Dixon jerked it away from her. "No, no, little lady," he said. "Mustn't touch."
"Mrs. Kramer," Snyder continued, "your husband has become, you'll pardon the expression, a real pain in the ass to us. He goes around sticking his nose in where it doesn't belong, stirring things up, making no end of trouble for me and my organization. Now we want you to help us. We want you to warn him to, again pardon the expression, fuck off, to leave us every much alone. Will you help us?"
"Of course," said Lisa. Fear rose in her, making her heart beat faster and louder. It would be best to play along with them, she knew; then no one would get hurt.
"I thought so," said Snyder. "Really, I'm very grateful to you." He reached into his coat pocket, brought out a little, ominous looking vial. "Now just to make sure that you're really on our side," he said, "I'm going to ask you to drink this." He held the vial out to her.
"No," she said in a small voice, shrinking away from his outstretched hand, "I won't. It's poison."
Snyder jumped up, slapped her hard across the face. "Bitch," he growled. "Drink it!"
She took the vial to her lips, afraid of what he would do if she refused again. She drank the liquid down, thinking, well, it doesn't taste too bad, sort of like Kool-Aid. Maybe it won't hurt me.
"Ah," said Snyder as she drained the vial. "Very good. We appreciate your cooperation. Now you're just going to sit very still in that chair, and we're going to sit right over here and watch you until that stuff takes effect. Then," he said, an evil smirk on his face, "then we're going to have a party."
Even as he spoke Lisa could feel a strange sensation begin to rise in her, something like what she had felt so long ago, the first time she had seen Mike, but which up to now had been nothing but a vague memory. Horrified, she found herself looking with sudden interest at the front of Snyder's trousers, observing the small torpedo-shaped bulge moving down his right leg. How could she be so lewd, she thought, what was this stuff doing to her? Despite her thoughts, she could not control the desire that was growing within her, the desire to fondle that appealing little bulge with her hands, to knead it until it was stiff as a board and ready to penetrate her, to fill her warming cunt with its rigid splendor.
Her mind raced wildly. What was happening to her? She had never felt anything like this before, not even with Mike; never anything like this coarse but insatiable longing for a man's penis. Women were not supposed to feel this way; it was the man who was supposed to be the aggressor, the woman nothing but a helpless, passive victim. I certainly don't feel passive now, she thought. I feel like I want to go over there, unzip that sexy little man's pants, and… No, her mind cried out, no, I can't be thinking like this!
But she could not control herself, could not overcome the drug-induced desire, no matter how hard she tried. Slowly, stiffly, almost like a robot, she got up out of her chair, took the two steps necessary to get her to the couch. She felt oddly detached from herself, as if she were watching herself on television, or in some awful dream. Snyder's face seemed to be twisted into a hideous leer, a gross parody of lust and anticipation. "Well," she heard him say, although she could make no sense of his words, "looks like the stuff's working, all right."
Lisa went down on her knees in front of the gangster, reached automatically for his belt. She undid that, unhooked the clasp at the top of his trousers, pulled down the zipper, slid his pants down to expose his still-limp prick. My, she thought, what a cute little thing, must be just a child. Wonder if it wants to grow up. She plunged her mouth down on it without any hesitation, just as if it was something she did every day, to every male who stepped into the house; just to be polite, of course. Mmmmm, she thought, it tastes so fine and salty, like a hot dog at the beach. She massaged Snyder's cock with her lips, lightly grazing the tip of it with her tongue, exulting in the wonderful sweet feeling of it.
But at the same time another part of her mind, the older, more familiar part, was screaming with outrage. Here now, it was saying (and the voice sounded curiously like her mother's), what do you think you're doing? You're no better than one of this man's hired prostitutes, and probably a little bit worse – I'm sure they don't enjoy their work anywhere near as much as you seem to be enjoying this. Are you a whore then; is that what's been hiding inside you all this time? And what about your husband; what about poor Mike? Right now he probably thinks you're out playing tennis or doing the laundry; what do you think he'd say if he saw you down on your knees in your own living room with this gangster's penis in your mouth?
The conflict between her upbringing and her desires of the moment was almost unendurable – Lisa thought she would go out of her mind with it. One voice, the voice of the drug, was saying, "Fuck Mike; he spent last night with a whore, didn't he? Well, now it's my turn," while the other, "normal" voice called shame and degradation down on her. And which of these two voices was hers, truly hers? She'd been forced to take a drug, she knew that, and the drug was obviously working its evil on her, but why was this evil so enjoyable? Was it possible that the drug had only freed her to hear her own deepest yearnings and desires? Was it possible that both the voices were hers, or even more horrible to contemplate, that the voice of lust was the only one that really belonged to her, that the other voice was only an overlay, some outside imposition that had nothing to do with her true feelings, her true self? No, no, her mind screamed, it was impossible – this couldn't be her!
Yet her body went on reacting to its hidden longings, still her lips moved along Snyder's cock, still her tongue gathered in the droplets of semen that leaked down onto it. She was dimly aware that Snyder was squirming on the couch, that the other two men – what were their names? – were ogling her, pointing and laughing, but the only thing she was fully aware of, the only thing that mattered, was the knowledge that Snyder's prick was slowly growing, slowly filling her mouth with its warm, pulsing beauty. What a cock this was, she thought. To her drug-soaked mind Snyder's cock had become the quintessence of all cocks everywhere – she felt as if she was sucking off the entire male race.
In the meantime Snyder himself was becoming more and more personally involved with the proceedings. Wow, he thought to himself, this little bitch can really suck! It is just the fly, or has her old man been missing out on something all this time? Maybe, he thought, chuckling to himself, maybe we didn't have to give her fly at all, maybe all we had to do was ask her. She sure was doing a job on him! He could feel her coating his dick with her warm, slick saliva, scraping him gently with her teeth, licking him, caressing him with her lips, taking more and more of his stiff cock into her soft pink mouth. Already the semen was beginning to churn and gurgle in his balls, already he could feel his climax approaching.
He reached down, grabbed Lisa by the ears, pulled her off him. "Hold it, baby," he said. "Let's all go up to where we can be more comfortable. I don't want to stain your nice velvet couch." Dixon and Carstairs laughed out loud.
"No," cried Lisa, "no," as she immediately plunged herself back down onto Snyder's burning cock. She couldn't bear to be separated from that magnificent rod, no, not even for an instant. Every fiber of her being cried out for it, had to have it, had to feel it slide down her mouth and lodge in her throat. Fiercely she grabbed onto Snyder's thighs, gouging into his flesh with her fingernails as she filled her open, yearning mouth with his pulsating prick.
"Come on, baby," said Snyder imploringly, pushing her away from him again, "let's go upstairs. Come on, now."
Still Lisa would not be moved. She dug her fingernails even deeper into Snyder's thighs, threatening by implication to leave huge red welts up and down his legs if he attempted to push her away again. There was no stopping her now: she had kept a tight lid on her desires for almost thirty years, and now that the drug had freed her from her self-imposed prison she was determined to make the most of it, to suck and suck and go on sucking, forever if necessary, or at least until Snyder's prick eroded away in her mouth.