional protection, you understand."
Boss Carl stopped in his tracks. This woman was different! So, he thought grimly to himself, she was parrying his every attack. In that case, he decided, he might as well move on with all possible haste. He pulled a thick wallet from his trenchcoat pocket and produced a one-hundred dollar bill.
"Will this be sufficient?" he asked gruffly.
"Five-hundred," she snapped coldly.
Boss Carl was genuinely impressed. He knew that a cheap street whore would have grasped the money eagerly, ramming it down her blouse before anyone would have the chance to snatch it away from her. A more expensive slut would have demanded two or even three-hundred… but only a woman with truly high professional standards would have had the gall to ask him for five-hundred. He was slightly stung and greatly pleased.
Somewhat reluctantly, Boss Carl dipped into his wallet once more and produced four more one-hundred dollar bills. He tossed them on the floor before Lenny's feet.
"Hand them to me!" she demanded.
He bent and procured the greenbacks, with a humble grin, and pressed them into her waiting hand.
"Now," Lenny pronounced, "you may undress me if you wish."
He grinned and began to work at the buttons of her sweater; finally, with great impatient coughings and gaspings he pulled it off over her head. There was something in the tousle of her blonde hair that excited the animal in him. He ripped her bra from her breasts viciously, cupping one in his hand. He stared for a moment, as though pondering what to do next.
"You…" Lenny smiled, "are not living up to your reputation."
He looked into her eyes with a surprisingly tender grin, then bent to kiss the roundness of her bosom. She thrilled at his gentle touch; she had expected nothing like this at all.
As he fondled and nibbled at her breasts, his other hand slid down to release the fastener of her mini-skirt. It dropped to the floor with a rustling sound. Then his great hairy finger hooked over the waistband of her panties. With a deft flick of the wrist he pulled them down over her knees.
"Kick 'em off," he barked.
She kicked them off.
With a proud smirk, Lenny arched her back, thrusting her hips toward her lover's loins. He responded as though connected to her desire by some magical, golden cord. His great stiff cock thrust against her furry cunt. It prodded the lips, probing for the hot little knob that was her clitoris…
"… the bed…" in the transport of his desire, Boss Carl was barely able to speak. In his wild, exotic life he had never seen such a beautiful, perfect body.
"Your skin…" he marveled. "It's so perfect, so soft and smooth…"
She stretched her body out on the crisp sheets and crooned, "Tell me more, baby."
"Your breasts," he moaned, "they're colossal, and shaped like golden pears…" She had not expected any such tenderness from this magnate of erotica. He kissed her passionately yet gently, covering every inch of her delectable body. His lips brushed lightly along the curve of her neck and moved down to bite and hickey at the soft swell of her tummy. His tongue probed into her elongated navel.
"More!" she cried.
"More, more!" he answered in a joyous, coarse voice.
His lips found the lips of her womanhood then, kissing her cunt with deep and meaningful passion. Lenny felt a hot wave of desire sweep up the length of her body. No one had made love to her with such fierce restraint before… she felt as if he might explode into an uncontrollable animal at any moment. Indeed, this was the skill of the famous Boss Carl; he knew precisely what to hold back and what to force onto a woman. His mouth tested the extent of her desire then pushed it to and beyond its own limits.
"Oh!" she screamed, "Give me more, kiss me there! Suck on me! Suck! Suck!"
He made peculiar grunting sounds as he worked at her open lips of desire, his head bobbed up and down between the soft, silky flesh of her thighs.
"I can't stand anymore!" she roared out, "I can't stand it! Screw me Carl! Screw me!"
His tone became demanding. "Boss!" he hissed into her cunt, stirring the female fluids to a broiling torrent of raw need, "Call me Boss, baby!"
"B… Boss… Boss!" she crooned, "Please screw me, Boss!"
He laughed then, a strange hollow laugh that echoed and reechoed throughout the room. With a fantastic, athletic lunge, he arched his body up over her prone loveliness and sank his magnificent cock deeply into her open cunt.
The sensation was marvelous; Lenny felt as though a huge cannon had gone off inside her vulva. She strained and arched against it. Driving her hips up against the hard muscular flesh that ravished her so delightfully.
"Oh!" she cried out, "It's beautiful… it's so groovy! Uh! Uh!"
Now Carl was hunching his loins up into her with a jackhammer force, urging her and smashing her to the very edge of climax.
Then, with a small cry and a great raking of her fingernails across the hard, muscular back, Lenny Morgan came extravagantly. Her woman fluids rushed and poured from the opening between her long, slender legs. The flesh of her thighs glistened with the consummation.
Grunting rhythmically, Boss Carl drove his great prick into her with spurts of orgasm. Lenny could feel the hot liquid splashing into her, mixing with her own juices to form a witch's brew of satisfied lust.
"That," Lenny said after she had caught her breath, "That was just divine…"
Boss Carl growled something about the second test and scooped up his trenchcoat. He wrapped it around his body like a dressing gown and then walked to the great walnut desk. He was making some kind of notation on the pad.
"Well, lover," she said hoarsely, "do I pass the test?"
"Dynamite!" he snarled in genuine appreciation of her talents. "But that was just the first test…"
This was the premiere showing of his latest picture, Men Among Menageries. He had hated the picture, with the exception of the animals involved… he loved animals, with the soft fur and large, beguiling eyes.
He directed his driver to proceed to the usual spot. The usual spot in this case was the Phylogem Club.
Lyle Montagne was typical of the extraordinarily wealthy and influential customers who frequented Boss Carl's exotic club. He enjoyed the privacy, the lush and extravagant decor… and most of all – the extraordinary entertainment.
This entertainment usually included performances by the most exceptionally beautiful women with various animals and birds. "Love-Dances" the billing described them – and they were indeed the most brilliant displays of exotic passion that could be found anywhere in the country.
This evening, the maitre d' ushered him to a corner table and instructed him that the powerful proprietor wished a few words with him.
"Certainly," the handsome actor replied. "Bring him to the table please… and order some champagne cocktails for both of us."
"I believe sir," the waiter responded respectfully, "that he wishes to introduce you to a young lady…"
"So…" Lyle lit a cigarette and shook the match out vigorously, "… that's it, eh? Another candidate. Well, don't just stand there, man, bring cocktails for three."
"Yes sir," the waiter disappeared quickly.
In a moment the burly Boss Carl appeared in his perpetual trenchcoat and bare feet. With him, Lyle noted, was one of the most beautiful women that he had ever seen. She was tall and voluptuously built, with long blonde hair and large blue eyes.
"May I present Miss Morgan… Miss Morgan, Mister Lyle Montagne," Boss Carl growled politely.
Lenny could believe neither her ears nor her eyes. She had seen the tall, handsome Montagne in almost every picture he had ever made. He was famous! It seemed like something out of a fairy tale, that she should be sitting at the same table with one of the country's biggest stars.
"Miss Morgan," Montagne turned on his famous charm. "I am very glad to meet you… you are indeed beautiful."
"Yeah," Boss Carl grumbled in assent. "She makes it in that department all right. Have you grunted yet, Lyle?"
"I had something to eat before the screening, thanks."
Lenny was impressed by the casual banter between the two men. Boss Carl certainly got around in the important circles all right.
"Well," Lyle said cheerfully, "when do we give our lovely candidate the final test?"
Boss Carl nodded toward the stage, upon which could be seen a bustle of activities. Grips were running here and there, setting up some large and rather peculiar-looking devices. Lenny had never seen anything like them before.
"Let's see how she reacts to the show, first…" Boss Carl murmured. "Maybe she won't want the job so damned much after that, eh Lyle?"
Lyle grinned, "I don't know… I think it's really quite a beautiful spectacle."
Lenny looked from one face to the other, searching for a clue to the events that were about to unfold. They were, however, blank and unrevealing. She turned instead toward the stage. Whatever it was, it must be something special, she thought, because the audience was pretty high-class. It was not uncommon to find senators and politicians, well-known and powerful businessmen, and even more famous figures in the audience. Some of them wore masks in order to keep their identities secret.
The band struck up a stripper rhythm; the heavy beat churning into Lenny's heart; it was her kind of music. She tapped her fingers on the table and wiggled her shoulders slightly. She herself was an exotic dancer by trade, and she loved the sound of the exotic music…
She glanced at Boss Carl; he was staring intently at the left wings… waiting, she supposed for the star to appear.
It was a shock to Lenny to see a horse led onto the stage. It was a beautiful white stallion, with gold ribbons in its long flowing mane.
What, she wondered anxiously, did the horse have to do with the performance? A shudder of desire went through her body… she remembered some of her childhood experiences. For Lenny Morgan, the sophisticated dancer and five-hundred dollar whore, had grown up on a farm in Ohio. She thought about the horse that she had ridden as a little girl, and the warm, sensual feeling she had had for him…
Boss Carl was watching her face. Lyle Montagne was watching her face. She did not realize it, but Lenny Morgan was undergoing another important test.
These two impresarios of the exotic arts were studying her every gesture… trying to determine her deepest, most secret reactions to the performance that was beginning to unfold before her waiting eyes. If she demonstrated interest, she might have a chance for the job. If she demonstrated enthusiasm, then she had only one more test to pass.
In her smooth, sensual loins, Lenny Morgan felt a hot boiling passion grow. She loved the gigantic animal, with its powerful, graceful movements. It reminded her so of old Charley – the horse of her farmgirl childhood.
Next, a young redhead came out onto the stage; she was well built and quite a smooth dancer. Lenny eyed her with something akin to jealousy. She knew that she could do better.
The redhead danced around the animal, which was held by two stalwart attendants in black turtlenecks. She removed the long green veil that draped her body and threw it across the animal's back.
The drumbeat increased in tempo, driving relentlessly toward some hidden climax. The girl now wore only a pair of sequined green panties and green pasties on her bosom. Lenny noted that the girl was well endowed in that area, her breasts were large and firm with flawlessly smooth skin.
The girl began to fondle the animal's muzzle, feeding him sugar and whispering seductively into his car. With a gay laugh and thrusting of her breasts, she permitted the horse to lap the pasties away.
The woman was completely naked from the waist up.
Lenny thought to herself that the pasties must have been made of sugar or something – it was a clever idea. But she barely believed her eyes when the girl ripped off her panties and began to toy frankly with her furry cunt. The juices flowed readily, flowing, flowing until her thighs glistened brilliantly under the bright lights. Lenny had never been allowed to do anything like this in the clubs where she had worked. They would have been busted for sure, she thought.
She looked around the room nervously.
"It's all right," Boss Carl said, as though reading her mind, "the cops never come here – except as customers."
Lenny gave a low whistle; this guy sure had things set up! He must know, she thought, he must know everybody!
Now the girl on the stage was helping the handlers to arrange the equipment, which consisted of a large leather harness and some supports. They strapped the harness around the horse's back, so that it hung loosely below the beast's belly.
Lenny knew for sure, now. This was what she was being interviewed for. The thought, rather than repulsing her, was extremely exciting.
The girl on the stage climbed under the horse and tested the harnessing… ostensibly to see if they would hold her weight, but Lenny knew that it was just a matter of teasing the audience – getting their interest aroused to the keenest possible edge.
But the girl did not slip her lithe and seductive body into the straps immediately. Instead she knelt and began to play with the gigantic genitalia of the animal.
The redhead first toyed with the gargantuan balls, rolling them tenderly in her palms. The horse whinnied and pawed the stage-floor restlessly. He was becoming aroused.
Lenny wondered for a moment whether or not the animal truly enjoyed it… then she remembered the horse of her girlhood, Charley. Yes, she thought, there could be no doubt that the animal was having a hell of a good time.
Now the woman took the horse's cock into her mouth. It was a stretch, but she did it, sucking vigorously on the huge prickhead, lapping and kissing it passionately.
Big Carl was barely watching the show… he had seen it all a thousand times. What he was interested in was the reaction of the attractive blonde sitting between him and Lyle Montagne. This was an important test, indeed.
He grinned, for he saw the wetness at the corner of Lenny's mouth. He saw the way she rubbed her thighs together and ran her tongue impulsively round and round her full, red lips.
Boss Carl and Montagne exchanged pleased and meaningful glances.
But Lenny was too busy… her eyes were held by the strange act being performed on the stage as though hypnotized. The jealousy within her grew and grew… that was a mighty big piece of masculinity that the redhead was stroking in preparation. Lenny wanted some of that hard, swollen tool herself.
Now the woman slipped backward into the leather sling. She was suspended there under the stallion's belly. With a powerful lunge, she rammed her open cunt onto the huge prick. Her mouth opened and a long, passionate scream mixed with the strident music.
Lenny felt a surge of wetness between her own thighs. Oblivious to any observers, she shoved her fingers deeply into her own cunt and began to manipulate, to probe her golden need.
Boss Carl noticed this. He reached under the table and under his trenchcoat. With a few strokes he had his own manly staff fully erect and ready. He knew that he could pick up some action from this lovely blonde girl… and action was his business.
Now the girl and animal on the stage were striving against one another with desperate passion.