Madge was ready for Quincy when he arrived at the club. She wore a midnight-blue silk blouse and jeans. Underneath, she was naked as a baby’s behind. Her partial nudeness was her only means of getting undressed quickly. She knew once she administered the doctored sweet tea, she wouldn’t have any problem disrobing. She felt almost giddy with anticipation.
“Why, don’t you look all tuckered out,” Madge said as Quincy walked into the club with a basket of vegetables.
“Been a long day, Miss Calhoun,” he said. “Where should I put these?”
“Oh, you can just bring them into my office.”
“Your office? That’s a little strange, don’t you think?”
Madge laughed. “How much do I owe you?” she asked.
She could see that Quincy kept his eyes on her every move. She grinned, knowing he couldn’t resist looking at her naked breasts underneath the top of her blouse. She had crammed her wide, pear-shaped body into a pair of skintight jeans. The crotch area displaced her fat mound, and the front of her female cove ended up looking like a split pig’s foot.
“Nothing, Miss Calhoun. You worked for it this morning.”
“Aren’t you a nice man,” she said, leaning over so Quincy could see her ample breasts. “I heard you’re well-known in the community.” The seductive tactics Madge usually used seemed to go over Quincy’s head. He didn’t even look at her exposed breasts all that much, though he did look. Now he was looking her straight in the face.
Quincy reached out to give her the basket of vegetables. Madge didn’t move out of the way. She made sure their bodies made contact. She maneuvered her body in such a way so he could smell the overpowering perfume she was wearing. Her gaze held him in check.
Quincy stepped back out of her reach. Madge reached out to stop his movements, but he moved too fast for her. She managed to get to the door before he did.
Quincy stopped in his tracks. Madge had barred his exit. “Miss Calhoun, would you please step aside?”
“I’ll never hurt you, Quincy,” said Madge. “You’re different from most of the men I’ve met.”
Walking up to him, Madge placed her hands on his hard chest. She reached up in an attempt to pull his face down so she could kiss him. But Quincy recoiled more quickly than she’d expected.
He wouldn’t play her little game. “Miss Calhoun, I’ll take my leave now.”
Marge looked astonished. No man had ever refused her advances. She knew she had to quickly change the subject, or her hopes of marrying him were gone. “In a man’s world, all business transactions are sealed with a drink or a cigar. Since you and I don’t smoke, this sweet tea should suffice.”
Madge knew exactly what was going to happen once the chloral hydrate drops she’d put in Quincy’s drink had kicked in. She had diligently planned everything in advance. She was finally going to have sex with him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew what she was doing could be described as rape. But she preferred to think of it as helping Quincy help himself to something he was too passive to take on his own.
“Miss Calhoun, are you trying to seduce me? Well, I’ll drink the sweet tea, but nothing stronger.”
“Yes,” she laughed sensuously. “You do cut a fine figure, Quincy.” Madge strolled back across the room and poured a glass of iced tea for him. The tea she already poured was the one with the drug in it and the new one she poured was for herself. She needed to be careful to surreptitiously switch the two glasses.
Quincy accepted the glass and took a big gulp. After consuming the entire glass, he spoke. “Thank you. Miss Calhoun. Have a nice day.”
“You’re very welcome, Quincy,” Madge replied. She knew it was imperative to act normal. The chloral hydrate was a fast-acting drug. It’d be a matter of minutes before Quincy felt the side effects, and shortly thereafter, he’d be rendered completely incapacitated.
Madge thought, I remembered reading about the origins of the term Mickey Finn and my hidden camera. Being a ruthless person, I’ve finally realized that drugging people’s drinks could work very well to my advantage.
Oftentimes, Madge used Mickey Finns on many out-of¬town high rollers who frequented her club. She especially loved administering the drug to married customers. Now and then, she’d run across someone who threatened to file charges against her for doctoring the patron’s drink. She’d always found a way to parlay their intentions.
She’d installed a hidden camera in her trench coat that she used to take pictures of the men she drugged. A hidden lever cord, concealed under her coat, went directly to the button camera. Madge used a long lever to adjust the aperture setting for the camera lens. Her camera was considered high-tech according to the salesperson who’d sold it to her.
Madge was a hard-nosed businesswoman who would go to any lengths to keep her business above reproach. If someone attempted to create a problem, she’d present appalling pictures of them making love. Most of the time, the men were staged to look like they were engaging in sexual behavior with her.
Madge followed Quincy to the door facing the parking lot. She watched him through the window to ensure that he didn’t attempt to drive off before the drug kicked in. She’d planned to intercept him with a reminder about something if need be. She rushed back to her office, and prepared another glass of the doctored tea. She knew in his condition, Quincy would be unable to drive home. She assumed he’d return to the club to pull himself together.
Quincy walked out of Madge’s office with the satisfaction of knowing he’d avoided all her seduction methods. The heavy scent of her perfume permeated the club area, giving him a strong determination to get away from her quickly. He never noticed Madge looking at him as he struggled to get to his pickup. If he’d seen the disdainful expression on her face, it would have made his skin crawl. He swallowed hard. The effort was hurting his throat, which left a strange foreign taste in his mouth, so bitter it made him gag. What in the world is wrong with me?
When he got to his truck, he sat quietly for a few minutes. I must be more tired than I thought. Damn, I’m so dizzy. He didn’t know whether or not he was having a heart attack. So he decided he had better return to the club and call Adam to come get him because he was unable to drive back home. He slowly got out of his truck and staggered back to the door.
He knocked softly. “Miss Calhoun, I’m a little under the weather. I need to rest for a minute until I clear my head.”
“Please come in. Do you want me to call someone?”
“No, Miss Calhoun. I’ll just sit here for a few minutes.” Quincy wasn’t sure what had happened, but he did know one thing he—he’d been fine until he got to Madge’s club.
“Don’t be silly. Just lie down until you feel better.”
“Lie down where?” Quincy asked. He felt very strange, even a little sick. His eyes widened as he saw Madge stroll over to her desk and push a button. The wall to her secret room opened up, and a queen-size bed moved on wheels into the room.
“What is this?” Quincy asked.
“I want you to get comfortable,” Madge said.
Quincy wanted to run out of the office, but he felt so weak. He let her help him to the bed.
“What’s happening to me?” he asked, a hint of panic in his voice.
“Why, I don’t know, Quincy! What do you think is happening?”
“I don’t know. I just feel funny.”
He felt the room spinning, so he lay back on the pillow and closed his eyes.
In the distance, he heard Madge talking. “Drink your iced tea.” She laughed as she poured more doctored tea down his throat. “Be a good boy and drink it.”
Quincy tried to spit the foul-tasting liquid out of his mouth. He felt his throat constrict, feeling the liquid gushing back in his mouth. Why was she forcing him to drink the tea? After drinking the entire glass, he spoke. “What are you doing? Get your hands off me!”
“Let me get those clothes off you,” Madge said. Her voice sounded far away, but he could feel Madge’s hands all over him; he couldn’t do anything to stop her. “No, Miss Calhoun. I don’t need to get undressed.”
He heard Madge laugh and felt her push his hands aside and began undressing him as quickly as she could. She couldn’t get him completely nude, so she pulled his pants down to his thighs. She needed his nether region completely exposed. She didn’t want her ass to get snagged by his zipper.
After getting him semi-naked, Madge intended to bring him to full arousal. She saw that he was heavily endowed. He’s probably great in bed, she thought. He sure had the right equipment to get the job done. After my pregnancy, I might even keep him around. Old boy is packing a wallop!
After Madge got Quincy fully erect, she mounted him and began moving slowly. She grabbed his nipples and rubbed them between her fingers. “Oh baby this feels so damn good.” Gradually, she hurried her movements. After riding him for a while, she began enjoying herself.
Madge had once read an article about a woman’s ovulation. She knew getting pregnant was all about timing. The conditions were right for her egg to meet Quincy’s sperm now.
She rode him hard for twenty more minutes. When she dismounted, she noticed Quincy was no longer fully erect. She went to the bathroom to clean up.
Damn, I’m still horny as a Billy goat. I got this stud in my bed that couldn’t come even if I called him. I need someone to take the edge off. Ain’t this some shit. I hadn’t planned on him not being a good lay. I need a man to screw me like I stole something.
Madge got dressed. She was horny and unsatisfied by her actions. She knew she was ripe for some serious lovemaking, but no other man could give her what she wanted—respectability.
She thought about the liquor she’d doctored up at Adam’s house. She’d heard talk in her club that Adam was a very good lover. Tonight, she was going to find out for herself whether he could work it or not.
I’m going to get Quincy home and then mosey over to Adam’s place for a nightcap. I’ll just peep in his window to see if he has been drinking. If he has, I’m home free. She needed to get her sexual edge off. I can’t wait one hour for him to gain consciousness. He’s going to have one hell of a headache when he wakes up.
After each encounter with her father’s friends, the men always made her wash her private parts before leaving her bedroom. Over the years, she’d adopted the same practice with all her lovers. She didn’t think twice about cleaning Quincy’s private parts. Damn, with all that meat, Quincy won’t remember the encounter. It never occurred to her that she was washing away all the evidence of their sexual encounter.
Besides, she had convinced herself that Quincy would take her word as gospel and believe that they had made love. Just in case he needed some convincing, though, she took pictures of him in his current compromised position.
Under different circumstances, she’d have enjoyed making love to him. She’d screwed men of different sizes. Quincy’s filled her slit of ecstasy to capacity.
Making love? I raped Quincy. Madge couldn’t get the thought out of her head. She quietly walked back and forth. She couldn’t believe what a dilemma she was in concerning Quincy. She thought about the Mickey Finn in her purse. For the first time, she didn’t know whether she’d administered too much of the drug.
She reached into her bag and withdrew the vial. She began reading the instructions carefully. Oh hell. I gave him four drops too many. She’d expected Quincy to be out for one hour. Now, two hours later, he was still unconscious. Madge walked back to her chair facing the bed. She needed to make sure Quincy didn’t create any problems for her. Slowly, she rose again and walked to her closet. She withdrew her wrinkled trench coat and put it on. She began staging him for the picture. She groped down in his boxers, lifted his male organ, and then positioned it in an indecent manner.
I’m having all this fun by myself. Well, Quincy, if you weren’t such a prude, we could have made love the normal way. You were acting so damn pious and uppity. Now, just look at you.
For the next hour, Madge took pictures of Quincy in different sexual poses. She was getting hot just looking at his big, brown rod. She almost began salivating each time she handled it. Under different circumstances, she believed they could fall in love. Fall in love. What the hell is wrong with me? Love isn’t in my forecast. I just need a good man who can give me some legitimacy. Why do I have to stoop to this level to get what I want? I want a husband who is well-respected in this community.
The only person to fit that bill was Quincy Bryce.
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