~Subject: FANTASIA: The Animal  (mf, nc)
~From: an117711@anon.penet.fi

                  * * * * * * * * * * * * *
                         THE ANIMAL
                      by V.P. Viddler

    The note said: "You will suck this man off on your knees in the
middle of your office."

   Jill saw that it was Morris's handwriting. Naturally.

   The man who had handed Jill this note stood now in front of her
desk, saying nothing. He was big and bald and grossly fat, with a
face like that of a pig.

   Jill felt faint.

   Morris.

   If she could only--

   Jill swallowed, hard. Without looking at the man, she said,
trying to hold her voice steady, "I suppose you know what this
says."

   "Yeah," the man said.

   Jill took a long breath, trying to stay calm, to hold back any
tears, to stop her body from shaking with rage and shame and hatred
and humiliation.

   Not that Morris hadn't pulled stunts like this before. Not that
Morris would not do it again. Morris thought up all kinds of things
for Jill to do, to show her how much power he had over her, to show
her how he could grind her into dust, to show how far Jill had to
degrade herself for him, to act as his plaything, a toy for him to-
-

   Jill pushed a button on her intercom. "JoAnn. No calls."

   "Yes, Miss Nillson."

   Jill sat still for a long moment. Then she said, "Lock the
door."

   The man went to the office door and did so. Jill stood up,
moving slowly around her desk. Jill was wearing a blue silk blouse
and a tan skirt which came to her knees. At least Morris's note had
not said anything about having to undress for him. Swallowing
again, Jill walked to the center of her office, conscious of the
man's eyes on her body, conscious of her round breasts taut against
the tight blouse, of her slim, supple calves (no stockings--she
didn't wear stockings) rippling as she moved, the snug skirt
outlining the sensuousness of her thighs, as she came to where he
stood, waiting.

   Jill stood in front of him. She tried to look him in the eyes,
but could not. Jill took another breath and sank down to her knees
on the floor.

   The man did nothing, but stood waiting. Jill had to open his fly
and pull out his phallus, which was hard with anticipation. Jill
bowed her head and took it slowly into her mouth.

   The man grunted.

   Jill began to suck him.

   She knew she had to do a good job, to make it enjoyable for him,
for Morris would certainly ask him all about it, and if Morris was
not satisfied that Jill had given it all she had--Jill did not want
to think about that. So she did it slowly, carefully, making it
good for him, licking at that stiff phallus with her tongue as she
sucked it, moving her soft mouth around on him as her head bobbed
slowly up and down, taking him all the way into her mouth until she
almost gagged as the tip of it stuck in her throat.

   The man was grunting, grunting, loudly, rhythmically. Still Jill
did what she had to do, gradually sucking faster, trying to
coordinate her rhythm with the rising tempo of his grunting. Morris
could keep her sucking him for hours if he wanted to, but this man
was swiftly losing his control. Obviously he was going to climax in
her mouth. Must she swallow it? Morris's note had not said that,
but probably, she thought despairingly, it was automatically
assumed that she would know that that was what she must do. So as
the fat man arched his body, pushing his hips forward, shoving his
crotch hard against her face, and his gism spurted out into her
throat as his piggish grunts turned into a shout of ecstasy, Jill
took it all, swallowing it down, gulping to keep pace with the gobs
of copious gism that shot from his spasming phallus into her
docilely accepting mouth.

    Jill Nillson sat again at her desk in her office at McKnight
and Dallis Publishing Company, of which she was an associate. Jill
was twenty-four, tall, with long brown hair, slim but with a
lusciously rounded body, full breasts and long shapely legs.
Looking at her, with her soft pretty face and air of authority and
control, nobody could have thought of her as she had been that
morning, kneeling on the floor with her mouth full of a stranger's
phallus, at the command of a man she loathed.

   Jill's intercom sounded.

   "Yes, JoAnn?"

   "Miss Nillson--Arthur wants to see you. Shall I send him in?"

   "Arthur?" Arthur was McKnight and Dallis's office boy, a
gangling, grinning youth, with whom Jill had never had much to do.
"All right."

   Arthur soon was in the room, closing the door behind him. "You
got a minute, Miss Nillson?" Grinning.

   "Of course, Arthur. Sit down."

   Arthur sat. Jill waited, but Arthur just sat and said nothing.

   "Is there something I can do for you, Arthur?"

   "Yeah," Arthur said. "There sure is, Miss Nillson."

   "What is it?" Jill said, puzzled and a bit annoyed.

   "I'll tell you," Arthur said. "You can do for me just what you
did for that guy you had in here this morning."

   Jill, staring at him, felt her stomach turn over. "What?" she
said faintly.

   "For a start," Arthur said.

   Jill's head was swimming. She had to get hold of her mind.
"What--what are you talking about?"

   "Come on now, Miss Nillson. You know, all right. I saw you, you
know."

   "You--you saw--"

   "That's right. All of it. And damn, it looked good, too," Arthur
said, grinning.

   "I--" Jill said. "I--wait--I don't--"

   "You didn't know about the setup, did you?" Arthur said. "Not
many do any more. It was put in way back. But I know, okay?"

   "Set up?"

   "I watch all the time," Arthur said. "But till now I didn't see
anything much. But you just never know, right?"

   Jill was faint. "You--you watched--you saw--"

   "Right. But don't worry, Miss Nillson. I'm gonna keep it to
myself, okay? I'm a clam, and you can count on that. As long as
you're nice to me."

   "What? Why, you--you filthy-- Are you trying--"

   "Now calm down," Arthur said. "It's not like you're a virgin,
Miss Nillson."

   "You get out of here," Jill said. "Right now."

   "Not so fast," Arthur said. "What if I go talk to Mr. Dallis
about this, hmm? I'll bet even old McKnight would be fascinated.
How long do you think you'd be working here, Miss Nillson?"

   "You filthy bastard!" Jill said. "You can't blackmail me! Who do
you think you are? Nobody will believe a damn thing you say about
me. You scum! Did you really think I would--for you--"

   "I guess," Arthur said, "you didn't know about the camera
either, did you?"

   "Camera?"

   Now Arthur got up, taking something from his jacket pocket,
walking toward the cabinet on one wall, fiddling with her VCR
machine. "Watch," Arthur said.

   In a moment Jill sat frozen as an image appeared on the screen--
it was her, standing in front of the fat man. Now she was going
down onto her knees. Now she was undoing his fly. And now she was
taking him into her mouth and--

   "Oh god!" Jill said. "Oh dear god, no!"

   "Good picture, isn't it?" Arthur said.

   "Stop it!" Jill said. "Turn it off!"

   "But it's so great," Arthur said. "I don't want to stop watching
it. God, look at that!"

   Jill, shaking, wanted to go and turn it off herself, but she
couldn't; as if paralyzed, she had to sit there and watch herself
sucking that fat pig's penis, watch as Arthur was watching, watch
that bobbing head, that moving mouth, that kneeling, servile body.

   "Stop it," Jill said, choking, almost panting. "Please. Please
stop it."

   "No way," Arthur said, and Jill hid her eyes with her hand, but
still she could hear the sound, the grunting sounds from the man,
and other laborious sounds from herself. Until again the fat man
shouted his climax, and Jill in spite of her shame found herself
gazing again at the sight of her, gulping, abasing herself, as his
gism shot into her throat.

   "Christ!" Arthur said. "Look at that! Look how you're swallowing
it all! Christ!"

   And Arthur now took the tape back, putting it away again in his
pocket. Jill couldn't speak, couldn't do anything.

   "Now," Arthur said. "If I was to show this thing to Dallis or
McKnight, okay? Or maybe take it to the gossip columnists or--
hell, I can think of all sorts of people who would love to--"

   "What--what do you want?" Jill said.

   It was not a very bright question.

   "I told you, Miss Nillson," Arthur said. "I want what he got.
And a lot more."

   "You filthy son of a bitch," Jill said softly.

   "I think I'm going to have a lot of fun with you, Miss Nillson.
Say--can I call you Jill now? I mean, since we're going to be so
close and all."

   "Now, wait," Jill said. "If--if you think you can just blackmail
me into-- Oh, no. No."

   "Okay," Arthur said. "I'm sorry about that, Jill, but a lot of
people are going to be damn happy about it. At least I'll probably
get rich with this tape. So long, Miss Nillson." Arthur got up and
went to the door.

   Jill said nothing.

   Arthur put his hand on the doorknob, turning it.

   Jill sat very still.

   Arthur pulled the door open.

   "Wait," Jill said.

   Arthur closed the door again and turned to look at Jill. Jill
was trembling. There was a long pause. And finally Jill said, "Lock
the door."

   Jill saw a triumphant glitter in Arthur's eyes. She felt cold.

   "Ask me," Arthur said.

   "What?" Jill was confused.

   "Ask me to do that, Jill," Arthur said.

   "Ask you--"

   "Ask me to lock the door. Ask me nicely. In fact, beg me to do
it."

   "Now wait--"

   "Beg me, Jill," Arthur said. "On your knees."

   Jill sat still. "What are you--you bastard--"

   "I'm waiting," Arthur said.

   Jill almost said no. But she didn't.

   After a long moment she got up from her chair, and walked slowly
around to the side of her desk. She bit at her lip, her hands
clenching into fists. Then, slowly, Jill sank down to her knees.

   "Please," Jill said, hating him, hating herself for giving in to
this degradation. "I beg you. Lock the door."

   Arthur did so.

   Now, Jill thought, he'll want what he saw on the tape. But
Arthur moved back to his chair in front of her desk, and sat  down.

   "I like you that way, Jill," Arthur said, grinning. "You really
look sexy like that. But we'll go back to that. Right now I want to
see your body. All of it."

   "You're scum," Jill said.

   "Now, Jill," Arthur said. "What I want you to do right now is to
sit up here on the desk. Okay?"

   Jill got up slowly. "Look," she said. "If I do this--if I do
what you want--will you give me that tape and--"

   "No bargains, Jill," Arthur said. "You're not in a bargaining
position, okay? You just be a good girl and do what I tell you, and
as long as you do this tape will stay with me. Okay?"

   "But--but you can't just--blackmail me forever!"

   "Can't I?"

   "Oh, god. Look, if you--"

   "I'm tired of talking, Jill. Maybe we can talk about this later.
If you're a good girl. Okay? Now I want you to sit up here on the
edge of this desk, facing me. Go on."

   "Bastard," Jill said. But she did it, sitting on her desk,
facing him. Arthur slid his chair closer to her, until her lower
legs, dangling from the desk's edge, almost touched his knees. Now
Arthur took one of her legs in his hand, placing it on his lap,
pulling off her shoe.

   "Now this is nice," Arthur said, and he ran his hand slowly up
Jill's curving calf all the way to her knee. "This is what I call
nice." His hand slid further up, onto her thigh, going under her
skirt, stroking the soft, smooth skin on the inside of her thigh.
Jill flinched momentarily.

   "Hold still, Miss Nillson," Arthur said softly. "Jill. Just hold
still."

   "Damn you," Jill said.

   Arthur's hand continued to touch her thigh, stroking, caressing,
exploring, then moving back down to her calf again.

   "You know what I want now, Jill?" Arthur said.

   Jill said nothing.

   "I want to look at your breasts."

   Jill said nothing. Her hands clutched the desk on both sides of
her. Her body was rigid.

   "You have such fine-looking breasts," Arthur said. "I always
wanted to know what they look like naked. Now I'm going to find
out. Isn't that right, Jill?"

   Jill said nothing.

   "Show them to me," Arthur said.

   "Arthur," Jill said after a moment. "Arthur, look. What if I
just--I could--"

   "Show them to me," Arthur said.

   "You filthy son of a bitch," Jill said slowly. Then she brought
her hands up to the front of her blouse, and began to unbutton it.
The buttons parted one by one, until the blouse was open. Avoiding
Arthur's staring eyes, Jill pulled it out of her waistband, and
then slid it off.

   Arthur's gaze was burning through her black brassiere. "Don't
stop," Arthur said. "Let me see them."

   "I hate you for this," Jill said, her hands going in back of
her, opening the bra clasps. "I'll kill you for this, I swear it."
And she slid the straps from her shoulders and took the bra off.

   "God damn!" Arthur said. "Aren't they something! Christ, look at
those pretty pink nipples poking out. All stiff and all. Man, what
a body. I gotta see it all. Show it to me, Jill. Just stand up
here, right in front of me, and take it all off, okay?"

   Jill slid off the desk, standing right in front of Arthur's
chair. "You won't get away with this," Jill said. "You won't. I can
get back at you, Arthur. And I will."

   "Jill--"

   Jill took off her skirt.

   "Fantastic legs," Arthur said. "Go on."

   Jill slid her panties down. She was naked.

   Arthur was almost panting now, his gaze moving up and down her
body. "Turn around," Arthur said hoarsely. "Turn around and bend
over that desk."

   Not truly realizing what Arthur was planning, Jill did what he
said.

   "All the way down, Jill baby," Arthur said, and pushed at Jill's
back until she was bent forward sharply from the hips, with her
breasts mashing against the desk's surface and her buttocks
thrusting out and back. But as Arthur, first unzipping his pants
and pulling out his stiffly throbbing penis, put his hands on those
round, firm buttocks and pulled them widely apart, Jill began to
struggle vainly to push him away. 

   "No!" Jill said loudly. "No! Not that way!"

   "This way," Arthur said, and Jill could feel his hard tool
probing at her anus.

   "Oh god, not like that, please!" Jill said frantically. "Don't!
You bastard! No!"

   But Arthur was not stopping, and suddenly Jill shrieked in pain
as his phallus forced itself pst her anal sphinctre, and sank
slowly but forcefully into her tight passage. Jill was howling and
pounding on the desk with her fists. As Arthur lunged at her,
panting loudly.

   It didn't last long. Arthur gave a mighty shout and shot up into
her, again and again and again. Now he lay across her back, still
panting, mashing her breasts into the hard wood. Jill was crying.

   "Filthy pig!" Jill said, sobbing. "Maggot! I'll have you killed,
Arthur, I swear I will."

   Arthur suddenly stood up, and Jill collapsed to the floor at his
feet. Arthur lay down on his back and said, "Suck it for me, Jill.
Suck it real nice, like you did for that fat guy."

   "Oh god," Jill said. "You are--please. At least wash it first.
Please."

   "No," Arthur said. "You suck it just like it is, Jill darling.
All dirty from your ass. That's gonna make it extra good."

   "I can't," Jill said.

   Arthur took hold of Jill's long brown hair and forcibly pulled
her head to his crotch. "Do it," Arthur commanded, twisting hard at
her hair. "Take it in that sexy mouth and suck on it till it's hard
again, and then do it until you make me shoot down your throat, and
then swallow it, just like you did on that tape. Remember that
tape, Jill?" Twisting, twisting at her hair.

   "All right," Jill said, moaning and gasping. "All right! I'll do
it!"

   And she did.

   Arthur cried out with joy as that mouth took him in, and Jill,
obeying his commands, used her mouth and lips and tongue on him,
licking, tasting, kissing, sucking, making it last, drawing it out,
until Arthur had to spurt it all into her mouth. And Jill swallowed
and swallowed and swallowed.

   But still Arthur was not done.

   "Crawl, Jill," Arthur said. "Crawl for me."

   God, he was worse than Morris. "No," Jill said.

   "Do it," Arthur said.

   "I won't, damn you!" Jill said. "I don't care what you do. You
can make me give you my body. My mouth. But I won't crawl for you.
I'm not an animal. You hear? I'm a human. Not an animal. Not for
you."

    But Morris didn't kill Arthur, as Jill had thought he would.
Instead, Morris came to her office and called Arthur in and praised
him, as Jill looked on in horror. And when Morris was told of
Jill's refusal to crawl, he told Jill she must be punished.

   "No!" Jill said. "No. Please. Morris, I--"

   "Stand up, Jill," Morris said.

   Jill stood. Shaking.

   "Please," Jill said.

   Morris was holding his thin, vicious riding crop.

   "Morris, no. Not in front of--"

   "Lift your skirt, Jill."

   "Please, oh please--"

   "Jill. Lift your skirt."

   Jill pulled her skirt high up on her thighs.

   Morris swung his whip and it cracked across Jill's thighs, two
inches above the knees.

   "Ahhh!" Jill said. But didn't let go of her skirt. She knew
better.

   Morris swung again. Crack! Higher on her thighs.

   "AAAGGHH!"

   Again.

   "Aaauuugghhh! Stop! Please stop! Please! No more!"

   Crack!

   "AIIIIEEEEE!"

   "Will you crawl for us, Jill?"

   "Oh Jesus god, please--"

   Crack!

   "HAAUUUGGHH! No! Stop! Please stop, oh god, I can't--"

   "Will you crawl for us, Jill?"

   "Yes."

   "Yes what?"

   "I will. I'll crawl, I'll crawl, all right?"

   Crack!

   "HAUUUGHHH! NOOO! I will, I'll crawl, I'll crawl, I'll do it,
all right, I'll crawl for you, please--"

   "Do it, Jill," Morris said.

   And Jill did. Crawling for them on hands and knees, crawling
around the room, debasing herself for them, sobbing.

   Arthur said, "So you're not an animal, huh, Jill? Look at you
now."

   "Of course she is," Morris said. "Aren't you, Jill? Tell us."

   "Yes," Jill said.

   "Tell us what you are," Morris said, and slashed the riding crop
across Jill's back.

   "AARRRRGHHH! I'm an animal! I am! I'm an animal! An animal! I
am."

   "Jill," Morris said, "from now on I want you to fuck for Arthur
any time he wants you. You understand, Jill?"

   Jill said nothing, but her head bowed in despair.

   "Arthur won't need that tape," Morris said. "You'll do as he
says because I tell you to. Anything he says. You'll fuck him and
suck him--and crawl for him--any time he wants, any way he wants.
Won't you, Jill?"

   Jill was sobbing. "Yes," Jill said.

   "Tell Arthur you're his slave," Morris said.

   "I'm your slave, Arthur," Jill said.

   "Arthur," Morris said. "Why don't you sit in that chair and
we'll have Jill sit on your lap and fuck you."

   So Arthur sat in the chair, and Jill, following Morris's orders,
sat facing him, straddling his lap, with her curvy legs hanging
down on both sides, and took his stiff tool into her vagina, and
began rhythmically to move up and down on him.

   "Kiss him, Jill," Morris said. "As sweetly and as sexily as only
you can."

   And Jill, swallowing, brought her mouth to Arthur's and kissed
him, with moving lips and probing tongue, panting into his mouth.
And Morris said, "Don't stop fucking, Jill," and struck her across
the back with his whip. And Morris struck again and again and
again, whipping Jill mercilessly, as Jill still moved her body up
and down against Arthur's, kissing him, jerking and squirming and
writhing and screaming into his mouth, screaming and bouncing and
jamming that body into him, those breasts squirming, giving him her
body, her mouth, her soul, screaming...