What
do you do when you’re a rich pervert, bored with sitting back in your
armchair, resting your boots on a beautiful young Russian woman?
The woman, incidentally, is pretending to be a coffee table. Not
for fun, but because she’s gagged, plugged, has clips biting into her
nipples and would be cruelly flogged if she complained. Now maybe
that doesn’t sound too boring to a pervert. But it was to Latino
mafia boss Leopoldo Sanchez.
He
wanted another beautiful woman. So he picked up the phone and rang
Greg, who drives a black taxi.
Lynn
Simpson knew nothing of such matters. At that moment she was
dancing in a fashionable disco in the port district. Lynn was in a
dream. She was becoming well-known as a model. She’d been
on TV a lot, swinging down the catwalk, her large breasts (in fashion
again, she was lucky) wobbling under the latest see-through designer
blouses…
Her
mistake was, she was dancing alone and never noticed when her friends
got tired and drifted off home in small, separate groups. None of
them noticed either. They thought she’d already gone home.
When
Lynn realized, she asked the doorman to get her a cab. The doorman
rang Greg. Things would be different for Lynn from now on…
From
that moment, her much-admired body was no longer hers. It didn’t
even belong to the mass TV audiences and paper tissue manufactures.
It belonged to Greg, and then later to Sanchez… Sanchez was
pleased. He had his matching pair now -an all American blonde and
a Russian brunette- and a headful of fantasies that for most people
would remain just fantasies…
Magnificent,
crystal sharp, full-color drawings by Wayne Wine bring this world of
demented sexual abuse to life…
___________________
Lynn
doesn't like the place. "There’s just a bunch of
jerks inside. Get me a taxi!"

The
taxi is a trap...


The
driver takes his prey to his secret hideaway...

...and
hell starts for the young model...

Nasty
customers come to check on the merchandise...

Lynn
is finally sold and delivered to Senor Sanchez...

DON'T
MISS
TAXI TO HELL