Girls' Nightmare Out Pt. 01

"But I realized there was something missing-there was no glitter when you showed your nice titties to the crowd. So we went to fix that. You were quite the hit there, as well, I assure you."

"That pig... fucked us?" Kathy was clearly horrified. "Of course. But not that night... He enjoyed that in payment for his services tonight. No, I was the only one who had you that night. First with a condom in the bar, then without—once each—outside the bar before we went to the tattoo parlor." He snapped a finger as if suddenly remembering, "Oh, and then again each afterward, christening the new jewelry, if you will. I drove you home, then got out on the corner of Melissa's street, telling her to be careful getting home." He smiled, "I'm sorry you don't remember our fucking. You enjoyed it, I assure you."

"And tonight? It is still tonight?"

"Oh yes, Saturday morning to be exact. I waited and waited for you two to return on a Friday night." That was a lie—he had followed them frequently in the intervening weeks, but it did not hurt to withhold some information, "So I could... reacquaint myself with your many charms. I happened to know of a jaunt to Vegas, and you were more than willing to go, even when I mentioned that the price was... shall we say, 'servicing' the guests in flight, and doing a few tricks while you were here."

"I don't believe you."

"You have no reason to believe me, I agree. Though I suspect seeing that tape the police would agree with me. But I'll tell you what really happened," he paused, as both women looked at him. "I drugged you. Have you heard of Rohypnol? Roofies? It's a sedative, like Valium, except while on it you can move and speak... basically you act as if you aren't unconscious. And users are more susceptible to suggestion. It made it child's play to do whatever I wanted to do with you." He shifted in his seat, letting them think about that.

"Of course, I had to be careful at first. I couldn't do this without your husbands wondering what had happened. So that first night I was testing things, see? They both showed they can handle change and not get suspicious or jealous. So now all we need to do is get you broken in and working in my stable."

That was another lie—he would have used them regardless of what their husbands did, but they did not need to know that. Kathy had leaned back at the word 'stable.'

"Ah, I guess you're familiar with that term. That's right, I sell women's bodies for men to use. And sometimes for women to use. I provide women for strip clubs, bachelor parties, porn shoots, weekend 'escort' services. I supply the entertainment no one mentions at conventions. I even have a select clientele looking for just the right women to make their rich, pampered wives, but then you're already married, so that's not why I've brought you here." Another lie, most of those he sold to the Arabs left a puzzled husband behind.

"So you expect us to... work for you? As whores."

"Whores... such a nasty word. I consider you call girls. I call, you're my girls... or whoever's I tell you to be. Or call yourselves escorts. I think the new term is 'girlfriend experience.' But consider the alternative. I imagine your husbands wouldn't understand you didn't mean it when they hear you asking total strangers to fuck you. Or when they see how you calmly traded a fuck for a tattoo. Imagine what the school board would think, Melissa; or the fine people at Hammonds, Hammonds, and Bach, Kathy? Your lives would be ruined." He shifted again, shrugging as if it was out of his control.

"But on the other hand," he held up a finger, "If you do what I ask I can protect you from that sad situation. And I don't impose that often. You'll get to live out experiences few women enjoy. You might find out you really do enjoy it; those orgasms weren't chemically induced, you know. Science can't do that yet." The women blushed appropriately, once again. "For now," he continued, "Consider this your probationary period. I don't want you trying to run to the police or your husbands. I've taken steps to assure that either course would lead to your humiliation, and really would not touch me... both things I truly want to avoid. For now I have your clothes and your other things. After you've done your work for me, you'll get those things back, along with the return ticket for the plane leaving tonight. You can be home in bed by 3AM, and even catch a show tonight before we leave."

"What work?" Melissa asked, clearly knowing the answer. Dwayne shrugged.

"I know a couple high rollers who are playing at this hotel. They asked for attractive white ladies to spend some time with. I imagine they'll want to fuck you. The ground rules are simple: They can do nothing that hurts you or marks you. They must wear a condom for any penetration, but you cannot refuse any activity, or the other rules are null and void, as well. They'll probably arrive here in your room in about an hour, after they hit the breakfast buffet.

"Then you have some time to yourselves. Don't waste it, clean up, there's make up in the bathroom so you can freshen up. Because about noon, the magician who headlines here will visit you. Again, you're both to provide whatever he asks, and he'll obey the rules. After he leaves, you'll get a visit from me, just to make sure you've each enjoyed yourselves before you attend the show of your choice. Then it's a simple matter of boarding the plane for the ride home."

"Where we'll be expected to service your friends," Melissa finished. He eyed her.

"Of course, but then you've already been with them, haven't you?" She blushed.

"They didn't... didn't use condoms."

"No. And neither do I. I have the morning after pill for each of you, but after this, you'll be responsible for how you keep yourself from catching." The blonde's brow furrowed. "If you don't want to wind up pregnant it's up to you to get on the pill or an IUD or an implant... You'll find that my friends and I use you as God intended—no barrier between us. They're clean—I make sure. Trust me, you'll find it's not that bad. The magician usually cums inside of ten minutes, then spends the rest of his time tying you up and examining ways to escape. The high rollers... well, let's say they are intent on pleasing the ladies. I really want you to be happy doing your jobs. I'll use you if you aren't, but I think you'll find that enjoying the sex makes putting out easier." He leaned back, "And since there are no strings attached, it can be quite liberating." He did not believe that, but saying it could not hurt. Kathy shook her head.

"We're your... mares indefinitely?"

"Bitches, actually. The group is called a stable, and I'll hire you out to 'studs,' but you're not a mare. You're a bitch. Sorry." He smiled. This was always enjoyable, when his girls got past the fear and anger of what he was saying and began to bargain. And the brunette here was moving through the stages more quickly than was usually the case. The blonde still looked shell shocked, which was more the norm. "What did you have in mind?" he rubbed his chin, "I have... almost three hours of footage here you wouldn't want anyone to see... plus the Polaroids, plus the charges for your room and meal here. Even the trip back can't put a dent in that level of debt."

"Then what?" Kathy challenged, "How long?"

"You want a duration? I mean, I could keep you for just a week, but if I turned you out for a gang bang video you'd have more cock in one day than you'd take working for me routinely for a year. So I don't think you want us to base your service on time. I prefer to work on a quota system. You do everything—everyone—I tell you without complaint, and after ten tricks, a picture goes away. Or six minutes of film. I figure that's about forty items to balance. You do four hundred tricks for me, and then you'll be in the black," he smiled at the pun, "Any work you choose to do then earns you real money. And it's good money. I have girls who left their husbands and work for me full time, living better than they did before." That was true, although invariably such women's husbands had been total losers.

"You do what I ask, and I take care of you," he continued, "No one finds out about you and this..."

"Unless we're arrested; or meet someone who knows our husbands," Kathy interjected bitterly.

"Oh, no, we screen for that, and since you won't be standing on street corners, the police issue isn't a concern." Yet another lie, but plausible to women unused to life outside of the suburbs. The women looked at one another, and he let them think about it before dropping the last bomb.

"It's up to you two. But if you refuse, I guarantee your husbands will find out before you can arrange airfare back, and you'll have to settle this," he looked around the room, "$1200," he paused, examining the serving cart, "Maybe $1400 bill, as well."

"But these count toward the four hundred?" Kathy seemed to be getting in line with the program. He shook his head.

"Not my friends, of course—you've already had them. But those you'll see here in the room? Tell you what. I'll even count myself as a John today."

"And it's 400 between us?" Melissa tried to sound confident, but the desperation in her eyes was revealing as she looked at him hopefully. He smiled, sure that she was used to getting whatever she wanted with those eyes and pouting expression.

"Oh no, honey," he shook his head, "That's four hundred each."

"What happens when we get back?" Kathy asked. He shrugged.

"Nothing. I just call you periodically, when I have some work for you to do. I understand sometimes you can't do a job because of scheduling, but if you refuse more than twice in a row, I add 5 to your balance of cock. I think that's fair. The women looked at one another. Clearly they disagreed.

"Besides, you two already have it worked out so that at least one evening a week you can turn a trick or two without your husbands suspecting a thing. Just doing that, you could be done working in a couple years." Melissa was shaking visibly as Kathy hung her head.

"I guess we don't have any choice." The brunette wiped surreptitiously at her face.

"Oh, you have other choices, but they're bad ones. Say you stay here on your own... you'll be stripping and tricking within a week, and not with clean Johns. Not with someone as nice as me watching out for you. Try to go home and you'll find your friends consider you wanton sluts. They wouldn't trust you with the family dog. And your husbands?" He opened his hands in mock welcome, "You're mine, girls. But at least I want you to enjoy yourselves, and I do look out for you." He stood, "I guess that's about it. I'd better go so you two can get ready."

"Wait!" Melissa choked and he stopped, looking at her intently. She was crying openly, tears staining her pretty face. "W-what if I can't... do this?" He reached into his pocket, and withdrew 2 bottles taped together.

"I have these if you think you'll need them," he began, taking 1 of each tablets, "This is valium; it'll help you relax and go with the flow," he held up the other, "Take this just before you start to fuck, and you'll find you enjoy it more." Kathy refused to take the offered tablets, but after a moment, Melissa held out her hand. He poured three more of each onto the counter.

"There's enough for both jobs, including for you, Kat, if you change your mind." Kathy's head snapped up at his name for her. He smiled, "I have to have pet names for all my girls. Which reminds me, if you get a call from Tom at the office," he looked at Kathy, "Or from Thomas at school, Missy... I expect you to take the call." The women nodded at his unblinking stare toward each in turn. "Saying you're not home in hopes of avoiding me will bring penalties." He eyed each one more time, then left, whistling as he closed the door behind him.