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Girls' Nightmare Out
Rogue Alan
11/0-9/02, revision 2/03
(tattoo/piercing; cheat; stranger; interracial; gang bang; exhibitionism; anal;
prostitution; bondage; lesbianism; mind control; rape)
Part 12
Melissa and Kathy barely had time to get settled on the bed before the door
opened, without so much as a knock, and two large strangers filled the hallway.
They grinned appreciatively at the scantily clad women, murmuring to one
another, and reaching some agreement, they moved into the room.
"Tom said that we're first." the older man leered, his face pocked with acne
scars. "Guess we'll get you broken in right."
He selected Kathy, who nodded, flashing him a come hither smile, and
consciously licking her lips.
The man's smile broadened, "Damn! He said you were bored with your men and
wanted some real cock. I thought he was talking shit."
"Yeah. We got to call ol' Tom more often, if he's gettin' girls like this."
The second man was already fondling Melissa, who was pressing her chest up
against the man's groping hands. Both women knew that taking too long would
get them in trouble, Tom had been careful to explain the difference between
entertaining, which they did on most nights, and fucking, which they were
expected to do for the next couple of hours. The men had paid to cum, not to
party, and as soon as the women got them off, they were to clean up and leave.
New meat would be at the door in under ten minutes.
If the line of waiting Johns backed up, the women would be held responsible.
The first time they'd done a Saturday stint of 'pulling a train', as Tom
referred to it, Kathy had thought she'd be sick every time a man moved between
her legs, or thrust his cock into her mouth, but she'd gotten through it. As
she got cleaned up afterwards, Melissa had asked the more experienced girl,
who'd been working the couch of all places, while they had been using the
beds, how she could enjoy being used as a cum repository. The girl had laughed.
"Honey, if you don't make them think that you like it, it can take a man all
day to get off. But if you make him think that he's driving you wild, he'll
cream before he's all the way inside of you."
So she tried it the next time, and while it still wasn't all that enjoyable
for her, it made things go much faster. Late in the third session, she'd
actually climaxed, while she was begging a stranger to 'fuck her harder', and
while she had been embarrassed and humiliated, just thinking about it later,
like she had been in the first few sessions, whenever she came while she was
'working', it had made things much easier to deal with. So she stopped feeling
ashamed, when the random thought occurred, as her hands rose to tear at the
man's trousers, as if she couldn't get into them fast enough, or when she
actually climaxed while faking a cum with a John. Melissa had leaned back,
opting to play coy for her first John.
"Do you want me baby?" she cooed, letting an index finger trace over her
abdomen to her crotch. The man's answer was his thick tongue licking his meaty
lips, before he began to work at the belt of his jeans. The men knew the
routine too. Taking too long would mean paying Tom more, since they'd only
paid for a twenty minute fuck.
When one of them complained to Tom, as he ponied up a wad of $20's, to cover
his bill, that twenty minutes was barely enough time to get hard, the pimp
would laugh and assure them that they wouldn't have a problem getting it up or
getting off in that amount of time.
The men didn't waste any time with foreplay either, as the only pleasure that
they were worried about was their own. The man ready to mount Melissa's petite
frame didn't even bother removing his boots, leaving his jeans up around the
tops of his boots, and leaning forward, between her wide spread thighs, to set
his cock head into her slit. It met her hand however, and in the next moment,
she rolled a day-glo yellow condom down his shaft as he thrust into her. He
considered complaining about it, but he knew the rules, and was amazed that
the woman had done it so quick and so skillfully. It was like a sexual sleight
of hand, even as she pulled him into her cunt.
A moment later he was grunting and pumping against the white slut's spread
thighs, spurred on by the groans and squeaks she was giving, each time he
plunged into her. For a moment, he didn't think that she could possibly be the
'white housewife' that Tom had claimed her to be, but a glance at her hand
showed a wedding ring on the fourth finger of her left hand, and he doubted
that the rock was a cubic zirconium.
He looked up to see his buddy thrusting madly into the brunette, whose legs
were cinched tightly around his hips, letting her pump her pelvis up to meet
each of his strokes. He felt the blonde pumping up to meet his own driving
cock, and heard her quiet exclamations urging him on. Then the small form
beneath him went stiff. Sure enough, she was cuming, he thought to himself,
proud to be able to get a pro off so quickly. He groaned a moment later,
letting go as he pushed himself fully into the trembling woman for a final
time. He didn't dare look at the others anymore, no use letting on that he'd
cum before his buddy. The woman beneath him shifted though, and he pulled out
reluctantly, to find that the other pair was done as well.
He didn't stop to think about the fact that the woman who'd been a raving
nymphomaniac just moments before, was calmly wiping her inner thighs with a
hotel washcloth, or that she had deftly stripped the cum filled condom off of
his cock, cleaning his shaft with the same wet towel in a single stroke. His
friend had been similarly dealt with, and in less than ten minutes after they'd
entered the room, they were sheepishly buttoning and zipping up their pants.
Both agreed without comment to take the stairs, at least part of the way down,
to make it look like they'd lasted longer with Tom's white housewife whores.
They didn't know that Kathy was already ringing the prearranged number, to let
Tom know that they were done with the first pair. The men were turning past
the door to the hall two floors below, before either managed a coherent thought.
"Damn, was she fine."
"Oh yeah. We should've paid for more time, and taken them again."
"Yeah. Swapped." The men stopped at a landing, glancing at each other, as they
reviewed Tom's rules, nothing would've precluded their doing just that.
"Shit!" they both sighed at the same time. Then left the stairwell to take the
elevator.
Melissa and Kathy were already cleaned up, and were ready for their next
'guests'. Kathy eyed her friend, who was taking the opportunity to reapply
some lube.
"Need some help with that?" she asked with a smile.
Melissa looked up and giggled. "Imagine what they'd think walking in on that."
The women eyed one another for a moment more, before Kathy leaned down,
collecting the tube from her friend and lover's hand. She applied the water
soluble lubricant to her friend's pussy with casual ease, teasing just enough
so that Melissa groaned, her hips shifting slightly toward her friend's
exploring fingers.
"Stop it, or I'll decide to see if it helps us get through this faster."
"Now who's trying to get us in trouble?" the blonde retorted, and nodding,
Kathy stopped. She'd barely had time to return the various bottles and tubes
to the bag tucked under the night stand, before their next 'guests' arrived.
The men didn't bother to knock, and certainly didn't take any precaution
by locking the door either.
Moving to the bed, they didn't bother with words, as they eyed the women, and
then each other. By some unspoken agreement, each took one of the pair, right
where they were lay, waiting on the rumpled bed spread. As she felt another
strange cock slipping into her pussy, true contact prevented only by the thin
layer of latex of the condom, Melissa wondered if the guests next door could
hear what was going on, or given the protesting mattress and springs, the
people in the room below.
Spartan was too nice a term for the security office on the ground floor of the
run down hotel. The main room held the battered video monitors, and the base
unit for the hotel's radio system, which teetered on a plywood board table,
against the wall, beside the door. A mismatched pair of worn office chairs was
pushed against the desk in front of the recorders, that sat below the trio of
small black and white screens. The grainy images flickered and shifted at a
regular interval, pausing for a few seconds before stepping to the next camera.
The montage drew Hiram's attention, and for a moment, the stark terror that
had descended with the weight of the guard's broad hand on his shoulder eased.
It returned with full force, as he saw that at the end was a newer video setup,
with three professional recorders running, and a pair of split screen monitors
showing several angles of three rooms with women in various stages of undress.
It didn't take him a second to recognize the women in the right upper corner
of one screen, as being the pair that he'd just left. The larger man hadn't
let him stop to watch though. He'd casually pushed him through the second door
and into a smaller, windowless room. The door had closed behind him, cutting
off almost all light. Hiram Schultz had groped his way along the walls, one
hand waving into the room, as he felt for the straight backed chair that he'd
seen in the moment before the door had shut.
He didn't know how long he had sat there before the door opened. He blinked,
as an imposing silhouette joined him, the door closing behind the other man
again. Hiram blinked at the greenish scar, that the light had burned into his
vision, giving the room a false light that didn't reveal his visitor. He'd
been alone long enough for some of the fear to become anger, first at himself,
then at the women who'd obviously been in on the whole thing, and finally, at
the man who'd so calmly warned him about the 'rules', in a patently illegal
operation.
When the figure leaning against a wall somewhere in the blackness didn't speak,
Hiram opened his mouth, willing the quaver out of his voice. "What do you want?
We had a deal!"
"Yes, we did. And your behavior has jeopardized my entire business."
"I did nothing of the sort."
"The deal was no names."
"They can't possibly know me."
"No? These aren't crack whores, man. They're already wondering why I brought a
Whitey in to shaft them. Then you start in about their husbands. But that's
okay, some of my customers have a bit of an issue with Whitey, and want to
hear that they're better than the bitches' husbands. But this was a special
case, and I said no names. You agreed no names. I guess you didn't believe me
when I said there'd be consequences."
"I'm telling you that they can't possibly know who I am or what this was about!"
"No? Well between the times you was ballin' them like a wild man, all that
shit about being responsible was loud enough that I could hear it down here!"
the voice stopped at that, in an angry hiss. "You don't think they'll wonder
about that?"
"You can't do this to me."
"Can't do what? Can't hold you here, until I decide what to do with you? Trust
me, you're safer in here than out there." Hiram could make out a vague gesture
toward the door. "So tell me, smart guy, what happens the first time she sees
you at one of your society gatherings. You educators do have those, don't you?"
"Of course." Hiram shifted stiffly in the chair, even though he could still
hear the stammer in his voice. "But she's never... I mean, we won't meet there.
He doesn't bring her to school gatherings."
"Uh huh. It only takes once," Tom replied, "and you know what? I don't think
she'd be the one to let on anything had happened. She'd know it in a second,
but her hubby would never know it from her. But you, I worry that you'd fuck
it up somehow."
"You can't use those tapes." Hiram interrupted, "They'd only prove that you're
a pimp, and you'd go to prison for helping them, for forcing them to do this."
"Oh really? Where am I on those tapes? In fact, what makes you think that they
wouldn't say that you were the one who made them do it all? If it were to come
out that is, that they were turning tricks." Tom paused before he continued,
"But that's the only reason we record everything, to make sure that you don't
go around telling everyone that there's a den of inequity, right here under
everyone's nose. That, and to protect the girls, in case you're a freaky deaky.
It isn't good business to threaten my customers, if you know what I mean, so
don't worry 'bout the tape. Hell, I can give you a copy of it if you want, so
you can remember getting back at the guy who made you hate women so much."
Hiram rocked at that, but Tom doubted he had really heard him.
"Then if you're not going to try to blackmail me, why am I here?"
"I already told you. You broke the rules. Now we have to decide how to make
that right."
"I can pay." Tom snorted.
"You can pay for all the tricks that might be lost, if those ladies figure out
what's what? If they spill that to the cops, and take down my whole operation?
I didn't know you were pullin' in seven figures, Professor, 'Cause that's
about what it'd take." Hiram wasn't sure if he believed that comment, but
reminded himself that the man he was talking to hadn't volunteered to turn his
peer's wife into a whore for kicks, it was business to him, pure and simple.
"Then what do you want?" For a moment, Hiram flashed on him, serving some
twisted form of the prostitution the women he'd just possessed endured. The
thought shook him, but Tom didn't leave him to those ludicrous thoughts.
"It's simple really. You're going to get me a new girl." Tom didn't bother
explaining that the woman would be Mike's, he'd meant only to terrify the
little man, to preclude any near term blow-up. Then the guard had shown him
the pictures in the man's wallet. The woman was nearly as stunning as the pair
he'd ensnared at the man's behest, though for the life of him he couldn't
guess what the woman saw in this sniveling geek. He had to be loaded was all
that Tom could figure out. Tom waved off the professor's stammered protest.
"No, no, I don't mean your daughter, if you even have one, or your secretary,
or a co-ed in your Introduction to History class, though that last would be
kind of lucrative. And no, I don't mean that you have to go out and troll the
bars and trick some poor housewife into signing on. Nope, I'm talking about
the slut who's already stepping out on you."
"My wife!" Hiram felt a strange loosening in his gut.
"Sure, the bitch who's fucking another guy. You don't think she deserves this,
as much as the poor women who you just fucked upstairs?" Tom feigned outrage,
"You didn't worry about what this would do to them at all, did you?"
The little man seemed to curl in on himself, and Tom knew that he'd soon have
a new white housewife to offer to his customers.
"Those two up there didn't do a thing to you, but you sold them out to hundreds
of strangers. HUNDREDS. Think about that. Think about the way you just treated
them up there. Neither of them was cheating on you!" he said, as he waved a
hand in the darkness.
"You don't have to say a thing to the bitch. All you have to do is tell me
where she goes. Somewhere where I can make her a little more, uh, cooperative,
without anyone noticing. Then we set her up for a little reeducation, and
you'll have complete revenge. You'll be able to make her squirm, since she
won't know that you know. You'll know that she's being forced to put out for
total strangers, therefore she'll be cheating on the guy that she's cheating
on you with. Punish her for what she did to you."
"I guess... I guess I don't have a choice." Hiram managed after a long moment.
"Oh, you do have a choice. I can let your wife see what you're up to. Or your
employer, two on one, with overtones of violence, I'm sure won't be appreciated
at a Jesuit school, will it? Or I could tell the women that you just fucked,
and let them know why they've been turning tricks all this time. I imagine they
might hunt you down, cut your dick off, and feed it to you. So it's not really
such a hard choice, is it?"
Hiram shook his head morosely. Tom laughed.
"Damn, from the look on your face you'd think that you loved the bitch. Tell
you what. I'll snap some pics of your honey and my girl's man, and anytime you
start to feel guilty, just glance at them, until you remember what she's done
to you." he said, knowing that he already had several such pictures, part of
his background check on the man, before he had agreed to 'recruit' the pair
that was shagging upstairs. "And when she's close to finishing up? I'll help
you catch her at 'work', so that you can leave her, and not get totally ripped
in the divorce."
The professor nodded his head slightly, and Tom hid his smile, thinking about
what Mike would say about the prospect of a new show piece, who'd already shown
a willingness to put out behind her hubby's back.
"All right then. I'll have Marco see that you get to your car. Your job is to
make a list of every place that your wife goes, what she does, who she does it
with, and what she likes. Understand?"
The man bobbed his head, and Tom considered whether he should feel sorry for
the sniveling runt. Then he remembered what was happening to the fine women
more than a dozen floors above their heads, and any sympathy that he'd had,
vanished. The man had brought him two grade 'A' pieces of ass, but was a shit,
who likely deserved to have his woman fuck around of him.
He stepped over to the unlocked door, peeking out at the monitor, to gauge how
things were going, then motioned to the room and nodded, when Marco lifted the
professor's keys. "See that he gets headed home, Marco." Tom said, adding, "We
have a bit of business arranged. He'll be dropping off some papers for you to
get to me." The guard nodded silently, and then stepped around him and into the
room, reaching to the high wall switch, he turned on the light.
Tom waited until they'd left, then checked on the recorders, comparing the
images that he saw on the screens, with what he had expected to see. The girls
on ten were cleaning up between sessions, while the girls on fourteen were
working, he thought, on their fourth group of conventioneers. He noted with
satisfaction that Melissa and Kathy were already on their fourth pair of Johns.
As he watched, the fat man between Melissa's wide spread legs, threw his head
back, and Tom was fairly sure that the businessman from Minnesota was pumping
a load into the condom.
Checking his mental schedule, he decided to shuffle the last pair of men to
the girls on fourteen, who were also running fast, as he wanted to see how well
Mike's 'new idea' was working. He reached for his cell phone, then stopped and
picked up the security handset instead, dialing the clinic number. Mike picked
up on the second ring, asking how things were going.
"Oh, I think I have something that you'll love." Tom said, but didn't elaborate,
"But I thought that I'd meet you at the downtown Gates. I'll bring the ladies,
and we can see how well your 'treatment' works."
"Fine with me," Michael answered, "but when it works, to your satisfaction,
lunch is on you. And when people start to stare, it's not my fault."
Tom snorted his answer, and told Michael that they'd be there in fifteen
minutes, before he abruptly hung up. He radioed Marco to shepherd the women
back to the apartment when everyone was finished, then headed to the elevator
to retrieve Melissa and Kathy.