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"I'll write you a check," he said, reaching for his pen. Sue would pay.
Oh, she would pay!
"While you have your checkbook out, I'd like to ask you if you collect art?"
"Art?" Ryan asked, puzzled.
"Yes ... you know ... pretty pictures.
"Oh, Frank, please ... you don't have to do that!" Miss De La Court broke in.
"Shut the fuck up, Glenda!" Hammer snapped. "I'll ask for your opinion when I want it!"
"But Frank ... he's already agreed to pay!"
"Shut up, cunt!" Hammer roared.
Glenda lapsed into a frightened silence. Ryan realized she had been looking very strained since the two
of them had come in. Obviously she didn't like what Hammer was doing. Ryan immediately sensed an
ally.
"What pictures are you talking about?" Ryan asked woodenly. He sensed disaster was about to crash
down on his head.
For an answer, Hammer took a thick packet of color photographs out of a pocket and tossed them onto
the desk. Then he sat back and calmly lit a cigarette. His eyes never left Ryan's face.
"Oh my God!"
Ryan's face paled. At first he had seen only naked figures, obviously making love. Then he recognized
his daughter, Sue. She was lying under a man in all the pictures. In some, he was eating her cunt. In
others his huge cock was skewering up into her blonde snatch. And from the expression on his
daughter's lust-filled face, she was loving it!
Ryan found himself admiring Sue's naked body. God, she was a beautiful girl. Then he caught himself.
There was something familiar about the man in the pictures. Ryan looked more closely at his face. It was
Hammer!
"You son-of-a-bitch!" he snarled, half rising. But the bigger, stronger Hammer pushed him back into his
seat.
"Don't get out of control," the big man said. "You piss me off, I'll use those pictures. I have a friend who
owns a skin magazine. He'd love to plaster your sweet little girl's tits and ass all over it. God, can she
fuck!"
Ryan collapsed back into his chair. "What do you want?" he asked in a tired, defeated voice.
"I own a lot of a certain stock. I think it's underpriced," Hammer said. He then went on to outline an
intricate plan for artificially forcing the price of the stock up. To do so, he needed a confederate with
access to the major stock markets. Ryan.
* * *
"But that's illegal!" Ryan burst out.
"Of course. That's why there's so much money in it."
In the end, Ryan had no choice but to agree. After his visitors left, he felt sick and defeated. For a
moment he admired the slickness of Hammer's plan. Almost wished he had the guts to try it himself.
But God, what a risk! If he were ever found out ...
The phone rang. His secretary had gone home so Ryan picked it up himself. "Hello," he said dully.
"Mr. Ryan," a low feminine voice said. "This is Glenda ... Glenda De La Court. I was in your office with
Mr. Hammer ..."
"Yes ... yes ...?"
"Oh, Mr. Ryan, I feel so bad about what Mr. Hammer's doing to you. And what he did to your
daughter. I ... he's got the same kind of hold over me. I want you to know I don't like him or the things
he does."
Ryan was intensely alert. "Can you help me?"
"I ... I think so. I know something about Frank ... Mr. Hammer, that might - Oh! Here he comes! Can
you meet me in an hour?"
Glenda quickly gave Ryan an address and hung up. He sank back into his chair, sweating. God, life had
suddenly become complicated!
* * *
An hour later, Henry Ryan approached a small house in the suburbs. His heart was hammering. He
hoped to hell something would happen to get him out of the mess his daughter had gotten him into.
It had not yet occurred to Ryan that Sue was as much a victim as he was. The expression on Sue's face
in the pictures had convinced him otherwise.
Glenda answered the door when he knocked. Her clothes made Ryan uncomfortable. She was wearing
incredibly short hot pants and a tie-around halter. Really only a scarf. Her nipples poked at the thin
material.
"Oh, Mr. Ryan ... I'm so glad you came," Glenda said eagerly.
She ushered Ryan into the living room, then sat down opposite him. He was aware that the legs of her
hot pants were very loose. He imagined he could see right up the crotch. He imagined for a moment she
wasn't wearing any underwear underneath and that darkness was her cunt. But no, it must be dark
panties, he decided.
"You had an idea for helping me," he gulped out. It was hard to take his eyes off Glenda's lovely, nearly
nude body.
"To help us both, Mr. Ryan. Frank has a hold over me too. I think I can get my hands on the negatives
of those pictures. And on the original markers. Then you'll be off the hook."
"How will that help you?" Ryan said suspiciously.
Glenda blushed. "I'll ... I'll need somebody to help me after I break away from Frank," Glenda said in a
low voice. "A ... a protector."
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