Front:
Fear of a horrible scandal and loss of a handsome fortune-these are the main actions involved in the necessity for the
strange and warped actions of: Sandra Shaw-a 28 year-old hellion, also a step-mother; unbelievably beautiful, cunning,
insanely and intensely vicious with only sex and murder on her mind. Marla Stewart-young, sensuous; yet with a strong
desire for women and the sound of leather searing the soft flesh of those around her. Jim Bartlett-Sandra's stepson,
naive, sensitive and frightened. Living in a house with two women, both diseased with corruption and immorality. His
young mind and spirit weakened, almost destroyed by the female domination, discipline, and exposure to all types of
perversions and depravity. Mrs. Adams-the next door neighbor, social threat, submissive target, and finally the victim. A
frightening novel about those unknown, unspoken, abnormal desires and those who willingly submit to them. "You're
crazy," she screamed. "You don't want Jim. He's downstairs. He killed her. I didn't have anything to do with it." "Nice
try, Mrs. bartlett. You almost got away with it." "What are you talkin' about?" Smiling, Dick advanced toward her and
forced her to back all the way into the living room where Marla, still wearing just bra and panties saw all the eyes of the
men moving over her body. "Hello Jim," the detective greeted the boy as he walked into the room. "You did a great
job. We have everything on tape." "Did you get enough?" "More than enough. While you were downstairs, they were
discussing how to kill you, so that it would look like suicide." With a poised smile, Jim walked over to the table and
picked up his watch. He handed it to the detective. "I guess you'll want your transmitter back. Thanks for the use of it.
In fact, thanks for everything." "Don't mention it, Jim. You know, with this kind of training, maybe you'll decide to be
a detective some day." "Maybe I will at that," the boy answered. The detectives took the two women in the bedroom to
get dressed for the trip to the station. For a moment, Jim considered following for one last look at the two lush bodies.
He changed his mind. After all, he reasoned, I've seen plenty of them. Let the cops enjoy a private show of their own.
Jim suddenly felt very, very good. He was glad the detective told him the women planned to kill him, now he wouldn't
have to bother feeling sorry for them. Roped Rendezvous by Myron Kosloff, 1968. Frederator No. 19
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