Lenny Morgan went to the dressing room to clean up after her triumph. For it had been a triumph after all, no one else could have passed that test so well, she thought to herself proudly. Well, she reconsidered, perhaps that dark-skinned gypsy girl, Lenora, she was pretty extraordinary. It was not common that Lenny felt strong sexual urges toward other women. Lenora, the marvelous harem leader, was a brilliant exception. Her dusky flesh with its smooth, blemish-free glow, and her unbelievable sexual appetite, those things combined to arouse both desire and respect in Lenny's usually cautious soul.
Nevertheless, the two women made no advances to each other. Though they bathed together in the gold-gilt tub, neither had the energy to do much more than smile wanly and assist each other in the bathing.
As Lenny rubbed the soap into a lather on Lenora's gently curving flanks, she wondered why Boss Carl hadn't chosen this extraordinary vixen as his star. A certain uneasiness crept into her heart, then. Perhaps there was something more to the role she was going to be asked to play than money and stardom. With a shudder she realized that the task cut out for her might simply be too dangerous to risk the favorite harem girl's safety.
Lenora noticed Lenny's sudden agitation.
"What's the matter doll?" the gypsy woman asked.
"I-I'm sort of wondering now, wondering what he has in mind for me."
"Boss Carl?"
"Yes. It seems sort of frightening now that I've passed the tests. I mean, Lenora, why were the tests so hard? What is it that I have to do?"
Lenora shook her head solemnly. "I don't know baby," she mumbled pensively, "but it must be something mighty big, because if you hadn't passed his test, he was planning to have you, uh, executed."
Lenny Morgan was trembling as she rose from the tub and took a plush towel from the attendant.
Louie entered the bathing area from a side door.
"Hey, leetle sexy one," he called out, "you must come quick, the boss, he wants to see you."
Lenny nodded and tried to pull herself together. It was the sort of fear one has shortly after a near miss on the highway. She had felt almost no fear at all while going through the final test, but now that it was over, she could barely keep from falling in a helpless, trembling heap.
After she had slipped into a sheer robe, Louie ushered her into the basement offices. These were even more plush and important looking than the offices in the Phylogem Club. Lenny stared about her in awe.
The desk was a huge L-shaped affair. It seemed to be made of teakwood polished to a deep glowing brown, almost black. On the short side of the "L" were tiers of telephones, intercoms, and what looked like radio transmitters and receivers. On the long side of the "L" was the usual desk with a velvet blotter, a gold pen set, and a small model of some sort of complicated machine.
To the young and voluptuous blonde, it was like standing in the private office of the President of the United States of America.
Seated in a power-operated swivel chair, Boss Carl wore a clean trench coat and smoked serenely on a thick cigar. The putrid smoke from this cigar wafted towards Lenny as she was given a chair directly in front of the elaborate desk. The odor made her faintly nauseous.
Louie closed the door behind him very carefully, as though he was afraid that someone might try to eavesdrop on their conversation.
For a long moment, Boss Carl sat and stared coldly at the young blonde dancer. Then a huge, happy smile creased his thick, pallid face.
"Baby," he said in genuine respect, "you are really some cookie. I think we're gonna be able to do business."
Despite her previous trepidations, Lenny Morgan was truly flattered at this praise. She had already come to realize that Boss Carl did not throw laurels around carelessly.
"I…" she could barely speak through her still trembling lips, "I'm real glad that you liked my work, but, well, Mr. Boss Carl, I don't really understand what you want me to do. To be really honest with you, I'm getting a bit worried that I may be in over my depth."
Boss Carl laughed his hideous hyena laugh. "Don't sweat it, chickie. You gonna do just fine. The tests were tough because the job is tough. I won't lie to ya about that, but you came through with flying colors and there's no reason why you can't do just as well when the real thing comes up."
"What real thing?"
Boss Carl threw a meaningful glance in Lyle Montagne's direction. Lyle cleared his throat and began to explain the situation in his clear, actor's voice.
"Well, Lenny," he proceeded, "it's a pretty complicated thing to explain. But you have a right to know all the facts before you begin your assignment."
"Assignment?" Lenny interrupted suddenly, "What am I supposed to be? Some kind of a spy or something?"
"Well," Lyle was trying to make his tones as comforting as possible, "in a way that's precisely what you're going to be. You see this machine model here?"
Lenny nodded and stared at the strange device in confusion.
"That machine is called a Xylotrope. It was invented by Masters McClain, president of Xylotropic Industries Incorporated. It is beginning to present a real danger to our vested interests."
Lenny crossed her soft thighs under the sheer dressing robe, "I don't get it, Mr. Montagne."
"You may as well call me Lyle," he said with a twinkle in his eye.
"All right, Lyle," she went on, "but I don't understand what I have to do with this Xenoschalmic industries thing or whatever the hell it is, and I don't see what that stupid little machine has to do with anything."
Lyle chuckled condescendingly, "Of course you don't just right now." He straightened his wide tie and explained, "This little machine is called the Xylotrope, as I said. Its function is sexual. The people at Xylotropic Industries have spent years developing it."
"Fiendish little device," Louie interrupted heatedly, "thees foul leetle sonofabeetch!"
"Yes, well, as you can see," Lyle continued, "we are rather upset by this whole business. You may not know it, but Carl Industries Incorporated, of which the three of us here are the controlling stockholders; Carl Industries Incorporated does the vast bulk of its gross business in the erotic entertainment line. Of course, we have other enterprises that net us a great deal of profit; movies, television, records etc. But far and away the most important product we have to sell is the exclusive and exotic entertainment such as you have seen in the Phylogem Club. It is Masters McClain's plan to crush Boss Carl and his entire company by introducing a machine that will replace the usual performers in this field. Do you follow me so far?"
Lenny nodded weakly. It seemed quite far-fetched to her, but men like Lyle Montagne and Boss Carl did not fool around very much.
"This machine," Lyle pointed now to the model of the Xylotrope on Boss Carl's ornate desk, "this machine is designed to replace the male organ as a stimulant of female sexual excitement."
At this point, Boss Carl picked the small model up and flipped a switch. A distinct whirring noise was accompanied by movement of various parts. Looking closer, Lenny saw that these parts were covered by a soft, rubber-like coating. The main moving part was a large instrument shaped like a plunger, this sinister looking thing moved up and down and in small circles, simultaneously.
Beneath the plunger, there was a soft base that vibrated extremely rapidly. As the machine whirred busily away, Lenny noticed that a lubricating fluid was secreted from invisible pores in the rubberized surfaces.
"This diabolical little contrivance is designed in such a way that all surfaces of the female genitalia are massaged simultaneously. It is, supposedly, guaranteed to produce orgasm in any woman in a matter of mere seconds."
"That's all very interesting," Lenny protested, "but I still don't see where I fit in."
"Look, baby," Boss Carl's gruff voice brought things down to the basic issue at hand, "it's simple. If he starts introducing these machines into clubs and private homes – as he has every intention of doing – it will drive us right out of business. Worse than that, the bastard is planning a device for males that will perform a similarly hideous function. His aim is to drive natural eroticism – women balling women – women balling animals and stuff like that – right out of business. If everybody has one of these things, why, screwing a bull will seem like old hat."
"It becomes, ultimately a great deal more important than just an issue of Xylotropic Industries versus Carl Industries." Lyle Montagne's voice was grave and solemn, his brow was furled in concentration, "You see, Lenny dear, if these things become household items, why normal sex life will be destroyed forever. No mortal can compete with such an ungodly machine. In order to preserve the human race, we will have to initiate sperm bank programs in every city in the entire world! It would be downright inhuman! Downright monstrous!"
Lenny stared at the three concerned men with a gaping mouth and blank expression. She barely believed what she was hearing.
"But," she asked, "why would anybody want to invent such a terrible machine?"
"Thaire aire two reesons, ma cherie," Louie spoke up now, "first, it is common knowledge that thees Meester McClain, he has a vairy beeg grudge against our friend, Boss Carl. They haf been enemies – how do you say it – almost from the days of thaire births."
Lenny nodded. It would not be hard to see how a man like Boss Carl might make some bitter enemies.
"And fairthermore, my leetle cabbage, thees Xylotropic Industries, eet controls the market and research into sperm bank operation. Eeef our not-so-good friend, Meester McClain, someday controls the sexual activities of the whole world, well surely you can see thait he weel be able to control who is born and who is not, he weel control the whole earth. Eeef he does not like babies with black hair, he simply doesn't allow any babies with black hair to be born. It is most distressing."
Lenny gazed at them for a moment, trying to weigh the full impact of their words in her mind. It was a frightening concept, there could be no doubt about that.
"But where do I fit into all of this? I'd be glad to help you."
"The fact is…" Lyle took up the conversation, "that there is nothing legal that we can do to stop the production of this fiendish machine. We've tried everything, lawyers, doctors, unions, even the CIA. There is only one way left to stop him."
"You…" a horrid thought flashed across Lenny's overburdened mind, "you mean, you're going to kill him?" The beautiful young woman's eyes were as big and round as saucers.
Boss Carl's thunderous laugh echoed in the small office like a caged tiger roaring triumph over its kill. "Of course not, dumb chickie," he tried to control his terrifying mirth long enough to cough out the words, "we thought of that long ago, but it simply wouldn't work. Oh, there's no question that I could put out a contract on his life. I could have him killed quietly and without any suspicion, but the work on the Xylotrope would still go on without him. Someone else, someone just as bad as McClain would take over the operation, that's all."
"But what then?" Lenny could not make any sense out of this conversation at all. Surely, she thought to herself in consternation, surely these men were powerful enough to crush such dangerous opposition.
Boss Carl stood and flipped a switch on the short side of the "L" of his desk. "You see, Lenny baby, we thought of everything. We couldn't get anywhere by killing him so we considered blowing up his whole plant. You know, industrial sabotage. But that would be sure to bring the law down on our necks, and we would either go to jail or make full reparations, or probably both. No, that wasn't any good either. It's a sad fact that the authorities watch every move Carl Industries makes. They watch us like damn buzzards!" To punctuate this last remark, Boss Carl brought his fist down violently on the desk. Lenny was amazed that he did not hurt his hand. It seemed that this peculiar man was made of iron.
"So," he went on, "what to do? We thought and thought and argued and reargued. Finally, my pretty little slash, we came up with a brilliant plan."
Leaning forward eagerly, Lenny asked, "Plan? What was it?"
"Simple, chickie," Boss Carl gloated, "the whole basis of McClain's plan was the sensational appeal of his product, right? Nobody could resist total stimulation. Nobody could resist instant orgasm. Well, I got to thinking one day, and I came up with an idea. You see, most of my work has been in the erotic field, and I got some pretty good ideas about what excites people and what doesn't."
As he spoke, Boss Carl began to pace rapidly up and down behind his desk.
"The trick is this… the idea of an instant orgasm might catch on real good, especially if everybody thinks his neighbor's got one. Nobody wants to think that his next door neighbor has more orgasms than he does, but if the idea doesn't catch on right away, then it'll fall down dead. It's my belief, and you have to realize that I'm what they call a humanist, that women and men would rather have exotic sex than efficient sex. Excitement, as you well know Lenny, is not just in the genitals, it's in the mind. That's where you come in."
Lenny stared at the big, burly man with a dazed expression. What was in store for her now? she wondered.