Girls' Nightmare Out Rogue Alan, 11/2000
She groaned, aware of harsh light leaking around the curtains into her face, & rolled to the other side. Her mind registered surprise-her husband wasn't in bed with her-& dim awareness of some discomfort. There were aches all over, as if she'd been working out especially hard the day before, but there was something. She blinked her eyes, looking around the familiar room, much more bright than it should have been in the morning. She checked the clock: 11:16! She sat up, again aware of a strange, almost painful pulling as the covers shifted on her chest. She pushed the covers down, scanning her naked body, eyes still bleary with sleep. Something glittered over her breast, at her left nipple. She was aware belatedly that the vague discomfort was emanating from there. She blinked again, struggled to focus, & gasped in shock: it was a nipple ring. She scrunched back beneath the covers, searching the room, desperate to know if her husband had seen. How had that happened? She covered her face & tried to recall the events of the past night. She'd been with Kathy, on their weekly `girls' night out.' She remembered leaving-she'd driven-but after that. Nothing. There was no other sound in the house, & she wondered if her ****** was gone for the day. She reached for the bedside phone to call Kathy-maybe she would have some insight into what they'd done. The shift to sitting as she reached for the phone reminded her of her achy body, though, & her bladder was complaining, so she pushed the covers back & rolled to her feet, staggering into the bathroom. Her breath caught on the cold tile, & she pranced to the mat by her vanity, looking at her torso in the mirror, then down at the real thing-the bright silver ring entered 1 side of her left nipple, emerging from the other & dropping in a small loop below the deep pink flesh. There was a tiny bead at the bottom, she guessed where the ring closed. She was surprised that there was no blood, & that the pain was minimal-more an awareness of something different than anything wrong-even when she tentatively reached up & shifted the ring. There was a drop of something clear & hard on the bead, & a little experimentation convinced her it would be better not to try to remove it, as the manipulation that required was painful, & she couldn't unseat the ring from the bead. Stepping back, she admitted privately it didn't look bad, keeping her usually flat nipple semi-erect, capping the firm, round breast nicely. She wondered what her husband would say. & what she would be able to tell him. Turning to the water closet, she moved onto the mat below the stool & sat down on the cold seat, sighing as she relieved herself. There seemed to be more fluid than usual dripping into the toilet, & she reached down, fingers absently moving through her pubic thatch, which she found had areas of hairs matted together in small tangles, as if she hadn't cleaned up after sex. More shocking, though, as she brought the toilet paper between her legs to wipe, was something hard, nestled between her labia. Melissa flipped the lights on, peering between her legs. She was shocked again, more deeply than before, to find a 2nd silver ring hanging from the mid-portion of her right inner labia. She also noticed the sparse whitish flakes coating her inner thighs, & that suddenly, the aching she felt, & the fullness in her belly, took on a new, horrific meaning. She leapt up, throwing the shower on & barely waiting for the water to get hot before hurling herself into the tiny stall. She pulled the handheld showerhead off of the wall, bringing the steaming spray to her sex. She washed her crotch thoroughly if gently-the ring in her labia was more tender than that in her nipple-trying to deny that there were globs of semen flushing from her vaginal canal. She couldn't ask her husband if they'd had sex, desperately hoping they had, even if she'd been asleep. Suddenly apprehensive, she climbed dripping from the shower, retrieving a hand held mirror from the vanity, then climbed back into the relative seclusion of the shower to check for any other changes. there were no hickies, scars or other marks. She heaved a sigh of relief, though the fear remained. What had she done?! She climbed out & was toweling dry when her husband poked his head through the door. She bit her lip, wondering how he'd react to the changes. "Fred called this morning. Boy, was he irate. He was sure Kathy was cheating on him; he ranted about how she'd said she was out with you, but she'd come home with a pierced navel & another ring in her pussy." He smiled, "Damn, hon', I didn't know you had it in you!" She paused, trying to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. "You like it. them?" "What's not to like?" he shrugged, "The younger guys at the office are always talking about their girlfriends' piercings & things. I guess it's a sign you enjoy your sexuality, so why should I complain," he grinned, "But how long before we can," he moved his hips suggestively, "You know?" She smiled in spite of herself. Surely he'd just taken advantage of her while she was sleeping. She hadn't been above that a time or 2, herself. "Well, it is a little sore. I' ll let you know," she dried between her legs carefully, shivering at the morning's events, "Um, when did I get in?" "Dunno. I was asleep. You 2 were out later than usual, though, that's for sure. & you should see how you parked. I could barely get into the garage. Maybe take a cab next time, OK?" She nodded, a mixture of relief & anxiety roiling in her stomach. She could really drink, she knew, but she'd never been so ***** she couldn't remember things. & she didn't drive when she was *****; a couple times they'd taken cabs home. Jeff gave her a final lascivious wink, then disappeared, & she absently began to get dressed. As she pulled her panties on, she had a sudden thought, & hurried to the hamper, fearing what she might find. To her puzzlement, there were no panties. She went through the bedding, looked in the bathroom & under the bed, but found nothing. The matching bra lay beside the hamper. She dressed, opting after the 1st contact of panties with the ring in her pussy not to wear any, & assuming she'd left the last pair wherever she'd gotten pierced. She considered whether she wanted them back enough to call around & quickly decided the panties were a small loss. Dressed & feeling almost whole, if aware of the different sensation at her left breast, Melissa poured herself a cup of coffee and made sure Jeff & her sons were out of earshot before she wandered into her tiny office & picked up the phone. She dialed from memory, hoping Fred was as understanding as her husband had been about what they'd done. He was clearly more uptight than her husband, which seemed strange, considering she knew Kathy was the more free-spirited compared to herself. The phone rang twice-Kathy always waited for the caller ID to identify a call-then Kathy picked up. "Mel?" "Yeah. Um, can you tell me what happened last night?" There was a long pause, "I was hoping you could tell me! Fred nearly shit when he saw. well, when he saw what I'd done. I can't remember doing it, though!" "Me either. I don't remember anything after meeting you for drinks." "I remember a little more than that. The club was busy as usual, & I remember having a couple drinks, but after that. it all gets hazy. When do you want to get your car?" "It's. it's here, already." "You drove like that? Damn! I can't believe we did this. did you ever think about. you know?" "Getting piercings like this? No way! Jeff laughed that he thought it was sexy when we saw 1 on a `night time cable' show, but I told him there was no way I was going to do that. & the 2nd ring. I can't believe I let anyone get close enough to do that." "I know what you mean. This is scary, Mel." "That's not the ? of it. were you. you know, did you have sex last night?" "You mean with Fred?" Mel' s voice was suddenly strained. "I guess. I don't know." "I, um, don't remember it, but I did it sometime last night." "Me too." Both women were silent for several moments. "Oh God! You don't think." Mel shook her head, not wanting to consider it. "I can't believe it. I mean, for both of us to. but then I look down, & who'd have guessed both of us would. you know." "I know. What should we do?" Mel considered Kathy's question. Usually her friend was the 1 with ideas, the 1 charging off without explaining her idea. "Well. we could go to the club. ask if anyone saw anything?" "That's a start," Kathy agreed, "Though I'm kind of scared what we might learn." "Better to know," Melissa said, trying to convince herself as much as her friend. "Oh, I also had a receipt in my purse from Fine Line Tattoo. There' s an address for the place in the phone book. It's downtown." "You're kidding?! That's a long way from the club; there have to be closer places to get. what we got." "I know. & you wouldn't believe how expensive it was. $200!" "Wow," Melissa wondered how she'd spent that kind of money. Jeff made good money, & she taught elementary school to supplement their income, but that was a lot to spend on. something she hadn't known she wanted. "Tell you what," Kathy sounded more in control of herself & the situation, to Melissa' s relief, "You check the club, see what people know, & I'll check at this tattoo place. We'll meet for lunch." Melissa agreed, remembering belatedly the rest of her ****** was at soccer. She scrawled a note to her husband that she & Kathy were going `looking for some things' & to lunch, grabbed her cell phone & keys, & left. Just like Jeff had claimed, her Camry was cock-eyed in the garage; so badly it was hard to get out onto the drive. She found the seat was farther back than usual, & had to readjust the mirrors as well as she left their guarded subdivision and got onto the highway. Remembering what Kathy had said, she went through her purse, looking for any clues as to what had happened Friday night. She shook her head angrily-Jeff had pointed out they usually did their night out during the week, but he & the boys had gone to a movie & he hadn't been angry; he'd just warned her to watch out since the crowd on weekends could be a little rowdier. She thrust the thoughts that threatened to follow that line of reasoning away as she pulled into the little dance club just off of 75th street. There were a few cars in the lot, even though it was barely after noon. Before getting out, she completed her search of the car & her purse. She had a matching receipt to the 1 described by her friend from the tattoo parlor; barely legible writing noting `tit/lip special' and something she couldn't decipher. It worried her that after the word `special' was a word that looked suspiciously like `permanent,' whatever that meant. There was also a receipt from a bar she vaguely remembered as being downtown. The amount was not so impressive that she would've thought she'd be blind *****. She resolved to visit the strange bar if she found nothing else-it was on the way to her lunch date on the Plaza. Inside the bar was more brightly lit than she remembered. She didn't recognize the young men working behind the bar, though 1 eyed her for a moment & nudged his buddy. She blushed, wondering why they were staring, & hurried beyond the bar to the dance floor & booths at the back, looking for someone she knew. She saw Erica, a week night waitress filling napkin dispensers, & after exchanging a somewhat awkward greeting, Melissa haltingly explained that she & Kathy couldn't remember all that they'd done the night before & were hoping to find some answers. Erica laughed that she'd been `at other bars' the night before, but told Melissa to wait, & walked over to the guys behind the bar. Melissa watched as Erica spoke, & felt a wave or relief when 1 of the 2 nodded. The other said something to Erica, then, & the waitress shook her head, talking for another moment, & indicating a height with her hand, Melissa guessed she was describing Kathy. Again the 1st man nodded, while the second shrugged but agreed. Erica turned, a strange expression on her face. She hurried back & motioned for Melissa to sit in the booth she'd been working. "Steve & Greg worked the bar last night. They say you & your friend were in about 9." "That'd be about right," Melissa nodded, "What's wrong?" the waitress' expression was increasingly worrisome. "Well, I told them I think they're thinking of different women, `cause I know you're both married & just come to unwind." Melissa nodded, "But they insist you had a drink with a guy they'd never seen before, & shortly all 3 of you left. Greg thinks it wasn't even 10, yet." Melissa nodded, trying not to show any emotion. She waited, hiding her hands beneath the table so Erica wouldn't see they were shaking. "That's not all they said, is it?" Erica blushed, but shook her head, "No. They said you 2 were hanging all over this guy. They figured he was about to get doubly lucky." "They'd never seen him before?" "Nope. He paid cash, tipped all right but not great," she smiled, "In fact, they said the only reason they noticed was that he was black, & was leaving with the 2 best looking women in the place." Something in Melissa's expression must have concerned the younger woman, because she reached across the table, "Is something wrong?" Melissa managed to shake her head, mumbling her thanks, & telling Erica they'd remember her help the next time they were in. The sprightly girl smiled, "Don't worry, you 2 are some of my best customers." Melissa tried to smile in reply as she stood. She managed not to look at the bartenders, who were still watching her, as she hurried outside & to her car. Seated behind the wheel, she sat shaking for several moments, amazed at what she'd heard-she & Kathy had left the bar with a black man? It was surreal. She started to dial Kathy's cell phone, but stopped, resolved to check out the 2nd bar to which she'd found the receipt. Digging it out of her purse, she threw some trash-used Kleenex, empty gum wrappers, & the crinkles edge of a black plastic wrap-to the ground. There was more than a receipt, she realized; there was a matchbook with the address. She breathed a sigh of relief that nothing was written inside as she pulled onto 75th street and headed toward I35. The Edge was a techno club, the latest incarnation in a string of glitzy but short-lived themes. The success of the club Melissa had heard depended on its `varied' clientele, a polite way of calling it a gay bar. So she wasn 't surprised to see both men & women watching her as she entered the place, which even in the afternoon was dark, with black lights & dim neon lights hanging from the ceiling in chaotic arrays. She approached the bar, where a bearded man was wiping glasses & hanging them on the overhead rack in preparation for the night's customers. He looked at her once, then more steadily, holding a glass in his hand. "I thought I told you I didn't want to see you in here, again." "I'm sorry, I don't understand." "Look, lady. You're a knock out & so was your friend, & I know we have a lot of interesting people around here, but you can't behave like you did last night. I coulda got closed down, & you 2 shoulda got arrested." "I'm sorry," Melissa stammered again, blushing fiercely, "I'm just. My friend & I? We don 't know exactly what happened last night. I was hoping you could." The man shook his head, "I shoulda known. Tried something new, last night? Booze ain 't enough to get you up? You waltzed in with this big black guy, had a couple drinks, & flirted with the bartenders & waitresses, both. That's cool. We expect that. I don't even mind when you get up on the tables to dance if you're good, like you 2 were. But I can't have you flashing your tits in here. & I certainly can't tolerate public sex acts." "Public." "Yes, that's what I call blowing the guy at the edge of the dance floor. I swear, condom or not, I can't have that going on out here. it's bad enough when you people use the bathroom for your quickies." His tone softened as he saw Melissa trembling, "Look, I don't mean there's anything wrong with what y' all did. you just can't do it in here like that." She nodded numbly, "The guy didn't put up a fuss & you left without any problem when we asked. We want you back, just not acting like that." Melissa nodded, & feebly, managed, "Um, was there anything. unusual about our flashing people on the tables?" The guy stared at her as if he hadn't heard. She blushed more deeply, "Were there any weird rings or piercings or anything?" The guy shook his head, "Honey, if you're that far gone, you need help. Trust me, this life will eat you alive," he looked pointedly at her left hand & the wedding band, "Go home. Be with your ******. Don't let this ruin your life." Melissa 's legs felt unsteady as she returned to her car, wondering what the man meant. When he'd spoken, she'd wondered if he knew something he wasn't saying, but the reality of what had happened was so shocking she wasn't thinking clearly at all. She checked her watch, hoping Kathy would have some answers. Lunch at the Classic Cup was subdued. Kathy had her head in her hands over a cup of coffee when Melissa sat down. Her friend looked up; to Melissa's surprise, she'd been crying. "What's wrong?" she had a sudden fear she didn' t know the worst of it. Kathy shook her head, waiting until the intrusive waiter took Melissa's drink order. Kathy didn't look up as she began to speak, "God, Mel. I don't know where to start. We were there last night. & we weren't alone. There was a black guy with us. The man at the shop. Can you believe I let a strange man do. this to my pussy." She glanced around self-consciously; tables at the Cup were close, but no one was seated nearby. "He said. He told me we'd come in asking for `matching work.' The guy was suggesting we get clit rings, but when he mentioned they had a sale on `tits & lips' doing a nipple & labia ring, the guy told us that sounded good. & we agreed. He showed me where we signed. No waver or nothing. It's our names, all right." "Oh, God," Melissa mumbled, aware that her friend was corroborating what she'd learned. "That's not all," Kathy took a deep breath, "We said we wanted `permanent closures.'" "What?" "Permanent closures. Had you noticed the clear stuff on the thick part of the rings?" Melissa nodded. "That's epoxy. like Super Glue. It fused the ring so it can only be cut off." She looked around again, & shivered, "But we also made a down payment for tattoos. The man said we `hadn't decided yet' & the guy we were with told him we'd be back another time. I told him neither of us remembered a thing, & he just shrugged & said we'd `seemed all right to him. ' The pig. He laughed that `our lover' wanted us to get the piercings on opposite sides so he could `tell us apart in the dark.' He said the guy wanted to be sure we'd still be able to fuck that night, & went so far as to tell me that based on what was leaking out of us, he'd bet we'd already been a round or 2." There was a mix of humiliation & defiance in her expression when she looked up at Melissa. "I asked him how he wasn't surprised that we didn't remember what had happened, & he just shrugged & told me that in his line of work, nothing he sees surprised him anymore, & added that `at least we'd taken it outside before we were all over the guy we were with.' Then he told me to come back whenever we'd decided what we wanted & where." Melissa related what she'd learned, the mention of oral sex and condoms, though her friend's words had effectively dashed any hope they'd stayed protected, & the dancing & exhibitionism. The women were silent through much of lunch, each trying to come to grips with what had happened. How could mothers & devoted wives get in such trouble for going out for a couple drinks. Melissa tried not to think about what could happen if her husband learned of what had really happened. Or her employer. Kathy was in no better position. Her husband was less tolerant of anything he considered `liberal' & her job as a legal secretary would be in as much danger if people thought she behaved like that routinely. Looking at her friend, Melissa could see how the bartenders-or any man-might be interested in a tryst. They regularly turned down offers to dance, as well as outright propositions. Her friend had the graceful lines of an athlete, standing 5'10" but weighing only 140#, a willowy figure who still managed enough bust to attract attention, & whose legs & ass even Melissa found attractive. Melissa was no less fit-both women played tennis & golf in the summer and swam at the Y in the winter-though she was shorter, standing only 5'5", weighing 115#. In contrast to her friend's blonde bob & sparkling green eyes, Melissa's jet-black hair reached the small of her back, & her clear gray eyes were more guarded and appraising. Melissa had the larger chest, though neither was top-heavy by any standard. Melissa tanned, while her friend avoided the sun whenever possible, though a dusting of freckles was faintly visible on her nose. Uncharacteristically, each opted for dessert before Melissa returned to the topic of their activities that day. "I can't believe it. I mean, if I could at least remember something." Kathy nodded, "But then I tell myself I don't want to remember. I mean, ignorance is bliss, right? We aren't sure we did anything." Melissa eyed her friend, "I had dried cum in my crotch this morning, Kathy. If it wasn't Jeff." she swallowed suddenly, unable to finish, then took a breath, "God. I don't know what he'll do when he finds out." "Why should he find out?" Kathy challenged, "We didn't try to do anything. We certainly didn't enjoy it! Don't punish yourself." "But I." "You made a mistake. So did I. Just don't let it happen again," she paused, "But I agree, I wish I knew how it happened. Did we try something someone gave us? We had to be drugged somehow, unless it was aliens," she snorted. Melissa nodded, "But that's rule 1: no drinks from strangers. We never do that!" Kathy nodded, then shrugged. "So what do we do, now?" Melissa asked her friend. Though Kathy was only 4 months older (both were 28), she was the decision maker. "Well, we don't stop our girls' night out." "But." "Look, Mel, if we stop, we won't get to start again later. & our husbands might get suspicious if we suddenly stopped after." she glanced down at her blouse as if she expected the ring to be visible, "This. So we'll go to a different bar or to the movies or to Barnes & Noble. I don't care, but I still need some time away from home." Melissa nodded; as usual her friend was making sense, "Just think of the rings & the tattoo payment as our reminder not to let our guard down to anyone else." The women paid the outrageous bill, then spent a blissful afternoon shopping before returning home to their families & the rest of the weekend. Over the rest of the weekend, Melissa was even able to forget sometimes what had undoubtedly happened. She adapted to the strange sensations of the jewelry rubbing against her clothes, though panties remained a no-no. The time she did consider the lost night, she was aware of a nagging suspicion she & Kathy were forgetting something, but could not place what it was. By mutual agreement, they went to the movies the next week, then sat in a coffee shop relating the week's trials. A month passed without any apparent problem. They stayed away from the bars, shopping or eating out or seeing `chick flicks.' Both women visited their gynecologist to be sure there was no problem that could be transmitted to their husbands, & were relieved when there was none.
Part II The man moved easily through the crowd, attracting no undue attention. He was a partier among partiers to anyone observing. Bigger than most, certainly, but even that he minimized, hunching slightly, `thinking' small as it was. He kept a fresh Ginger Ale in hand at all times, sizing up the crowd, looking for his opportunities. Or to follow up on past successes, as he had been waiting to do for more than a month. Tom was a recruiter of sorts. He found dancers for the clubs downtown, & even for out of state-and occasionally out of country-clients. For nearly 15y he'd been finding willing young women to go on stage & expose themselves for dollar tips, but in the last 5y he'd developed a more specialized, if unadvertised, service. He was a man who could `get' a woman for a buyer. Simply provide the desired traits, & he would search them out. & willingness to participate was completely optional, thanks to his little friends. He had used the `roofies' increasingly, 1st to procure otherwise inaccessible women for his own pleasure, but then, to expand his business, as well. He smiled. In 2y he'd established a premiere `escort service' made up predominantly of housewives who had fallen into his trap. Their behavior was amazingly consistent. After a night with him, in which he'd make sure they did outrageous things, they invariably tried to ignore whatever had happened. None ever seemed to consider that he had their names & addresses, their credit card numbers & house keys & day planners long enough to make copies; or that he had them long enough to be sure he could. encourage future cooperation. Of course, he seldom used the Polaroids anymore, though he never passed up a chance to get pictures. Cheap airfare had allowed a more convincing manner of guaranteeing cooperation & turning a profit at the same time. He even had some of the wives in his stable flying to service out of town customers. He eyed the crowd of this bar, aware that they had come here again, the 1st time since he'd picked them up. He smiled, remembering that night with a rare fondness-the women were truly talented, if somewhat uninspired. He fingered the vial of tablets in his pocket & considered his options. He could let them have their evening uninterrupted, or. He stepped forward & caught the bartender's attention, "What's tonight's special?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "Blue Hawaii," the bartender answered. Tom nodded & held up 2 fingers & a $10 spot. A minute later, he sauntered to the table where his women-he already thought of them that way-were sitting, nearly empty pina coladas on the table. "Hello, ladies," he'd pinched a tray from the server's station, & uncovered a pin approximating that worn by the waiters & waitresses, taking only enough time to add a healthy dose of crushed Rohypnol to each. "The bartender says you're regulars," he continued his spiel, "& this is tonight's special drink, the Blue Hawaii. Compliments of the bar," he waved in the direction of the bar, having waited until the bartender was turned away with another customer." "That's OK," the brunette began, but he waved her off, "Seriously, please. The folks who ordered this left, & I can't drink them," he forced a smile, ready to go to plan B if there was a problem. the pictures were tucked in his jacket-2 envelopes with their names, addresses, & other pertinent information hand written on the outside. Instead, the blonde shrugged, taking 1 of the drinks from the tray. Her friend-Kathy-followed, & nodding his thanks, Tom turned, ostensibly to return to the bar. He took his time circling the central drink station, ditching the tray & hiding his nametag in the process. From the opposite side, he watched as the ladies sipped at their drinks. This was the risky part-if another man hit on them after the drug was working, but before he could get there, they might give someone else a freebie. He waited, willing himself to be patient & the women to finish their drinks. The brunette was 1st, & Tom took the opportunity to swing by, again posing as a waiter-the lack of a nametag shouldn't worry either woman any longer. The 1st time, he' d simply followed their waitress, adding the drug to their drinks when she paused to serve another group in the close confines of the booths. It had been a matter of waiting the right amount of time, then taking control of the helpless women. He smiled, remembering how much fun the evening had been, & anticipating more such enjoyment. When he leaned over the table & said, "Want another Blue Hawaii?" the brunette paused for a moment, as if she was having difficulty understanding the question, which hadn't really been a question. She nodded slowly, & he smiled & turned away, hurrying to the bar, where he purchased 3 more drinks, dosing each as he circled the bar-avoiding the real wait staff. Lastly, he popped 2 of the Romazicon tabs-an `antidote' of sorts for the Rohypnol. There wasn't so much he'd get loopy in the drink, but he wanted to remain clear headed, & he had to get the ladies high enough to obey him. Instead of leaving their drinks at the table as he'd done before, Tom sat down beside the blonde & slid the drinks in front of each before leaning back to look at them. "Damn, but you 2 are something," he said appreciatively. The blonde leaned away from him slightly, "Look, thanks, but we don't take drinks from other people," the blonde's words slurred slightly, as if she'd had a few drinks. Tom knew better; some people were extremely susceptible to the drug. He shrugged, "What? You think I drugged these or something? Here," he took a healthy drink from each glass then sat back, "Besides, you already had a drink I bought you, remember?" Panic sparked behind the blonde's eyes, before he went on, leading her off track, "I was your `waiter' a minute ago? I figured that would at least earn me time to sit here for a minute or 2." The brunette eyed him warily but did not speak. "Look, I saw you 2 in here the other day. maybe a month ago. You didn't have a problem leaving with a black guy that night." he dangled the bait, wondering how they would react. The women looked at each other, before the brunette said, "You saw us with another black guy?" "Sure did. I remember thinking what a lucky guy he was," Tom took a drink of the Blue Hawaii in front of him, willing the women to do the same. The blonde seemed terribly thirsty, suddenly. Her friend considered it for a moment. "You know him? The guy we were with?" "Not specifically. I mean, he hangs on the club scene; I'd heard he deals in crank & some of the other. illicit pharmaceuticals, but I don't go for that stuff, man." "Would you recognize him if you saw him?" "You kidding? What's wrong, he stiff you or something?" The brunette didn't answer, instead taking a healthy drink. He watched, trying to gauge their reactions, then looked around, "He's been here off & on the last couple weeks. He'll swing through, like he's looking for someone, then he leaves. I dunno," he shrugged, "Maybe he's trying to pay you back if he owes you money." Neither woman spoke, but they didn't tell him to leave, either. Tom nursed his drink, pretending to swallow any time the women were drinking. Soon their glasses were empty, & he insisted on sharing his with them. By that time, neither woman was saying much, spending their time staring blankly ahead of them for increasing stretches. He smiled inwardly, then said, "Hey, I think he's been hanging out at that place downtown, the Edge, a lot. I'll take you there." As he spoke, he caught the blonde gently by the arm, lifting her out of her seat. She didn't protest, but let him guide her out of the booth, the brunette following behind. He checked to be sure the bartender was otherwise occupied, then headed to the shadowed aisle at the edge of the club, staying out of sight until they were outside. "Where's your car?" the brunette pointed. It was a late model Jeep Grand Cherokee. He asked for the keys, then headed toward downtown, turning off not toward the Edge, but toward the Municipal Airport. There was new service from a small carrier from there to Las Vegas, & he had plans for his latest mares. Neither woman protested the change in venue, & when prompted, each called home, leaving a message-he was glad their families were out, making it easier to carry off-that Melissa had 1 a weekend getaway for 2 that weekend only so they were flying out, & promising to let the husbands have a weekend soon. After that, it was a simple matter to get them aboard the small business jet. On board were a few of Tom's friends & customers. Each had paid handsomely to help in assuring the housewives would soon be his willing, if not eager, whores. He carefully plied them with more drinks, keeping the level of roofies high enough in their system that they were docile & obedient. When he told them to strip after take-off, they did without hesitation. He already had the camcorder rolling, being careful not to let any of the men's faces be seen. The women were soon standing naked in the narrow aisle, & he had them turn, getting nice close-ups of each woman in all her glory. A moment later, he had both women masturbating in the aisle seats. As he had noted was often the case, the women seemed less drugged when being made to pleasure themselves. At his urging off camera, each woman said for the camcorder, "I want to join the mile high club," before 1 of his friends, who quickly obliged the drugged women, bending them over seat arms & fucking them hard & fast, doggie style. The women moaned & groaned at the urging of the men taking them-it didn't have to be Tom giving the orders-begging for more when the 1st man had cum deep in their cunts, & seemingly welcoming the in flight gang bang that occurred. When every man had enjoyed each of the women, he recorded a nice bit where they lay in the aisle, eating each other clean. Then, just before they began the descent into Vegas, he had the tattoo artist go to work. The man had demanded Tom pay for the portable equipment when he'd 1st approached him with his `business proposal,' but it had been well worth it. The guy got a `free ride ' on these flights, but he provided advance notice if the women Tom `recruited' were searching for him, as these had, & his work really was 1st class. Tom prepped each woman, who then sauntered to the tiny `studio' set up in the plane, & casually asked if the artist would trade them a tattoo for a pussy fuck. When the artist said, "Sure, what do you want?" the women giggled-as ordered to do-then said, "This," Kathy handing over the page Tom had given her. It was a bastardized version of the mouse, Jerry, from Tom & Jerry, with 1 hand holding an oversized erect cock. All of his `girls' had that tattoo somewhere-he'd let the women choose, as addled as they remained. Often, his soon to be whores would just settle back in the chair, ready for the agreed upon fuck, & letting the tat be placed down by their pubes. The occasional, especially willful woman would choose an ankle or back or breast, but both of his new recruits obediently reclined in the provided seats, letting the man ink them, then ball them. Tom always enjoyed the fact that the camera showed him carefully donning latex gloves to prevent infection while doing the skin work, after which he'd strip the gloves off with a snap, drop his zipper, & plunge his naked cock into their exposed pussy, sans any sort of protection. He'd just finished banging the petite blonde when the wheels hit the tarmac, signaling their landing. The men smiled & talked among 1 another, aware that they'd get similar treatment, but from more responsive women, on the ride home. For the next day, they were free to enjoy the sites of the City that Never Sleeps. Tom's 1 rule-to protect his investment-was that the men working to help him break his new whores in not fool around on the side; the last thing he needed was to get any of his women infected with some STD. That had been difficult at 1st, since there weren't many women, but with almost 45 women working for him directly, & another 2 dozen he'd `recruited' working for similar outfits, the men had no end of available pussy. He told the women to get dressed, noticing that neither wore any panties, & aware that it was likely because of the labia rings, with which he'd begun their indoctrination. They obediently downed another glass of spiked champagne before he led them down the stairs to a waiting limo, which whisked them into the city, & a prepared suite. Once there, he again had them strip, then fucked each of them in their pussy & ass, making sure to leave a load in each of them before collecting their things. He gave each another drink, more heavily spiked, which put them out completely, then spent some time quick-dubbing the tape with his camcorder, leaving the rough copy & a note on the television cabinet. He'd stop by the next morning, or almost morning. they had a full day ahead of them.
Part III Melissa rolled to her side, groaning as dim awareness surfaced. The room was completely dark. She shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot on the hard mattress beneath her. Something was wrong, though she was not sure exactly what. She blinked, looked at the red numbers of the alarm clock: 4AM. Her husband was pressed against her right side. That was strange-he usually lay to her left. She was trying to figure why she was seeing red & not blue clock numbers, when she put a questioning hand against Jeff's back, & found none of the hair she expected. That quickly, Melissa was completely awake. She sat up, pushing the covers down. Even in the dark, it was obvious it was not her bedroom. Panic clutched at her throat. She looked beside her, almost against her will, & relaxed fractionally when she realized it was Kathy snoring quietly beside her. Her friend was naked from the waist up, & Melissa realized with no small embarrassment she was totally naked. A fragment of memory from the last time she'd awoken so disoriented made her reach to her crotch & right breast, fearful of what she would find. no new rings were in evidence. Pushing at Kathy's shoulder, she reached blindly for the bed stand lamp & turned it on. She reached belatedly for the covers to hide herself, but the room was empty. Kathy groaned, rolling to her back, still ******* of anything as Melissa ran to the windows & looked out, trying to ignore the now familiar fullness between her legs. It wasn't the squalor of a `cheater's motel' she already knew, based on the quality of the furnishing. A brightly lit city stretched out far below her-not Kansas City. Her breath caught, as she tried to guess where she was. She saw familiar names of `the Strip' & knew, but couldn't imagine how." "Melissa?" Kathy was starting to figure something was wrong. She sat up, as well, & Melissa gasped as she looked at her friend. "What's. Oh, God," Kathy answered, staring at Melissa in equal shock, then down at her own naked body. Melissa eyed her own torso, a sob escaping her throat as she saw the lewd teddy bear or mouse marring her pubes. She wiped at it, wishing it were painted on, but knowing better. "Oh, God," Melissa asked, searching her friend's face for answers, "What's happened to us?" "I don't know," Kathy answered, an audible quake in her voice. She glanced around, stepping to the clothes cabinet & pulling on a robe. She threw the 2nd to Melissa, who said, "What about our clothes?" The women searched the suite, finding none of their clothes, & worse, their purses were missing. Kathy saw the videotape first. Melissa had tried the phone, but could not learn who was paying for the room in which they stayed-hotel policy the clerk claimed. Kathy got her friend's attention, then slid the tape into the player with shaking hands. The tape hissed to life, showing no fewer than 7 men in what they realized belatedly was a small jet. The camera passed over them initially at chest height, showing everyone was clothed. The screen went dark, & a moment later, showed them stripping, then showing themselves off to the camera & the strange men. Kathy gasped when the tape jumped again, showing her masturbating feverishly, the sounds of her moans caught on camera. She didn' t realize that she didn't yet have the tattoo. Melissa pointed that out softly as the frame shifted to show her matching performance on the opposite side of the aisle. The frame shifted again, & the women heard themselves asking to join the mile high club, after which there began an endless session during which 1 man after another fucked their apparently willing bodies. As she saw the 1st man to take her-a heavy set black with a thick, strangely bent penis-stiffen, thrusting into her fully & saying, "Ahhh, take my load, slut. Tell me how much you like it," after which her own voice answered, "I like it. Give it to me," Melissa stood stiffly & hurried into the shower, where Kathy joined her a moment later. The women were relieved that the showerhead was detachable, & douched as best as they could, paying no attention to the fact that they were doing such intimate activities together. Long after the cold water had run out, they exited the oversized stall, & after drying off sat together on the couch in the main room in front of the TV. "We have to know," Melissa said quietly after a time. It scared her how quiet Kathy was. Her friend nodded stiffly, then picked up the remote. As they watched the seemingly endless tape, each had to stop repeatedly at 1st, but by the end, they were fast forwarding through the intolerable sections rather than breaking down in tears. Again, neither had any memory of what had happened, but the images were more than plain. "Jeff would leave me," Melissa took a halting breath, "What does he want? Why are we here?" Kathy shook her head helplessly, "I wish I knew. All I remember is that there was a different waiter." Melissa nodded, "& we had the special. Blue something." "That's right." Kathy paused, "Why do I think he wasn't a waiter?" Both women sat in misery, eyes still glued to the screen. The same disgusting man who'd been 1st with Melissa was finishing in Kathy, & the brunette nodded, looking to her friend, "Fred's sort of. prejudiced. 1 look at this & he'd probably kill me." "What do we do?" Melissa looked to her friend, who simply shrugged, "I guess we call home. `Hey honey, I was kidnapped & gang ***** & I don't remember any of it, but now I'm naked in a hotel suite in Las Vegas with no clothes or money. Oh, & you know those piercings? You won't believe the souvenir I have now.' He'd have his lawyer in the kitchen & a restraining order for the kids before he thought about wiring money for a ticket home." Melissa feared Jeff's reaction would not be much different. The screen had gone blank, & the women sat staring at it for a moment. "What should we do with it?" "Burn it. There's a copy, of course. We're well & truly screwed," Kathy brooded for a moment standing abruptly & walking to the window, "It's like this is a gilded cage, you know? I would have given anything to be in a place like this with Fred, but this. this is horrible." Melissa nodded her agreement, starting when the picture cleared suddenly & a voice boomed over the TV speaker. "Hello, sluts!" is said. The camera was on, but it was the cameraman speaking, & there was no sound. The picture was of them asleep on the bed, Melissa's legs spread, a steady trickle of cum running down her inner thigh. Kathy was on her stomach, & as the camera panned down, the photographer's cock was pictured, thrust fully into the brunette's ass. As they watched, he pulled out for an unbelievable time before slipping free of her pucker, which remained obscenely open, glistening from the flash where his jism sat in her bowels. "Now you know why you're sore there," he began, a smile in his voice as the camera panned back to Melissa, "& this is mine. You loved it," he added. You've probably guessed, you've been quite naughty girls in the last 12 hours. I'd guess you've had more men than either of you had before you were married." he paused for effect. Melissa shivered-Jeff had been her only until. She glanced at Kathy, who nodded & held up 3 fingers. The voice continued, "I bet you're wondering how you got here? I'd tell you, but then you'd be tempted to use this tape in a way I don't want it used, so when you're ready to talk, just dial 1578 & ask for Tom-that's why little Jerry is there by your nice little pussies, so you remember who I am. I'll stop by. I wouldn't try to leave if I were you. there are better copies of the tape, as well as some pictures," the camera panned to the bed beside Melissa's naked flesh & a black hand held several Polaroids down so they could see images of each woman sucking & fucking the same gigantic erection, sans condom, in Melissa's car. "So if you try to get home without money & wearing hotel issue robes, you'll still have some explaining to do. I especially like what you say on the video, though. that can't be faked, can it?" The screen went to static, & Kathy walked back over, turning the tape off with a vicious jab. "That arrogant fuck! Thinks he can do this to us." the tirade died as she realized how badly off they were. Melissa was sobbing on the couch, & after another moment, Kathy went to comfort her friend. When Melissa had regained some control, Kathy stood & moved to the telephone, paging through the binder lying beside the phone. When she picked up, Melissa gasped, "What are you?" but Kathy held up a finger, then calmly asked for soft drinks, bottled water, Caesar salads, and two of the tremendously expensive entr?es. She hung up & smiled, "The least we can do is enojoy the amenities before we see what the prick wants." Melissa couldn' t hide her smile, though she wondered if they would pay in the end for the defiance. "We're in trouble, aren't we?" Kathy nodded, then shrugged, "But who knows, maybe he wants industrial secrets from our husbands or something." both women laughed, "Let's just wait & see what he says."
Part IV Dwayne had expected the call to be later, & wondered how or why the women had gotten up when they had. He'd placed a 6AM wake-up call, & the ringing of his own phone at just that time had confused him for a moment. Instead, an angry but subdued female voice had said, "We're ready," & had hung up. Nothing more. He'd gotten up, checked that he'd left nothing to identify him in the room, then left, turning & walking away from the elevators toward the far suite, where his new `girls' had been installed. One of the perks of his job was comp time at several of the casinos, which aided in his `recruiting efforts.' Vegas might be advertising itself as a ****** vacation spot, but there were still the vices that had 1st brought Capone & his cronies around. Dwayne made himself valuable to members of the mafia, the yakuza, the Russians, Czechs, Poles, Columbians, & increasingly, Arabs, who while not crime families, held women in different regard than the people in Europe & North America. He didn't bother knocking, but let himself in with the keycard, stepping into the room as if he owned it, which was the case. The women were sitting on the couch, talking quietly to each other. Dwayne often found his women thought they were being constantly watched, which would have been impossible in a suite occasionally used by Royalty, but the illusion was a handy one. He stopped, selecting a bottle of Jack Daniels from the servi-bar before sitting opposite them. He casually threw a boot up onto his knee & took a hit of the Jack, waiting for the women to speak. "What are we doing here?" the brunette flipped her hair angrily, though the effect was comical as she sat in the hotel robe. "You're my guests, of course. Well, that's not exactly true. Let's say you're now my employees.
She groaned, aware of harsh light leaking around the curtains into her face, & rolled to the other side. Her mind registered surprise-her husband wasn't in bed with her-& dim awareness of some discomfort. There were aches all over, as if she'd been working out especially hard the day before, but there was something. She blinked her eyes, looking around the familiar room, much more bright than it should have been in the morning. She checked the clock: 11:16! She sat up, again aware of a strange, almost painful pulling as the covers shifted on her chest. She pushed the covers down, scanning her naked body, eyes still bleary with sleep. Something glittered over her breast, at her left nipple. She was aware belatedly that the vague discomfort was emanating from there. She blinked again, struggled to focus, & gasped in shock: it was a nipple ring. She scrunched back beneath the covers, searching the room, desperate to know if her husband had seen. How had that happened? She covered her face & tried to recall the events of the past night. She'd been with Kathy, on their weekly `girls' night out.' She remembered leaving-she'd driven-but after that. Nothing. There was no other sound in the house, & she wondered if her ****** was gone for the day. She reached for the bedside phone to call Kathy-maybe she would have some insight into what they'd done. The shift to sitting as she reached for the phone reminded her of her achy body, though, & her bladder was complaining, so she pushed the covers back & rolled to her feet, staggering into the bathroom. Her breath caught on the cold tile, & she pranced to the mat by her vanity, looking at her torso in the mirror, then down at the real thing-the bright silver ring entered 1 side of her left nipple, emerging from the other & dropping in a small loop below the deep pink flesh. There was a tiny bead at the bottom, she guessed where the ring closed. She was surprised that there was no blood, & that the pain was minimal-more an awareness of something different than anything wrong-even when she tentatively reached up & shifted the ring. There was a drop of something clear & hard on the bead, & a little experimentation convinced her it would be better not to try to remove it, as the manipulation that required was painful, & she couldn't unseat the ring from the bead. Stepping back, she admitted privately it didn't look bad, keeping her usually flat nipple semi-erect, capping the firm, round breast nicely. She wondered what her husband would say. & what she would be able to tell him. Turning to the water closet, she moved onto the mat below the stool & sat down on the cold seat, sighing as she relieved herself. There seemed to be more fluid than usual dripping into the toilet, & she reached down, fingers absently moving through her pubic thatch, which she found had areas of hairs matted together in small tangles, as if she hadn't cleaned up after sex. More shocking, though, as she brought the toilet paper between her legs to wipe, was something hard, nestled between her labia. Melissa flipped the lights on, peering between her legs. She was shocked again, more deeply than before, to find a 2nd silver ring hanging from the mid-portion of her right inner labia. She also noticed the sparse whitish flakes coating her inner thighs, & that suddenly, the aching she felt, & the fullness in her belly, took on a new, horrific meaning. She leapt up, throwing the shower on & barely waiting for the water to get hot before hurling herself into the tiny stall. She pulled the handheld showerhead off of the wall, bringing the steaming spray to her sex. She washed her crotch thoroughly if gently-the ring in her labia was more tender than that in her nipple-trying to deny that there were globs of semen flushing from her vaginal canal. She couldn't ask her husband if they'd had sex, desperately hoping they had, even if she'd been asleep. Suddenly apprehensive, she climbed dripping from the shower, retrieving a hand held mirror from the vanity, then climbed back into the relative seclusion of the shower to check for any other changes. there were no hickies, scars or other marks. She heaved a sigh of relief, though the fear remained. What had she done?! She climbed out & was toweling dry when her husband poked his head through the door. She bit her lip, wondering how he'd react to the changes. "Fred called this morning. Boy, was he irate. He was sure Kathy was cheating on him; he ranted about how she'd said she was out with you, but she'd come home with a pierced navel & another ring in her pussy." He smiled, "Damn, hon', I didn't know you had it in you!" She paused, trying to keep her jaw from hitting the floor. "You like it. them?" "What's not to like?" he shrugged, "The younger guys at the office are always talking about their girlfriends' piercings & things. I guess it's a sign you enjoy your sexuality, so why should I complain," he grinned, "But how long before we can," he moved his hips suggestively, "You know?" She smiled in spite of herself. Surely he'd just taken advantage of her while she was sleeping. She hadn't been above that a time or 2, herself. "Well, it is a little sore. I' ll let you know," she dried between her legs carefully, shivering at the morning's events, "Um, when did I get in?" "Dunno. I was asleep. You 2 were out later than usual, though, that's for sure. & you should see how you parked. I could barely get into the garage. Maybe take a cab next time, OK?" She nodded, a mixture of relief & anxiety roiling in her stomach. She could really drink, she knew, but she'd never been so ***** she couldn't remember things. & she didn't drive when she was *****; a couple times they'd taken cabs home. Jeff gave her a final lascivious wink, then disappeared, & she absently began to get dressed. As she pulled her panties on, she had a sudden thought, & hurried to the hamper, fearing what she might find. To her puzzlement, there were no panties. She went through the bedding, looked in the bathroom & under the bed, but found nothing. The matching bra lay beside the hamper. She dressed, opting after the 1st contact of panties with the ring in her pussy not to wear any, & assuming she'd left the last pair wherever she'd gotten pierced. She considered whether she wanted them back enough to call around & quickly decided the panties were a small loss. Dressed & feeling almost whole, if aware of the different sensation at her left breast, Melissa poured herself a cup of coffee and made sure Jeff & her sons were out of earshot before she wandered into her tiny office & picked up the phone. She dialed from memory, hoping Fred was as understanding as her husband had been about what they'd done. He was clearly more uptight than her husband, which seemed strange, considering she knew Kathy was the more free-spirited compared to herself. The phone rang twice-Kathy always waited for the caller ID to identify a call-then Kathy picked up. "Mel?" "Yeah. Um, can you tell me what happened last night?" There was a long pause, "I was hoping you could tell me! Fred nearly shit when he saw. well, when he saw what I'd done. I can't remember doing it, though!" "Me either. I don't remember anything after meeting you for drinks." "I remember a little more than that. The club was busy as usual, & I remember having a couple drinks, but after that. it all gets hazy. When do you want to get your car?" "It's. it's here, already." "You drove like that? Damn! I can't believe we did this. did you ever think about. you know?" "Getting piercings like this? No way! Jeff laughed that he thought it was sexy when we saw 1 on a `night time cable' show, but I told him there was no way I was going to do that. & the 2nd ring. I can't believe I let anyone get close enough to do that." "I know what you mean. This is scary, Mel." "That's not the ? of it. were you. you know, did you have sex last night?" "You mean with Fred?" Mel' s voice was suddenly strained. "I guess. I don't know." "I, um, don't remember it, but I did it sometime last night." "Me too." Both women were silent for several moments. "Oh God! You don't think." Mel shook her head, not wanting to consider it. "I can't believe it. I mean, for both of us to. but then I look down, & who'd have guessed both of us would. you know." "I know. What should we do?" Mel considered Kathy's question. Usually her friend was the 1 with ideas, the 1 charging off without explaining her idea. "Well. we could go to the club. ask if anyone saw anything?" "That's a start," Kathy agreed, "Though I'm kind of scared what we might learn." "Better to know," Melissa said, trying to convince herself as much as her friend. "Oh, I also had a receipt in my purse from Fine Line Tattoo. There' s an address for the place in the phone book. It's downtown." "You're kidding?! That's a long way from the club; there have to be closer places to get. what we got." "I know. & you wouldn't believe how expensive it was. $200!" "Wow," Melissa wondered how she'd spent that kind of money. Jeff made good money, & she taught elementary school to supplement their income, but that was a lot to spend on. something she hadn't known she wanted. "Tell you what," Kathy sounded more in control of herself & the situation, to Melissa' s relief, "You check the club, see what people know, & I'll check at this tattoo place. We'll meet for lunch." Melissa agreed, remembering belatedly the rest of her ****** was at soccer. She scrawled a note to her husband that she & Kathy were going `looking for some things' & to lunch, grabbed her cell phone & keys, & left. Just like Jeff had claimed, her Camry was cock-eyed in the garage; so badly it was hard to get out onto the drive. She found the seat was farther back than usual, & had to readjust the mirrors as well as she left their guarded subdivision and got onto the highway. Remembering what Kathy had said, she went through her purse, looking for any clues as to what had happened Friday night. She shook her head angrily-Jeff had pointed out they usually did their night out during the week, but he & the boys had gone to a movie & he hadn't been angry; he'd just warned her to watch out since the crowd on weekends could be a little rowdier. She thrust the thoughts that threatened to follow that line of reasoning away as she pulled into the little dance club just off of 75th street. There were a few cars in the lot, even though it was barely after noon. Before getting out, she completed her search of the car & her purse. She had a matching receipt to the 1 described by her friend from the tattoo parlor; barely legible writing noting `tit/lip special' and something she couldn't decipher. It worried her that after the word `special' was a word that looked suspiciously like `permanent,' whatever that meant. There was also a receipt from a bar she vaguely remembered as being downtown. The amount was not so impressive that she would've thought she'd be blind *****. She resolved to visit the strange bar if she found nothing else-it was on the way to her lunch date on the Plaza. Inside the bar was more brightly lit than she remembered. She didn't recognize the young men working behind the bar, though 1 eyed her for a moment & nudged his buddy. She blushed, wondering why they were staring, & hurried beyond the bar to the dance floor & booths at the back, looking for someone she knew. She saw Erica, a week night waitress filling napkin dispensers, & after exchanging a somewhat awkward greeting, Melissa haltingly explained that she & Kathy couldn't remember all that they'd done the night before & were hoping to find some answers. Erica laughed that she'd been `at other bars' the night before, but told Melissa to wait, & walked over to the guys behind the bar. Melissa watched as Erica spoke, & felt a wave or relief when 1 of the 2 nodded. The other said something to Erica, then, & the waitress shook her head, talking for another moment, & indicating a height with her hand, Melissa guessed she was describing Kathy. Again the 1st man nodded, while the second shrugged but agreed. Erica turned, a strange expression on her face. She hurried back & motioned for Melissa to sit in the booth she'd been working. "Steve & Greg worked the bar last night. They say you & your friend were in about 9." "That'd be about right," Melissa nodded, "What's wrong?" the waitress' expression was increasingly worrisome. "Well, I told them I think they're thinking of different women, `cause I know you're both married & just come to unwind." Melissa nodded, "But they insist you had a drink with a guy they'd never seen before, & shortly all 3 of you left. Greg thinks it wasn't even 10, yet." Melissa nodded, trying not to show any emotion. She waited, hiding her hands beneath the table so Erica wouldn't see they were shaking. "That's not all they said, is it?" Erica blushed, but shook her head, "No. They said you 2 were hanging all over this guy. They figured he was about to get doubly lucky." "They'd never seen him before?" "Nope. He paid cash, tipped all right but not great," she smiled, "In fact, they said the only reason they noticed was that he was black, & was leaving with the 2 best looking women in the place." Something in Melissa's expression must have concerned the younger woman, because she reached across the table, "Is something wrong?" Melissa managed to shake her head, mumbling her thanks, & telling Erica they'd remember her help the next time they were in. The sprightly girl smiled, "Don't worry, you 2 are some of my best customers." Melissa tried to smile in reply as she stood. She managed not to look at the bartenders, who were still watching her, as she hurried outside & to her car. Seated behind the wheel, she sat shaking for several moments, amazed at what she'd heard-she & Kathy had left the bar with a black man? It was surreal. She started to dial Kathy's cell phone, but stopped, resolved to check out the 2nd bar to which she'd found the receipt. Digging it out of her purse, she threw some trash-used Kleenex, empty gum wrappers, & the crinkles edge of a black plastic wrap-to the ground. There was more than a receipt, she realized; there was a matchbook with the address. She breathed a sigh of relief that nothing was written inside as she pulled onto 75th street and headed toward I35. The Edge was a techno club, the latest incarnation in a string of glitzy but short-lived themes. The success of the club Melissa had heard depended on its `varied' clientele, a polite way of calling it a gay bar. So she wasn 't surprised to see both men & women watching her as she entered the place, which even in the afternoon was dark, with black lights & dim neon lights hanging from the ceiling in chaotic arrays. She approached the bar, where a bearded man was wiping glasses & hanging them on the overhead rack in preparation for the night's customers. He looked at her once, then more steadily, holding a glass in his hand. "I thought I told you I didn't want to see you in here, again." "I'm sorry, I don't understand." "Look, lady. You're a knock out & so was your friend, & I know we have a lot of interesting people around here, but you can't behave like you did last night. I coulda got closed down, & you 2 shoulda got arrested." "I'm sorry," Melissa stammered again, blushing fiercely, "I'm just. My friend & I? We don 't know exactly what happened last night. I was hoping you could." The man shook his head, "I shoulda known. Tried something new, last night? Booze ain 't enough to get you up? You waltzed in with this big black guy, had a couple drinks, & flirted with the bartenders & waitresses, both. That's cool. We expect that. I don't even mind when you get up on the tables to dance if you're good, like you 2 were. But I can't have you flashing your tits in here. & I certainly can't tolerate public sex acts." "Public." "Yes, that's what I call blowing the guy at the edge of the dance floor. I swear, condom or not, I can't have that going on out here. it's bad enough when you people use the bathroom for your quickies." His tone softened as he saw Melissa trembling, "Look, I don't mean there's anything wrong with what y' all did. you just can't do it in here like that." She nodded numbly, "The guy didn't put up a fuss & you left without any problem when we asked. We want you back, just not acting like that." Melissa nodded, & feebly, managed, "Um, was there anything. unusual about our flashing people on the tables?" The guy stared at her as if he hadn't heard. She blushed more deeply, "Were there any weird rings or piercings or anything?" The guy shook his head, "Honey, if you're that far gone, you need help. Trust me, this life will eat you alive," he looked pointedly at her left hand & the wedding band, "Go home. Be with your ******. Don't let this ruin your life." Melissa 's legs felt unsteady as she returned to her car, wondering what the man meant. When he'd spoken, she'd wondered if he knew something he wasn't saying, but the reality of what had happened was so shocking she wasn't thinking clearly at all. She checked her watch, hoping Kathy would have some answers. Lunch at the Classic Cup was subdued. Kathy had her head in her hands over a cup of coffee when Melissa sat down. Her friend looked up; to Melissa's surprise, she'd been crying. "What's wrong?" she had a sudden fear she didn' t know the worst of it. Kathy shook her head, waiting until the intrusive waiter took Melissa's drink order. Kathy didn't look up as she began to speak, "God, Mel. I don't know where to start. We were there last night. & we weren't alone. There was a black guy with us. The man at the shop. Can you believe I let a strange man do. this to my pussy." She glanced around self-consciously; tables at the Cup were close, but no one was seated nearby. "He said. He told me we'd come in asking for `matching work.' The guy was suggesting we get clit rings, but when he mentioned they had a sale on `tits & lips' doing a nipple & labia ring, the guy told us that sounded good. & we agreed. He showed me where we signed. No waver or nothing. It's our names, all right." "Oh, God," Melissa mumbled, aware that her friend was corroborating what she'd learned. "That's not all," Kathy took a deep breath, "We said we wanted `permanent closures.'" "What?" "Permanent closures. Had you noticed the clear stuff on the thick part of the rings?" Melissa nodded. "That's epoxy. like Super Glue. It fused the ring so it can only be cut off." She looked around again, & shivered, "But we also made a down payment for tattoos. The man said we `hadn't decided yet' & the guy we were with told him we'd be back another time. I told him neither of us remembered a thing, & he just shrugged & said we'd `seemed all right to him. ' The pig. He laughed that `our lover' wanted us to get the piercings on opposite sides so he could `tell us apart in the dark.' He said the guy wanted to be sure we'd still be able to fuck that night, & went so far as to tell me that based on what was leaking out of us, he'd bet we'd already been a round or 2." There was a mix of humiliation & defiance in her expression when she looked up at Melissa. "I asked him how he wasn't surprised that we didn't remember what had happened, & he just shrugged & told me that in his line of work, nothing he sees surprised him anymore, & added that `at least we'd taken it outside before we were all over the guy we were with.' Then he told me to come back whenever we'd decided what we wanted & where." Melissa related what she'd learned, the mention of oral sex and condoms, though her friend's words had effectively dashed any hope they'd stayed protected, & the dancing & exhibitionism. The women were silent through much of lunch, each trying to come to grips with what had happened. How could mothers & devoted wives get in such trouble for going out for a couple drinks. Melissa tried not to think about what could happen if her husband learned of what had really happened. Or her employer. Kathy was in no better position. Her husband was less tolerant of anything he considered `liberal' & her job as a legal secretary would be in as much danger if people thought she behaved like that routinely. Looking at her friend, Melissa could see how the bartenders-or any man-might be interested in a tryst. They regularly turned down offers to dance, as well as outright propositions. Her friend had the graceful lines of an athlete, standing 5'10" but weighing only 140#, a willowy figure who still managed enough bust to attract attention, & whose legs & ass even Melissa found attractive. Melissa was no less fit-both women played tennis & golf in the summer and swam at the Y in the winter-though she was shorter, standing only 5'5", weighing 115#. In contrast to her friend's blonde bob & sparkling green eyes, Melissa's jet-black hair reached the small of her back, & her clear gray eyes were more guarded and appraising. Melissa had the larger chest, though neither was top-heavy by any standard. Melissa tanned, while her friend avoided the sun whenever possible, though a dusting of freckles was faintly visible on her nose. Uncharacteristically, each opted for dessert before Melissa returned to the topic of their activities that day. "I can't believe it. I mean, if I could at least remember something." Kathy nodded, "But then I tell myself I don't want to remember. I mean, ignorance is bliss, right? We aren't sure we did anything." Melissa eyed her friend, "I had dried cum in my crotch this morning, Kathy. If it wasn't Jeff." she swallowed suddenly, unable to finish, then took a breath, "God. I don't know what he'll do when he finds out." "Why should he find out?" Kathy challenged, "We didn't try to do anything. We certainly didn't enjoy it! Don't punish yourself." "But I." "You made a mistake. So did I. Just don't let it happen again," she paused, "But I agree, I wish I knew how it happened. Did we try something someone gave us? We had to be drugged somehow, unless it was aliens," she snorted. Melissa nodded, "But that's rule 1: no drinks from strangers. We never do that!" Kathy nodded, then shrugged. "So what do we do, now?" Melissa asked her friend. Though Kathy was only 4 months older (both were 28), she was the decision maker. "Well, we don't stop our girls' night out." "But." "Look, Mel, if we stop, we won't get to start again later. & our husbands might get suspicious if we suddenly stopped after." she glanced down at her blouse as if she expected the ring to be visible, "This. So we'll go to a different bar or to the movies or to Barnes & Noble. I don't care, but I still need some time away from home." Melissa nodded; as usual her friend was making sense, "Just think of the rings & the tattoo payment as our reminder not to let our guard down to anyone else." The women paid the outrageous bill, then spent a blissful afternoon shopping before returning home to their families & the rest of the weekend. Over the rest of the weekend, Melissa was even able to forget sometimes what had undoubtedly happened. She adapted to the strange sensations of the jewelry rubbing against her clothes, though panties remained a no-no. The time she did consider the lost night, she was aware of a nagging suspicion she & Kathy were forgetting something, but could not place what it was. By mutual agreement, they went to the movies the next week, then sat in a coffee shop relating the week's trials. A month passed without any apparent problem. They stayed away from the bars, shopping or eating out or seeing `chick flicks.' Both women visited their gynecologist to be sure there was no problem that could be transmitted to their husbands, & were relieved when there was none.
Part II The man moved easily through the crowd, attracting no undue attention. He was a partier among partiers to anyone observing. Bigger than most, certainly, but even that he minimized, hunching slightly, `thinking' small as it was. He kept a fresh Ginger Ale in hand at all times, sizing up the crowd, looking for his opportunities. Or to follow up on past successes, as he had been waiting to do for more than a month. Tom was a recruiter of sorts. He found dancers for the clubs downtown, & even for out of state-and occasionally out of country-clients. For nearly 15y he'd been finding willing young women to go on stage & expose themselves for dollar tips, but in the last 5y he'd developed a more specialized, if unadvertised, service. He was a man who could `get' a woman for a buyer. Simply provide the desired traits, & he would search them out. & willingness to participate was completely optional, thanks to his little friends. He had used the `roofies' increasingly, 1st to procure otherwise inaccessible women for his own pleasure, but then, to expand his business, as well. He smiled. In 2y he'd established a premiere `escort service' made up predominantly of housewives who had fallen into his trap. Their behavior was amazingly consistent. After a night with him, in which he'd make sure they did outrageous things, they invariably tried to ignore whatever had happened. None ever seemed to consider that he had their names & addresses, their credit card numbers & house keys & day planners long enough to make copies; or that he had them long enough to be sure he could. encourage future cooperation. Of course, he seldom used the Polaroids anymore, though he never passed up a chance to get pictures. Cheap airfare had allowed a more convincing manner of guaranteeing cooperation & turning a profit at the same time. He even had some of the wives in his stable flying to service out of town customers. He eyed the crowd of this bar, aware that they had come here again, the 1st time since he'd picked them up. He smiled, remembering that night with a rare fondness-the women were truly talented, if somewhat uninspired. He fingered the vial of tablets in his pocket & considered his options. He could let them have their evening uninterrupted, or. He stepped forward & caught the bartender's attention, "What's tonight's special?" he asked, already knowing the answer. "Blue Hawaii," the bartender answered. Tom nodded & held up 2 fingers & a $10 spot. A minute later, he sauntered to the table where his women-he already thought of them that way-were sitting, nearly empty pina coladas on the table. "Hello, ladies," he'd pinched a tray from the server's station, & uncovered a pin approximating that worn by the waiters & waitresses, taking only enough time to add a healthy dose of crushed Rohypnol to each. "The bartender says you're regulars," he continued his spiel, "& this is tonight's special drink, the Blue Hawaii. Compliments of the bar," he waved in the direction of the bar, having waited until the bartender was turned away with another customer." "That's OK," the brunette began, but he waved her off, "Seriously, please. The folks who ordered this left, & I can't drink them," he forced a smile, ready to go to plan B if there was a problem. the pictures were tucked in his jacket-2 envelopes with their names, addresses, & other pertinent information hand written on the outside. Instead, the blonde shrugged, taking 1 of the drinks from the tray. Her friend-Kathy-followed, & nodding his thanks, Tom turned, ostensibly to return to the bar. He took his time circling the central drink station, ditching the tray & hiding his nametag in the process. From the opposite side, he watched as the ladies sipped at their drinks. This was the risky part-if another man hit on them after the drug was working, but before he could get there, they might give someone else a freebie. He waited, willing himself to be patient & the women to finish their drinks. The brunette was 1st, & Tom took the opportunity to swing by, again posing as a waiter-the lack of a nametag shouldn't worry either woman any longer. The 1st time, he' d simply followed their waitress, adding the drug to their drinks when she paused to serve another group in the close confines of the booths. It had been a matter of waiting the right amount of time, then taking control of the helpless women. He smiled, remembering how much fun the evening had been, & anticipating more such enjoyment. When he leaned over the table & said, "Want another Blue Hawaii?" the brunette paused for a moment, as if she was having difficulty understanding the question, which hadn't really been a question. She nodded slowly, & he smiled & turned away, hurrying to the bar, where he purchased 3 more drinks, dosing each as he circled the bar-avoiding the real wait staff. Lastly, he popped 2 of the Romazicon tabs-an `antidote' of sorts for the Rohypnol. There wasn't so much he'd get loopy in the drink, but he wanted to remain clear headed, & he had to get the ladies high enough to obey him. Instead of leaving their drinks at the table as he'd done before, Tom sat down beside the blonde & slid the drinks in front of each before leaning back to look at them. "Damn, but you 2 are something," he said appreciatively. The blonde leaned away from him slightly, "Look, thanks, but we don't take drinks from other people," the blonde's words slurred slightly, as if she'd had a few drinks. Tom knew better; some people were extremely susceptible to the drug. He shrugged, "What? You think I drugged these or something? Here," he took a healthy drink from each glass then sat back, "Besides, you already had a drink I bought you, remember?" Panic sparked behind the blonde's eyes, before he went on, leading her off track, "I was your `waiter' a minute ago? I figured that would at least earn me time to sit here for a minute or 2." The brunette eyed him warily but did not speak. "Look, I saw you 2 in here the other day. maybe a month ago. You didn't have a problem leaving with a black guy that night." he dangled the bait, wondering how they would react. The women looked at each other, before the brunette said, "You saw us with another black guy?" "Sure did. I remember thinking what a lucky guy he was," Tom took a drink of the Blue Hawaii in front of him, willing the women to do the same. The blonde seemed terribly thirsty, suddenly. Her friend considered it for a moment. "You know him? The guy we were with?" "Not specifically. I mean, he hangs on the club scene; I'd heard he deals in crank & some of the other. illicit pharmaceuticals, but I don't go for that stuff, man." "Would you recognize him if you saw him?" "You kidding? What's wrong, he stiff you or something?" The brunette didn't answer, instead taking a healthy drink. He watched, trying to gauge their reactions, then looked around, "He's been here off & on the last couple weeks. He'll swing through, like he's looking for someone, then he leaves. I dunno," he shrugged, "Maybe he's trying to pay you back if he owes you money." Neither woman spoke, but they didn't tell him to leave, either. Tom nursed his drink, pretending to swallow any time the women were drinking. Soon their glasses were empty, & he insisted on sharing his with them. By that time, neither woman was saying much, spending their time staring blankly ahead of them for increasing stretches. He smiled inwardly, then said, "Hey, I think he's been hanging out at that place downtown, the Edge, a lot. I'll take you there." As he spoke, he caught the blonde gently by the arm, lifting her out of her seat. She didn't protest, but let him guide her out of the booth, the brunette following behind. He checked to be sure the bartender was otherwise occupied, then headed to the shadowed aisle at the edge of the club, staying out of sight until they were outside. "Where's your car?" the brunette pointed. It was a late model Jeep Grand Cherokee. He asked for the keys, then headed toward downtown, turning off not toward the Edge, but toward the Municipal Airport. There was new service from a small carrier from there to Las Vegas, & he had plans for his latest mares. Neither woman protested the change in venue, & when prompted, each called home, leaving a message-he was glad their families were out, making it easier to carry off-that Melissa had 1 a weekend getaway for 2 that weekend only so they were flying out, & promising to let the husbands have a weekend soon. After that, it was a simple matter to get them aboard the small business jet. On board were a few of Tom's friends & customers. Each had paid handsomely to help in assuring the housewives would soon be his willing, if not eager, whores. He carefully plied them with more drinks, keeping the level of roofies high enough in their system that they were docile & obedient. When he told them to strip after take-off, they did without hesitation. He already had the camcorder rolling, being careful not to let any of the men's faces be seen. The women were soon standing naked in the narrow aisle, & he had them turn, getting nice close-ups of each woman in all her glory. A moment later, he had both women masturbating in the aisle seats. As he had noted was often the case, the women seemed less drugged when being made to pleasure themselves. At his urging off camera, each woman said for the camcorder, "I want to join the mile high club," before 1 of his friends, who quickly obliged the drugged women, bending them over seat arms & fucking them hard & fast, doggie style. The women moaned & groaned at the urging of the men taking them-it didn't have to be Tom giving the orders-begging for more when the 1st man had cum deep in their cunts, & seemingly welcoming the in flight gang bang that occurred. When every man had enjoyed each of the women, he recorded a nice bit where they lay in the aisle, eating each other clean. Then, just before they began the descent into Vegas, he had the tattoo artist go to work. The man had demanded Tom pay for the portable equipment when he'd 1st approached him with his `business proposal,' but it had been well worth it. The guy got a `free ride ' on these flights, but he provided advance notice if the women Tom `recruited' were searching for him, as these had, & his work really was 1st class. Tom prepped each woman, who then sauntered to the tiny `studio' set up in the plane, & casually asked if the artist would trade them a tattoo for a pussy fuck. When the artist said, "Sure, what do you want?" the women giggled-as ordered to do-then said, "This," Kathy handing over the page Tom had given her. It was a bastardized version of the mouse, Jerry, from Tom & Jerry, with 1 hand holding an oversized erect cock. All of his `girls' had that tattoo somewhere-he'd let the women choose, as addled as they remained. Often, his soon to be whores would just settle back in the chair, ready for the agreed upon fuck, & letting the tat be placed down by their pubes. The occasional, especially willful woman would choose an ankle or back or breast, but both of his new recruits obediently reclined in the provided seats, letting the man ink them, then ball them. Tom always enjoyed the fact that the camera showed him carefully donning latex gloves to prevent infection while doing the skin work, after which he'd strip the gloves off with a snap, drop his zipper, & plunge his naked cock into their exposed pussy, sans any sort of protection. He'd just finished banging the petite blonde when the wheels hit the tarmac, signaling their landing. The men smiled & talked among 1 another, aware that they'd get similar treatment, but from more responsive women, on the ride home. For the next day, they were free to enjoy the sites of the City that Never Sleeps. Tom's 1 rule-to protect his investment-was that the men working to help him break his new whores in not fool around on the side; the last thing he needed was to get any of his women infected with some STD. That had been difficult at 1st, since there weren't many women, but with almost 45 women working for him directly, & another 2 dozen he'd `recruited' working for similar outfits, the men had no end of available pussy. He told the women to get dressed, noticing that neither wore any panties, & aware that it was likely because of the labia rings, with which he'd begun their indoctrination. They obediently downed another glass of spiked champagne before he led them down the stairs to a waiting limo, which whisked them into the city, & a prepared suite. Once there, he again had them strip, then fucked each of them in their pussy & ass, making sure to leave a load in each of them before collecting their things. He gave each another drink, more heavily spiked, which put them out completely, then spent some time quick-dubbing the tape with his camcorder, leaving the rough copy & a note on the television cabinet. He'd stop by the next morning, or almost morning. they had a full day ahead of them.
Part III Melissa rolled to her side, groaning as dim awareness surfaced. The room was completely dark. She shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot on the hard mattress beneath her. Something was wrong, though she was not sure exactly what. She blinked, looked at the red numbers of the alarm clock: 4AM. Her husband was pressed against her right side. That was strange-he usually lay to her left. She was trying to figure why she was seeing red & not blue clock numbers, when she put a questioning hand against Jeff's back, & found none of the hair she expected. That quickly, Melissa was completely awake. She sat up, pushing the covers down. Even in the dark, it was obvious it was not her bedroom. Panic clutched at her throat. She looked beside her, almost against her will, & relaxed fractionally when she realized it was Kathy snoring quietly beside her. Her friend was naked from the waist up, & Melissa realized with no small embarrassment she was totally naked. A fragment of memory from the last time she'd awoken so disoriented made her reach to her crotch & right breast, fearful of what she would find. no new rings were in evidence. Pushing at Kathy's shoulder, she reached blindly for the bed stand lamp & turned it on. She reached belatedly for the covers to hide herself, but the room was empty. Kathy groaned, rolling to her back, still ******* of anything as Melissa ran to the windows & looked out, trying to ignore the now familiar fullness between her legs. It wasn't the squalor of a `cheater's motel' she already knew, based on the quality of the furnishing. A brightly lit city stretched out far below her-not Kansas City. Her breath caught, as she tried to guess where she was. She saw familiar names of `the Strip' & knew, but couldn't imagine how." "Melissa?" Kathy was starting to figure something was wrong. She sat up, as well, & Melissa gasped as she looked at her friend. "What's. Oh, God," Kathy answered, staring at Melissa in equal shock, then down at her own naked body. Melissa eyed her own torso, a sob escaping her throat as she saw the lewd teddy bear or mouse marring her pubes. She wiped at it, wishing it were painted on, but knowing better. "Oh, God," Melissa asked, searching her friend's face for answers, "What's happened to us?" "I don't know," Kathy answered, an audible quake in her voice. She glanced around, stepping to the clothes cabinet & pulling on a robe. She threw the 2nd to Melissa, who said, "What about our clothes?" The women searched the suite, finding none of their clothes, & worse, their purses were missing. Kathy saw the videotape first. Melissa had tried the phone, but could not learn who was paying for the room in which they stayed-hotel policy the clerk claimed. Kathy got her friend's attention, then slid the tape into the player with shaking hands. The tape hissed to life, showing no fewer than 7 men in what they realized belatedly was a small jet. The camera passed over them initially at chest height, showing everyone was clothed. The screen went dark, & a moment later, showed them stripping, then showing themselves off to the camera & the strange men. Kathy gasped when the tape jumped again, showing her masturbating feverishly, the sounds of her moans caught on camera. She didn' t realize that she didn't yet have the tattoo. Melissa pointed that out softly as the frame shifted to show her matching performance on the opposite side of the aisle. The frame shifted again, & the women heard themselves asking to join the mile high club, after which there began an endless session during which 1 man after another fucked their apparently willing bodies. As she saw the 1st man to take her-a heavy set black with a thick, strangely bent penis-stiffen, thrusting into her fully & saying, "Ahhh, take my load, slut. Tell me how much you like it," after which her own voice answered, "I like it. Give it to me," Melissa stood stiffly & hurried into the shower, where Kathy joined her a moment later. The women were relieved that the showerhead was detachable, & douched as best as they could, paying no attention to the fact that they were doing such intimate activities together. Long after the cold water had run out, they exited the oversized stall, & after drying off sat together on the couch in the main room in front of the TV. "We have to know," Melissa said quietly after a time. It scared her how quiet Kathy was. Her friend nodded stiffly, then picked up the remote. As they watched the seemingly endless tape, each had to stop repeatedly at 1st, but by the end, they were fast forwarding through the intolerable sections rather than breaking down in tears. Again, neither had any memory of what had happened, but the images were more than plain. "Jeff would leave me," Melissa took a halting breath, "What does he want? Why are we here?" Kathy shook her head helplessly, "I wish I knew. All I remember is that there was a different waiter." Melissa nodded, "& we had the special. Blue something." "That's right." Kathy paused, "Why do I think he wasn't a waiter?" Both women sat in misery, eyes still glued to the screen. The same disgusting man who'd been 1st with Melissa was finishing in Kathy, & the brunette nodded, looking to her friend, "Fred's sort of. prejudiced. 1 look at this & he'd probably kill me." "What do we do?" Melissa looked to her friend, who simply shrugged, "I guess we call home. `Hey honey, I was kidnapped & gang ***** & I don't remember any of it, but now I'm naked in a hotel suite in Las Vegas with no clothes or money. Oh, & you know those piercings? You won't believe the souvenir I have now.' He'd have his lawyer in the kitchen & a restraining order for the kids before he thought about wiring money for a ticket home." Melissa feared Jeff's reaction would not be much different. The screen had gone blank, & the women sat staring at it for a moment. "What should we do with it?" "Burn it. There's a copy, of course. We're well & truly screwed," Kathy brooded for a moment standing abruptly & walking to the window, "It's like this is a gilded cage, you know? I would have given anything to be in a place like this with Fred, but this. this is horrible." Melissa nodded her agreement, starting when the picture cleared suddenly & a voice boomed over the TV speaker. "Hello, sluts!" is said. The camera was on, but it was the cameraman speaking, & there was no sound. The picture was of them asleep on the bed, Melissa's legs spread, a steady trickle of cum running down her inner thigh. Kathy was on her stomach, & as the camera panned down, the photographer's cock was pictured, thrust fully into the brunette's ass. As they watched, he pulled out for an unbelievable time before slipping free of her pucker, which remained obscenely open, glistening from the flash where his jism sat in her bowels. "Now you know why you're sore there," he began, a smile in his voice as the camera panned back to Melissa, "& this is mine. You loved it," he added. You've probably guessed, you've been quite naughty girls in the last 12 hours. I'd guess you've had more men than either of you had before you were married." he paused for effect. Melissa shivered-Jeff had been her only until. She glanced at Kathy, who nodded & held up 3 fingers. The voice continued, "I bet you're wondering how you got here? I'd tell you, but then you'd be tempted to use this tape in a way I don't want it used, so when you're ready to talk, just dial 1578 & ask for Tom-that's why little Jerry is there by your nice little pussies, so you remember who I am. I'll stop by. I wouldn't try to leave if I were you. there are better copies of the tape, as well as some pictures," the camera panned to the bed beside Melissa's naked flesh & a black hand held several Polaroids down so they could see images of each woman sucking & fucking the same gigantic erection, sans condom, in Melissa's car. "So if you try to get home without money & wearing hotel issue robes, you'll still have some explaining to do. I especially like what you say on the video, though. that can't be faked, can it?" The screen went to static, & Kathy walked back over, turning the tape off with a vicious jab. "That arrogant fuck! Thinks he can do this to us." the tirade died as she realized how badly off they were. Melissa was sobbing on the couch, & after another moment, Kathy went to comfort her friend. When Melissa had regained some control, Kathy stood & moved to the telephone, paging through the binder lying beside the phone. When she picked up, Melissa gasped, "What are you?" but Kathy held up a finger, then calmly asked for soft drinks, bottled water, Caesar salads, and two of the tremendously expensive entr?es. She hung up & smiled, "The least we can do is enojoy the amenities before we see what the prick wants." Melissa couldn' t hide her smile, though she wondered if they would pay in the end for the defiance. "We're in trouble, aren't we?" Kathy nodded, then shrugged, "But who knows, maybe he wants industrial secrets from our husbands or something." both women laughed, "Let's just wait & see what he says."
Part IV Dwayne had expected the call to be later, & wondered how or why the women had gotten up when they had. He'd placed a 6AM wake-up call, & the ringing of his own phone at just that time had confused him for a moment. Instead, an angry but subdued female voice had said, "We're ready," & had hung up. Nothing more. He'd gotten up, checked that he'd left nothing to identify him in the room, then left, turning & walking away from the elevators toward the far suite, where his new `girls' had been installed. One of the perks of his job was comp time at several of the casinos, which aided in his `recruiting efforts.' Vegas might be advertising itself as a ****** vacation spot, but there were still the vices that had 1st brought Capone & his cronies around. Dwayne made himself valuable to members of the mafia, the yakuza, the Russians, Czechs, Poles, Columbians, & increasingly, Arabs, who while not crime families, held women in different regard than the people in Europe & North America. He didn't bother knocking, but let himself in with the keycard, stepping into the room as if he owned it, which was the case. The women were sitting on the couch, talking quietly to each other. Dwayne often found his women thought they were being constantly watched, which would have been impossible in a suite occasionally used by Royalty, but the illusion was a handy one. He stopped, selecting a bottle of Jack Daniels from the servi-bar before sitting opposite them. He casually threw a boot up onto his knee & took a hit of the Jack, waiting for the women to speak. "What are we doing here?" the brunette flipped her hair angrily, though the effect was comical as she sat in the hotel robe. "You're my guests, of course. Well, that's not exactly true. Let's say you're now my employees.
