BSS-610 House Of Evil by Robert Desmond


Chapter One


"Just take your time, my dear, and try to pretend I'm not even in the 
room with you," George Blackwell instructed the stunningly beautiful 
redhead with a slight chuckle. "I'll simply be working in here for 
awhile."

"Yes sir," Nadalee Parker replied in a soft, shy voice, nodding sweetly 
as she bent down to dust a bookshelf a few feet away from where her new 
employer sat behind a huge mahogany desk, his intelligent but somehow 
disturbing gaze seeming to bore straight through the sheerness of her 
white maid's uniform. She felt a cold shiver run through her, as though 
his eyes were stripping her bare, and the very fact of his assurance 
that she should pay no attention to him because he was "working," made 
her feel all the more uncomfortable in his presence. For he was not 
working at all but only sitting there, almost leering at her, glancing 
up and down the length of her body with a strange sort of approving 
smile on his stern-featured face. Her hand trembled inadvertently as 
she swiped along the tops of the books with the feather-duster and she 
suddenly found herself unable to concentrate on what she was doing from 
one moment to the next.

Jesus, what an innocent, juicy young bitch! George thought to himself 
as he ogled his new maid's lush, girlish figure. She was almost like a 
toy, a sexy little eighteen-year-old toy, with long copper-red hair and 
big fluttery emerald-green eyes. And man, he was glad now that he had 
allowed his wife, Dolores, to talk him into buying Nadalee the 
"uniform" she was wearing. It was a lacy blouse and a kind of little-
girl pinafore with a tucked-in waist and a short skirt that accentuated 
every inch of the lovely girl's body, from the deep cleavage showing 
between her large, firm, white breasts to the taper of her slender 
waist and the rounded outward curve of her luscious hips that sloped to 
her long full-swelling thighs and, lower, to her well-formed calves and 
ankles.... Hell, yes, she was absolutely mouth-watering to look at! He 
could hardly wait to get his hands and mouth on those ripe young curves 
and bring her to a pitch of passion that would make her beg for what he 
could certainly give her when she was ready. But she had to be ready, 
he reminded himself, or his ambitious plans for her in the future might 
never be fully realized. Still, though, he decided, it could not hurt 
anything now to relish her choiceness from a distance. He involuntarily 
drew in his breath at the sight of her sweet chasteness. There was no 
denying that there was something especially vulnerable about Nadalee, 
in that almost naked expression on her face that made her look as if 
she required protection from everything around her and that she was the 
kind of girl around whom men automatically watched their language and 
probably usually felt guilty about even desiring. After all, she looked 
so pure, so thoroughly innocent, so untouched by the tough 
sophistication of big city life and the fast types of people that he 
and Dolores had left behind them in San Francisco. But there was 
something more too, something deeper and excitingly sensual, an innate 
sexuality in her that seemed to be just begging to be exploited to the 
fullest. Well, by Christ, he was just the man to do it, he gloated 
inwardly, thinking with pride of himself as one of those rare, rare 
exceptions-a man whose own perversity and lust were points of genuine 
honor in his mind.


End of Page 1. See bss-610.txt for full story.