Amanda's Young Men

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Amanda's Young Men Page 18

by Madeline Moore


  One youth was large, with a bulbous nose that was pitted with blackheads. The other was a bit shorter than Tom but twice as wide, built like a fireplug. Whereas Tom had reminded Amanda of cricket, this one made her think of rugby and wrestling and gymnasium showers. Under other circumstances, Amanda might have found him reasonably attractive, in a crude sort of way. But not now.

  ‘Nice to make your acquaintance,’ he said with a smirk.

  The other contented himself with a snort.

  A slimy coldness invaded Amanda’s tummy. Somewhere near the top of her extensive repertoire of masturbation fantasies, she’d imagined being kidnapped and forced to perform obscenities for a gang of crude toughs. Being subjected to a gang-bang was a common female fantasy, or so she’d read.

  But this was real, and nasty. It didn’t excite her one little bit.

  ‘I want to see your ID,’ she said to Tom, trying to take control. ‘Something with your birth date on it.’

  ‘Zat so? Like my driver’s licence?’ Tom leered in close. ‘I want to see something of yours, too.’

  Amanda struggled to keep fear from her voice. ‘You had something to tell me about your mother,’ she reminded Tom.

  ‘Only one thing you need to know about my mother. She’s not here! And she won’t be back for a couple of days. Me and my pals are having us a bit of a bash before I head back to college. And you are invited to be the guest of honour, and to provide the entertainment.’

  ‘Guest of honour?’

  ‘I told my mates about all the really dirty things you and me got up to that day. They want you to do the same things for them, right?’ He turned to his friends.

  They agreed. ‘Right! Right!’

  Amanda wanted to breathe deeply but the smell in the room was revolting. Everything about this scenario was disgusting beyond belief. She tried to keep a level voice. ‘And what if I don’t want to do those things for your stupid friends?’

  Trying to sound menacing but failing because his voice cracked, Tom snarled, ‘It can be real nice for you if you play along, or we can make it real nasty if you don’t, but you’re going to do us, all three of us, and do us every way there is, whether you like it or not.’

  ‘I don’t believe you’d do that to me, Tom. Not after what we had together.’

  That was precisely the wrong thing to say. Anger flushed Tom’s face bright red and tears shone in the corners of his eyes. ‘I loved you. You used me. I don’t love you any more.’

  Amanda shrank back. ‘I need help,’ she whispered.

  The fat boy lumbered up out of an armchair clutching his groin. The leering wrestler elbowed himself off the wall he’d been leaning against.

  ‘Might as well enjoy it, lady,’ the fat one suggested.

  ‘No!’ Amanda lifted her bag closer to her face, abandoning all attempts at secrecy. ‘Trevor! I need you. I really need you!’

  ‘What the fuck?’ Tom asked.

  ‘Who’s this “Trevor”?’ the fat one wanted to know.

  There was a crash in the hall and then the door behind Amanda burst open. The three would-be rapists each took a quick step backwards.

  ‘Party’s over, lads,’ Trevor announced.

  The wrestler told him, ‘Take off, you, before you get hurt, bad.’

  Tom squeaked, ‘This is a private house. I’ll call the police on you.’

  ‘That’s a stupid threat,’ Trevor observed. ‘Here.’ He scooped an ornate antique phone off a side table and tossed it at Tom, who fumbled his catch. The phone jangled to the floor. Its dial rolled away under the sideboard.

  ‘Go ahead, call them,’ Trevor challenged.

  The wrestler said, ‘You’ve got a count of three to get out, or else!’

  ‘One-two-three,’ Trevor counted. ‘Now what?’

  The wrestler rushed Trevor, fists swinging. The heel of Trevor’s right hand met the boy’s forehead, whipping his head back and sending him crashing against the wall. He bounced off it as if he was made of rubber and charged again. Trevor stepped inside his swinging fists and bitch-slapped him half a dozen times, driving him backwards until he fell over his own feet.

  Tom hadn’t made a move but Trevor reached a long arm out sideways and took his lower lip in a pinch-grip between his finger and thumb. As Trevor twisted, Tom sank, gurgling and streaming tears, to his knees. Trevor patted him down, located his wallet in his rear jeans’ pocket, extracted it and tossed it to Amanda.

  It was the fat one’s turn to charge – and to be met by a thrust from the heel of Trevor’s free hand into his flabby chest. He back-pedalled, gasping for air, and tripped over a stool.

  ‘Next?’ Trevor asked calmly.

  The three teens looked questioningly at each other but none of them volunteered to attack Trevor again.

  ‘Damn,’ Trevor complained, ‘I didn’t even get to use my karate.’ He took the open bottle of chocolate liqueur and poured it over Tom’s head. ‘Lap that up while I decide what to do with you,’ he ordered.

  Tom meekly obeyed.

  ‘What’s his ID say, Amanda?’ he asked, as he poured a bottle of thick red liqueur over the big boy’s head and a vile yellow liquid over the head of the other. Like Tom, they lapped up the liqueur that had reached the floor.

  ‘He’s more than legal, the little bugger,’ said Amanda.

  ‘You scared Ms Amanda, Tom. Apologise.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ms Amanda,’ whispered Tom.

  Trevor said, ‘I don’t think that’s good enough, sonny. Amanda, go see if you can find a pair of scissors somewhere for me. The kitchen, perhaps?’

  When Amanda got back, she found Tom still squatting, awkwardly shuffling his pants off his feet. The other two boys were in the process of dropping theirs. All three had sticky chins and shirts. They stared, bug-eyed, at the scissors in Amanda’s hand.

  ‘Trevor,’ she whispered, ‘I did hurt Tom’s feelings. Maybe …’

  ‘He and his buddies were going to rape you, Amanda. Give me those scissors.’

  ‘What are you going to do with them?’

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to snip their cocks off, though I wouldn’t mind doing that, actually. Here –’ Trevor kicked Tom’s pants over to Amanda ‘– you do it instead.’

  He jerked his head to the other two. ‘Give ’em to the lady, boys.’

  To Amanda, he said, ‘Cut their pants up, please. Nice small pieces if you don’t mind.’

  Amanda laughed out loud with relief. She commenced cutting up the boys’ pants.

  Trevor turned back to the teens. ‘Underpants off as well, if you please. You, the one who thinks he’s got muscles, I want you to sit in the armchair. Come on – move it. We’re gonna make a movie, kids! Get your cell-phone camera ready, madam director. We’re gonna make a porno movie starring Tom and Dick and over here – Harry.’ He dragged Tom to his feet and released his bruised lip. ‘OK, Tom, you promised blow-jobs and sodomy to your friends, I’m sure. It’s not nice to renege on a promise, so on your knees, there’s a good lad, and get sucking.’

  Tom went white. ‘Suck …?’

  ‘That’s right, suck your mate’s cock. Let’s get on with it.’

  ‘I won’t do it!’

  ‘No?’ Trevor’s hand shot out. He took Tom’s cock and balls into his massive fist. ‘Want to change your mind? Ever heard the sound of a man’s balls bursting from being slowly crushed?’

  ‘N-no.’

  ‘Me neither. It was a trick question. You can’t hear it, you see, on account of all the screaming.’

  ‘Ms Amanda,’ implored Tom. ‘Help me?’

  Amanda looked up from the cell phone, which she was setting to ‘movie mode’.

  ‘How about if the boys pretend they’re doing each other? It’ll look the same on “Yoo-hoo tube” or whatever it’s called.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Trevor. ‘I think they’re dying to fuck and suck each other off.’

  ‘No,’ shouted Tom. ‘I swear I’m not.’

 
‘Me neither!’ chimed in the stocky one.

  Interestingly, the fat one remained silent.

  ‘All right,’ conceded Trevor. ‘But I think all three of you owe a big thank you to Ms Amanda.’

  A chorus of heartfelt thank-yous were offered to Amanda. To think only moments earlier these grovelling cowards had actually frightened her. She cast a grateful look at Trevor. ‘Quiet on the set!’ Let him have his fun. He deserved it.

  Trevor directed Tom to kneel in front of the boxy boy, who sat on the couch with his legs splayed. He beckoned the obese one over. ‘On your knees, you, down behind Tom. I want you to make it look like you’re buggering him.’

  When all three red-faced boys were in place, he said to Amanda, ‘Be sure to get their faces, and their bare bums and their silly little cocks, of course. I want hard-ons! And I want to hear you boys make some noise.’

  The boys pumped up their pricks and practised moaning.

  ‘Action!’ Amanda took close-ups and wide panning shots, while the boys groaned and humped like pros. After a while, she pressed the ‘stop’ button. ‘New positions, please,’ she said sweetly.

  Trevor repositioned the boys so that the one on the couch was now apparently being rogered by Tom, while he took the large boy’s member in his mouth.

  Amanda shot for a few more minutes, then said, ‘I think we’ve got enough.’

  The boys collapsed.

  Trevor moved among them, nudging them with his toe. ‘You know how quickly I could get these clips to your parents or your college? Or just on to the net? Still, no rush. I think I’ll just keep them for now. Maybe I’ll upload them tomorrow, or next month, or even next year. I might just wait until one of you achieves something, not that that’s likely. Won’t it be nice, your name and picture in the local paper because you won first prize in an ugly contest, or got a half-decent job, or something? Or maybe because you managed to get married? And that jogs my memory so I go online, press “Send”, and ruin you? Think about it.’

  From their snivelling, it seemed the boys were doing just that.

  Trevor asked, ‘Done, Amanda?’

  ‘All done.’ She knelt by Tom to stare straight into his miserable eyes. ‘I’m sorry it came to this,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll keep the movie, Tom, not him.’ She jerked her head at Trevor. ‘I won’t use it as long as you stay away from me. OK?’

  Tom nodded. His puppy-dog eyes were grateful.

  The fat boy blurted, ‘I think I’m going to throw up.’

  The wrestler said, ‘Me too!’

  ‘That’s fine,’ Trevor allowed. ‘Just so you don’t follow us. If you do, I’ll thump you hard. Come on, Amanda.’

  The room’s door closed behind them a full second before the sounds of retching started.

  As Trevor drove them away, Amanda cuddled up to his massively muscular arm. ‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ she said.

  ‘No need. I told you, remember? I protect you. It’s part of the package.’

  She ran her fingertips up the ridge of his cock, through his pants. ‘It’s a great package, Trevor.’

  He covered her hand. ‘No, Amanda, not now.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘That was pretty disgusting, back there. You can’t feel like sex, not after what you just went through.’

  ‘But I really want to thank you, and …’

  ‘Not that way, Amanda. Our physical relationship isn’t all there is to us. At least, I hope not. I’m happy I was able to help you. And just think, now you have Sophie Sharpe over a barrel. Once she sees that movie …’

  Amanda sat up straight. ‘No, Trevor. Sophie Sharpe will never see that movie.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘For all his bluster, Tom never told his mother about us. Even though he’s of age, I’m sure his mother would still have had plenty to say to me, and to the other shareholders, about the morality of the President of Forsythe Footwear. No, what went on between me and Tom is still private, and it’ll stay that way, as long as he behaves himself from here on in.’

  ‘Even if it costs you the company.’

  ‘I don’t think it’ll come to that. I learnt a few things from that boy.’

  ‘That’s for sure. For instance, always check their ID.’

  ‘Yes, that.’ Amanda had to laugh. ‘Although I think, if I simply made it a rule not to have sex with people who still live with their parents, I should be OK.’

  20

  DARK AS MIDNIGHT, her naked body bathed in warmth. Safe inside a steel cocoon. Brilliant calm in the middle of chaos … Amanda wondered what it would be like to masturbate inside the tanning bed. Her hand skittered down her belly towards its target. Her pink pearl, the one that so delighted in a good polishing, roused itself at once.

  Damn! Amanda stilled her hand. She’d come to the tanning salon for a few moments’ respite from either running a company or screwing her brains out with one or more of her five new lovers. She needed to quiet her thoughts, centre her being and get a base tan started so she’d be glowing for the shareholders’ meeting. The absolute last part of her body that needed attention was her so-called ‘love’ button.

  There was the rub. Was any of it love?

  If not, was that mostly her choice? Or was it because deep down she wasn’t loveable? After all, even Roger had had to seek … something in another woman’s arms.

  Much as she was enjoying her current sybaritic state, she would not have entered into it had Roger not widowed her in such a publicly humiliating way. She was sure of it. But when she’d been exposed as a bad wife – or, no, as a lousy lover! – and left a widow at the same time, she’d truly lost all interest in monogamy.

  There were two ways to avoid it. One was to be celibate. The other was to take multiple lovers. Amanda chuckled. The first option wasn’t worth considering. It was glorious to be so sexually alive. She could have more lovers, too. Somehow she’d become a walking siren, a present-day goddess, Cleopatra in a business suit. If she wanted, she could already have had the parking attendant and at least one sales rep. Just wait till the shareholders’ meeting. Her sexual charisma would probably win the day all by itself!

  Especially with a little glow on.

  Silence. Darkness from the goggles over her eyes and heat all around.

  Again, Amanda wondered what it would be like to masturbate inside the tanning bed.

  Forget it. A woman with five lovers needs to rest when she’s alone. Amanda grinned as she counted them. A hunk o’ burning love, Trevor. Rupert and Paul. And then there were the girls. Nola. Meg.

  She hadn’t thought of Meg much since the girl had called to thank her for the flowers. That conversation had been very short. Well, Amanda hadn’t known exactly what to say and it wasn’t up to Meg to say any more than she had, which was thank you.

  What had it been about that girl that had so turned her head? It was lucky, really, that Trevor had come along that very night to screw the lezzy right out of her. God, what a man.

  And what was she? A ‘switch’, Trevor had said. Maybe it was the extreme femininity of Meg that had so called to her, as heady an invitation as the extreme masculinity of Trevor, so attractive to one who is presently neither or both.

  God, it was fun to combine the allure of woman with the power of man. No wonder she had five lovers. Amanda’s forehead wrinkled. Not five lovers. Six. Tom counted. She had to be more careful in the future, and not just with checking ID. The first time for anyone is important. Certainly hers had been. Just because so far her virgin lovers had all been male didn’t mean that losing their virginity wasn’t momentous for them. She should have seen the Heartbreak Kid coming and been more careful with him or even have avoided the whole thing entirely. She’d been lucky, really, that Paul and Rupert had genuinely welcomed her advances. And welcomed her they had. Both boys had fallen into her clutches with grateful eagerness. Or would it be eager gratefulness? Either way, those initial shoe-store encounters had been divine.

  Once again, Aman
da wondered what it would be like to masturbate inside the tanning bed.

  Damn!

  21

  AMANDA’S FINGERNAILS DUG under the edge of the hard shell of wax that coated Nola’s pubes. ‘Ready?’

  The girl nodded. Amanda ripped. Nola yelped. Most of the wax came away in one piece, leaving Amanda to pick the last few fragments off. ‘Stand up and turn around.’

  Nola lifted her bum off the tiled surround of Amanda’s bathtub and turned to face it.

  ‘Bend over.’

  The easiest place to miss short fine hairs is on the ‘taint’ but Amanda’s close inspection, with her eyes and with the tips of her fingers, failed to find any strays. ‘There,’ she said, ‘that’s better than shaving, right? It’ll last longer, as well.’

  ‘Thank you, Ms Amanda.’

  ‘Turn around again.’ Amanda poured soothing lotion on to her palm and smoothed it over Nola’s freshly bald, newly sensitised, bright-pink skin. ‘I want you to be absolutely perfect for my guest.’

  ‘Me too. Is he …? I don’t know what to ask. What sort of man is he, Ms Amanda?’

  ‘You’ve met him – he’s Trevor, our office building’s security man.’

  ‘Oh? He’s a big one. I didn’t know that you knew him, not socially.’

  ‘More than “socially”,’ Amanda corrected with a smile. ‘He’s been very helpful to me, Nola, in all sorts of ways. You are to be my “thank you present” to him, because you are the very best toy in the whole world.’

  ‘Thank you!’ Nola smiled so wide her adorable dimples made her cheeks even more apple-like than usual. ‘I’ve never been a “thank you present” before.’ She giggled. ‘I like it!’

  ‘I thought you would.’ Amanda sprinkled pink-tinted talcum over Nola’s mound and brushed it off. ‘I can’t believe you and Trevor were never … introduced,’ she commented.

  ‘Oh. I dunno. I wasn’t there after five much, except when … Roger …’ Her voice trailed off and her face, just a moment earlier the picture of sunniness, clouded over.

 

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