TAXI TO TORTURE
ONE
It was my first day on the job, and frankly, sex was about the last
thing on my mind, for a change. I had thought driving a taxi would be an easy
way to make some extra cash. And sometimes it is, once you get used to it, but
on that first day I was really sweating it out, what with fighting the traffic
and looking for fares and making out the trip sheet, and worrying about taking
people the shortest way to where they wanted to go, and all the time wondering
would I make enough money during the day for it all to be worth it.
So when I picked up the one with the fur coat and the shopping bag in
front of Bloomingdale's, I probably didn't look her over with the same amount of
interest I would have ordinarily shown. And certainly I didn't have any idea
about getting involved in the kind of scene that followed. I won't deny that
when I first thought about driving a taxi I had some pretty heavy fantasies
about making it with beautiful female passengers. But that was just the usual
kind of stuff you daydream about; and now, faced with the reality of getting
this one to the address she gave me on East Eighty-Fourth, the only thing on my
mind was should I continue up Third Avenue or swing over to First.
I decided on the latter, and as I was heading east on Sixtieth my
passenger spoke up.
"You're one of the in-betweens," she said.
"I beg your pardon?" I took a quick look at her in the rear-view mirror,
and as she caught me eyes there, she smiled slightly. She had an elegant, kind
of aristocratic look. She was maybe twenty-seven or twenty-eight, tall and slim,
with shoulder-length brown hair, dark eyes, prominent cheekbones which
contributed to the elegant look. So did her clothes--white cashmere sweater and
an expensive-looking skirt-and-jacket combination. She had thrown off the fur
coat, which she didn't need anyway; it was a balmy June day. The jacket kept me
from seeing just how much of a bulge the breasts made in the sweater, but the
skirt was short enough to show that she had very good legs, slender but shapely.
"I said you're one of the in-betweens." Her voice was dry, languid, the
tone hovering between amusement and boredom; a very social-register-type voice.
"It used to be," she went on, "that all the taxi drivers were rotund little
middle-aged men, mostly obnoxious. You know, with the balding head and the
cigars and the incessant opinions."
I had to laugh. "Were they all that bad?"
"Oh, don't use the past tense, Mr. Wulf," she said. I was startled when
she used my name, until I realized she had gotten it from the identification
card on the back of the seat. "Some of them are still with us, though not many.
Nowadays we mostly get the foreigners--the ones who don't know a thing about the
city, but make up for it by not speaking a word of English."
I didn't say anything.
"But in between," she went on, "for a while there, there was a whole
spate of your type. The young hairy ones. I'm so glad to see they haven't died
off."
Well, I don't think of myself as particularly hairy, though I guess I do
go too long between haircuts sometimes, and at that time I was trying on a
mustache. But I didn't say anything, just concentrated on turning onto First
Avenue.
After a moment she said, "Is this your life goal, cab-driving, or are
you really a struggling young actor or an unemployed executive or something?"
Something about the almost mocking tone of her voice made me feel kind
of edgy; but when I glanced at her again in the mirror she was busy lighting a
cigarette. So I said, "No, I'm a student. I go to NYU. I'm just doing this for
the summer, to make some money. You know."
"I see. What are you studying at NYU.?"
"Engineering. I'm going to be an electrical engineer."
"That's marvelous," she said, sounding bored. And then she said, "When
we get to my place you'll come up with me, won't you?"
I had stopped for a red light, and I was so surprised and distracted by
what she had said that I was slow starting up again when it turned green, and
the car behind me honked his horn. Then I stepped on the gas too quickly, and
the car started with a jerk. I felt like an idiot.
"I beg your pardon?" I said.
"Again?" She leaned forward, rested her arms on the top of the seat,
with her mouth not far from my ear, and said very distinctly, "I said: When we
get to my place I want you to come up with me. To my apartment." And she sat
back again.
Now I'm not dumb, and I'm not backward with the girls, but this lady was
something else. "What for?" I asked.
I heard her exhaling smoke. "What for," she said in that bored-amused
voice, "do you think?"
What I was thinking--if I was thinking--I don't remember, but for some
reason I was kind of flustered, maybe slightly panicked, and I said,
"We're...uh...we're not supposed to...to leave the cab alone. You know? I mean,
except for lunch, and like that. We're supposed to...uh...stay...uh..."
"Oh," she said. "I see."
I thought she might have been a bit pissed off, but I couldn't really
tell. There was silence for the next block or two. Then she said, "Well.
Suppose--just suppose--I were to... accidentally...leave something behind. In
the taxi. Wouldn't you then have an obligation to return it to me?"
"Well I--I guess so. Yeah. I mean, we have a place to turn in lost
articles and stuff, but..."
"But if you knew I had left it, and you knew where I lived, it would be
only natural for you to return it directly to me. Wouldn't it?"
"I...guess. Sure. I guess."
"Well, good." And with that, she turned so that she was sitting
sideways, swung her legs up onto the seat and stretched them out in front of
her. The skirt rode high, showing a large amount of bare and beautifully curved
thigh flesh. I didn't know what she was up to, but my eyes were jerking madly
back and forth between the mirror and the traffic. But what she did next almost
caused an accident.
Because she took hold of the bottom of the skirt with both hands and
pulled it up even further, pulled it up to the tops of her legs. And then she
hitched herself up a little to get her ass clear of the seat, and pulled it all
the way up around her waist.
I don't know why we didn't crash, because I know my attention was sure
as hell not on the road. I had all I could do not to turn around and look at her
directly. I was praying for another red light, but now the traffic was moving
smoothly and I was making all the greens--they're timed, up First Avenue.
She was wearing a pair of brief bikini panties, light green and filmy.
Long shapely legs below them and a strip of creamy flesh above them. She knew I
was watching her as much as I could, because she smiled at me in the mirror
again--a really provocative smile this time--and then she hooked her thumbs in
the panties and pushed them down. Down over her hips. Slid them down her thighs.
Lifted her legs and pulled them off, then dropped them on the floor of the car.
I had a hard-on.
Which wasn't helped by what she did next. Instead of pulling her skirt
down and straightening up, as I expected, she first ran her hand up her thigh,
kind of teasingly, and when it reached her crotch she ruffled her fingers
casually through the soft patch of brown pubic hair. And then--with another
deliberately sexy smile into the mirror--then she parted her knees and spread
them apart, one resting against the back of the seat, the other--the one nearer
to me--lying almost flat on the seat itself.
I could see right into her open cunt.
I swear I don't know how I continued to drive; I wasn't seeing anything
but that mirror. Somewhere in the recesses of my mind was the thought that
somebody could see her through the window, and there could be trouble. But it
didn't seem to bother the lady. She stayed there, wide open, smiling and combing
her bush with her fingers and letting me look.
Then I heard my own voice, sounding dry and kind of choked.
"I--we--we're going to have an accident if you keep that up," I was saying.
"Oh. Well, we wouldn't want that to happen, would we?" Unhurriedly, even
gracefully, she closed her legs, swung her feet to the floor and adjusted her
skirt. I gave a sigh that was part relief, part regret. "Anyway, we're coming to
my street," she said. "It's the next corner."
"Yeah." I swung onto Eighty-Fourth and concentrated on looking for the
number she had given me. It was a big fancy apartment building, and I pulled up
in front of it and pushed down the flag on the meter. I was sweating a little.
"That's four ninety-five," I said.
She handed me a ten-dollar bill. "Keep it."
"Hey, thanks!"
"Oh, I can do better than that," she said meaningfully. The doorman of
the building had approached the cab, and now opened the door for her to get out.
Before she did she leaned forward and said in a low voice, "Just in case you
should find anything I left behind, my name is Harris and my apartment is
Sixteen-A." And then she slid out of the car. The doorman closed the door and I
drove away.
But not very far. I went to the end of the block and around the corner,
looking for a place to park. When I found one I stopped. Then I sat there for a
little while, thinking.
Because, like I said, it was my first day. And we WEREN'T supposed to
leave the cab unattended for any long period of time. And if I took some time
off I wouldn't be making any money--as well as possibly being fired. So I
thought about those things.
And then I thought of the elegant, sensuous woman who had exposed
herself to me in my cab. I remembered her clean, cared-for good looks. And her
long sexy legs. And what was between them. And I made the decision I had known I
would make all along.
I scrambled up on the seat and stretched over the back so I could reach
down and retrieve the tiny garment she had left on the floor in back. The sheer
green panties felt like silk, and smelled--yes, I smelled them--of a combination
of light perfume and musky woman-scent. I stuffed them in my pocket and got the
hell out of the cab.
Back at the apartment house, the doorman looked at me suspiciously as he
opened the door for me, and some guy behind a desk in the lobby practically held
his nose when he took in my old leather jacket and rumpled jeans. "Yes?" he said
in an icy voice. I almost expected him to tell me the trade entrance was around
the back or something.
"Harris," I said. "Sixteen-A."
He arched his eyebrows disdainfully, as if he didn't believe me. "Your
name, please?"
"Wulf. Mel Wulf."
He picked up a telephone and punched two numbers. "A Mr. Wulf," he said
into it, "to see Mrs. Harris."
So it was MRS. Harris. Well, her husband was probably at work now. Or
she was a rich widow. I didn't care. I felt for the panties in my pocket.
"You may go up," the guy said, but you could tell he wasn't happy about
it. I got into the elevator. The operator took me up and waited to see that the
door was answered before he went away.
The door was answered, all right. Not by the lady of the taxi, but by a
maid. You could tell she was a maid because she was wearing a maid's
costume--kind of. It was black and brief, stopping short just below her crotch.
And you could see through it.
She had very long, wavy blonde hair, worn loose, and clear blue eyes,
and a wide, voluptuous mouth. In fact, voluptuous was the word for her
altogether. her figure was a contrast to the slim elegance of her employer,
being deliciously full and rounded. Her breasts were large and seemed to be
almost bursting from her chest, but thrust out buoyantly, without sagging a
bit--and I could see that there was nothing supporting them under the filmy
black uniform. Her legs were bare and so fantastically shapely, from the flesh
sweep of her thighs through the curved perfection of her calves down to her
slender ankles, that they seemed to go on forever, though she was not
particularly tall.
I must have been gaping like an idiot, but she showed no expression.
"Mr. Wulf?" she asked.
I nodded.
"Come in, please." Because of the black uniform, I guess, I had been
half-expecting a French accent; but if anything her speech sounded British, very
clipped and cool. Inside, she took my jacket and hung it up in a closet.
"Madam is awaiting you," she said. "This way, please."
She took me down a long hall and at the end of it opened a door and
motioned me inside. It seemed to be a bedroom. Well, that was fine with me. I
stepped in, and stopped short, staring. For a moment I couldn't even breathe.
Madam was awaiting me, all right. There wasn't much else she could do.
She was spread-eagled on a large bed and tied to it hand and foot, each wrist
and ankle bound with a piece of rope which in turn was attached to one of the
corner bedsteads. She looked pretty tightly stretched. And she was naked.
She smiled at me, the same enigmatic, provocative smile as in the taxi.
"Hello, Mr. Wulf," she said calmly. "How nice of you to return what I left
behind. Thank you."
I swallowed hard. "What--what's going on?" I said stupidly.
"I'm being punished," she said. "For losing my panties. Do you like me
this way?"
"I...well...yes." It was true. Her body, slender as it was, was
beautifully proportioned, and the way she was spread out brought every detail
into sensuous prominance. Her skin was white and very smooth and absolutely
flawless.
"Good. Would you like to make love to me?"
I nodded. If she had looked at what was happening to the front of my
pants she wouldn't have had to ask.
"I'm glad," she said. "I would like that too--if Jessica will allow it."
For the first time I was aware that the maid had followed me into the
room. I guessed she was Jessica. "You have to get her permission?" I asked,
trying hard to be cool in the face of this weird scene.
"Oh, yes. You see--" Mrs. Harris began; but Jessica cut in, coming
further into the room.
"Madam is talking too much," she said. Her voice was quiet but carried
an authoritative ring which didn't go with the maid's costume.
Mrs. Harris lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said docilely.
"We will give you something to stop up your mouth," Jessica went on.
She turned to me. "Take off your clothes, please."
I stared at her. "Hey, wait a minute--"
"Yes?" she asked simply, when I couldn't think of anything more.
"Well, I--I mean look, I...I don't know about what you do with HER, but
I don't like to be ordered around."
"There is no need for you to be," she replied in the same calm tone.
"You may leave if you wish."
I thought about that. I took off my clothes.
I felt pretty awkward standing naked while the two women looked me over.
I also felt very horny. My cock was standing up stiff and tall and obvious;
there wasn't much I could do about it.
"Nice, isn't it?" the lady on the bed murmured.
Jessica strode to the bedside. "I told you to be quiet, Madam," she
said. She reached down and took one of the lady's delicate red nipples between
her thumb and forefinger.
"I'm sorry," Mrs. Harris said in an apprehensive tone. "Please, Jessica.
I'm sorry."
"I should think so," the blonde girl said. And she squeezed the nipple,
hard. I saw her nails digging into the flesh.
The lady bit her lip, then began to moan piteously. Her face twisted
with pain. Her body writhed in its bonds. After a long moment, Jessica let go.
My throat was dry. I didn't know if I was excited or repelled. "Jesus,"
I said hoarsely. "Why did you do that? Why does she take it?"
"Don't be foolish," Jessica snapped. "She pays me to abuse her. Don't
you?" she asked Mrs. Harris. "You may answer."
"Yes," the lady said softly.
"And that will be the last word out of you for some time," the blonde
said. "Mr. Wulf, please stop up her mouth. With that." And she pointed to my
cock. "It certainly looks big enough."
It was hard enough, for sure. I walked over to the bed. I wasn't sure
how I was going to go about it, but Jessica solved that problem. "On the bed,"
she instructed me firmly. "Straddle her, and sit on her breasts."
So I got up on the bed and swung myself over her chest. I lowered myself
until I felt her hard nipples touch my ass. My prick arched toward her face, and
her eyes followed it.
"Sit right down on her," Jessica commanded. Her voice grew contemptuous.
"Don't worry about crushing her silly little tits. She'll suck better if
you're hurting her."
I was too far gone to argue. I sat on her breasts. She gasped and then
started to whimper. Her eyes turned to the watching maid, as if for help.
"Now, Madam," Jessica said.
Mrs. Harris raised her head and reached for me with her mouth. She had
to strain and crane her neck to do it, but she managed. She took my eager cock
between her lips and slid her mouth down over it. Her lips were soft and tender.
I felt the touch of her tongue, and I couldn't help moaning with pleasure. Then
she began to suck me.
Slowly and lovingly, as she lay roped and spread on the bed with me
crushing her elegant breasts beneath me. the lady pleasured me with delicious
expertise. From time to time, as she sucked, she looked up at me with brown
melting eyes. The whole scene was blowing my mind, and I didn't think I could
keep my control very long. But Jessica was watching closely, and as I began to
get close to the edge, she grabbed Mrs. Harris by the hair and pulled her head
back, dragging her mouth off me. She fell back on the bed, gasping. I was kind
of gasping myself.
"Madam uses her mouth well, does she not?" Jessica said to me. "No,
don't get up, Mr. Wulf. I want her to remain under your weight while I take
advantage of her...oral talents."
With this, she reached behind her and opened something, unzipped
something, and her uniform fell away. I felt stunned as I stared at her
beautiful, ripe, fantastically sexy naked body. I watched her amazing breasts
jiggle as she climbed onto the bed and positioned herself above her employer's
head, facing me. With knees spread wide on either side of the lady, she lowered
herself until she was sitting on her face, her crotch directly over Mrs. Harris'
mouth.
"Now, Madam," she said again.
I couldn't really see what Mrs. Harris was doing, but evidently she was
being as good to Jessica as she had been to me, because the blonde girl soon
began to breathe heavily, and her eyes seemed to glaze over. But she kept her
tone of command, even though her voice was less firm. "Yes," she breathed. "Keep
that tongue busy, Madam. Yes...Deeper, you bitch...Harder...Yes..."
In my still rigid and unfulfilled state, watching her luscious body
squirming and jerking was driving me nuts. Almost without realizing I was doing
it, I raised my hands to her heaving, bursting breasts. She made no objection; I
wasn't even sure she was aware that I was touching her. The bouncing globes were
amazingly firm under my hands. The skin was warm and smooth, and the jutting
nipples felt even harder than they looked. I stroked them, wondering for a
moment how she would react if I pinched them as she had done to Mrs. Harris.
But now the writhing blonde leaned toward me, without breaking her
contact with her employer's mouth. "Kiss me," she panted.
It was an order, but once again I couldn't resist. I met her open mouth
with mine. Her lips were fierce and fiery, and her tongue immediately thrust
itself into my mouth. I held on to her breasts, and we kissed voraciously,
mouths mashed together while our tongues caressed and searched and explored.
She began to moan as Mrs. Harris' ministrations pushed her gradually but
inexorably toward climax, and her moans vibrated in my mouth and seemed to come
from both of us at once. The moans got louder and louder; she kissed me even
more fiercely as her body twisted with pleasure. Then she stiffened and tore her
mouth away from mine, throwing back her head and giving a series of
full-throated shrieks as she jerked out her orgasm.
I stayed where I was, waiting to see what was going to happen next. I
didn't have to wait long. Even before Jessica's breathing had completely
returned to normal, she was reaching out for my prick. She stroked it
appreciatively.
"I want this now," she panted. And she raised herself off Mrs. Harris'
face and hitched herself forward until her body was against me. And before I had
time to recover from that, she was lowering herself down on my cock.
I slid into her easily; she was moist and slick from the lady's mouth
and from her orgasm, but she was also incredibly snug and clinging. She groaned
as she took me in completely. Her marvelous breasts flattened against my chest,
the nipples boring into me. I wrapped my arms around her and felt her nails
digging into my back as she began to move.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I was aware of Mrs. Harris making
painful noises; her crushed breasts were now bearing the weight of both of us,
and our rhythmic jouncing must have added to the discomfort. But I couldn't
think about that now, and in any case I couldn't stay long in that position with
Jessica bouncing against me. I fell backwards and she fell on top of me, her
body spread gloriously over mine while she continued to fuck me wildly.
She was fantastic and beautiful, and for a while I really dug lying
there and letting her go to town. I grabbed her luscious ass and held on to it
as it pumped energetically up and down. She was wriggling and panting and
sweating, and I was going out of my skull with the pleasure of it. But after a
time I felt I wanted to take a more active part in the whole thing. So I heaved
up and rolled us over, bringing her beneath me without breaking contact. We were
still lying on top of Mrs. Harris, and with her as our mattress we continued to
screw harder than ever.
Jessica's smooth, gorgeous legs wrapped themselves around me; her body
arched, bucked and twisted under mine, and I plunged into her again and again
with deep, steady strokes. Underneath our continuous gasps and moans and
wordless cries, I could still hear the noises Mrs. Harris was making as we
revelled on top of her bound body. I thought of rolling us off to one side of
the bed, or even to the floor, but Jessica had begun to move faster still, her
groans loud and hoarse in my ear. She was approaching climax, and so was I. I
thrust harder, stabbing savagely deep into her eager cunt as her body started to
go out of control. We were perfectly timed; I felt my own control slipping as
she went into an intense series of spasms, screaming with joy as each wave broke
over her. I held on to her and cried out my own ecstasy, exploding deliciously
again and again inside her clutching, jouncing cunt.
Then we collapsed, exhausted and perspiring. After a moment I disengaged
myself and pulled away from her, sitting up on the side of the bed because I
didn't want to burden the bound lady any further. But Jessica had no such
compunction; she continued to loll carelessly on top of her employer's body.
Mrs. Harris was still moaning, but more softly now. Otherwise she just lay there
staring up at the ceiling.
"Hey," I said to Jessica when I had regained my breath. "How about
getting off her now?"
"Don't worry about her," Jessica said, shifting her body lazily but not
moving anyplace. "The bitch loves it."
Okay, I figured, the lady was evidently able to speak for herself, so
maybe Jessica was right. I felt sorry, looking at the taut, sensuous body
stretched out underneath the blonde, that I hadn't gotten to make love to her
after all. Not that I regretted making it with Jessica--that was great. But now
I felt depleted for the moment, and I assumed the fun and games were over.
I was wrong. Jessica saw me looking at the lady's body, and smiled
icily. "Still want her?" she said in a mocking tone. "Even after me? Such
energy!" She sat up on Mrs. Harris' stomach. "Well, why not? I suppose the silly
slut won't be happy until she screws you, will you, Madam? But Mr. Wulf doesn't
look quite ready for you yet. You'll have to get it up for him first, won't you?
And you'll be sucking my juices off him while you do it; how nice." Then she
turned to me again. "Put it back in her mouth," she said.
Beautiful or not, I was getting kind of tired of Jessica and her
superior tone. And, as I said, I didn't like being ordered around. Of course I
admit it was a lot easier to resist now that I wasn't as horny as before. So I
said, "Look, why don't you stop telling me what to do, okay?"
She raised her eyebrows in a way that made me want to hit her. "Stop
making silly noises," she said flatly. "You want to fuck her. Well, stick it in
her mouth and let her suck you hard, then give it to her, that's all. Or else
leave."
That did it. I stood up and grabbed her by the upper arms, pulling her
up off the bed. I was really pissed off. "Listen, you bitch," I said, holding
her fast in spite of her efforts to pull away. "You may be a great lay, but
you're also a pain in the ass." I shook her a little. Her breasts did
interesting things, but I was too mad to be distracted. "Your rich boss may dig
that kind of treatment," I went on, "but it doesn't go down with me. I like to
give my own orders. Okay? You got that?"
I was shaking her more roughly, and I hadn't realized how hard my
fingers were digging into her arms. But something had happened. She had stopped
struggling, and her face had softened. There was a strange look in her eyes. I
stopped shaking her. "Okay?" I repeated.
She was staring at me in this strange way; and then her eyes lowered.
"Yes, sir," she said in a very soft voice. And then she said, "What would you
like me to do?"
Well now.
"I want YOU to suck me," I said, keeping my tone rough, though my anger
had been surprised away by Jessica's abrupt reversal. But, if that was what it
took.... "YOU take it in your mouth. YOU get me ready for her. YOU suck your
juices off me. And do it good. Now. On your knees."
"Yes," Jessica whispered, and as I let her go she sank slowly and
gracefully to her knees in front of me. There were marks on her arms where I had
been holding her. She made a soft noise in her throat as she brought her face to
my crotch. Her mouth opened. I gasped and clutched at her hair.
Her mouth was not slow, warm and gentle as Mrs. Harris' had been. She
was hungry and voracious, yet utterly submissive to my pleasure. She used her
tongue on me first, licking off the stickiness remaining from our fuck. Then she
kissed the length of my cock, her lips soft and pliant on the sensitive skin.
And when I ordered her to take it in her mouth, she engulfed it totally, sucking
and licking it as it thrust deeper and deeper into her willing and talented
throat.
I was hard as a rock again, and now felt as lustful as ever. I wanted
Jessica's wonderful sucking to go on forever; but I finally forced myself to
pull away from her. Leaving her there on her knees, I turned back to the bed and
looked down at the bound woman. Her eyes were fastened on my rigid and throbbing
prick. She was breathing quickly, and her nipples were hard. After a moment she
looked up at me with a return of her slightly teasing smile.
"Well, Mr. Wulf," she breathed softly. "I'm glad to see that you are
going to be able to make love to me after all."
"You bet your ass," I said. I put a hand on her breast. It didn't feel
at all crushed; it felt firm and springy. I remembered the little strip-tease in
the cab, and I wanted her. I turned to Jessica, who was still kneeling, and
said, "Untie her."
The blonde started to get up, but Mrs. Harris objected. "No!" she said
sharply. Then her voice changed. "Please, Mr. Wulf. Please. I admire your
mastery, and the wonderful way you tamed my maid. But if I may, I would like you
to take me as I am now. You will not find it unpleasant, I promise you."
I hesitated, looking down at the lovely spread-eagled body; and as I was
considering, I heard what sounded like a key being turned in the front door of
the apartment. Then a door opened and closed. There were footsteps.
I froze. I thought I saw a fleeting smile on Jessica's face. Mrs.
Harris' expression did not change. "Oh," she said calmly. "That must be my
husband."
