Under New Management Ch. 05

"Yeah, guess so. Alia had a fair amount of shifts that'll need covering. And with Bubbles still out of commission... I'll spread the word," Tina said.

"Should be... interesting. Hiring a new one, I mean," Bret said with a grin.

"I take it you wanna participate in the... auditions?" Tina said, raising an eyebrow and answering Bret's grin with her own.

"It's like you read my mind..." he laughed and walked out the door. He felt good, relaxed, invincible. He had a sexy woman at home who was hellbent on servicing his every desire, including helping him seduce her friends and colleagues, he was fairly certain he'd gained Tina's respect and he was sure he'd solved the little crisis like Uncle Tom would have wanted him to. Now he just had to have a look at the finances and then perhaps have a look at some of the... talents, his club boasted.

Cheers, Uncle Tom, he thought once again, sending a fond thought to his deceased uncle.

---

"Oppan Gangnam-style!" the speakers shouted as Bret opened the door and stepped into the main-area of his club (his club!), and despite hardly being a fan, he found himself nodding in time to the fast, Korean beat. Up on the stage, an Asian girl was jumping around in her insanely high heels, hands crossed at the wrists, doing that inane dance that Psy had made so popular these days, her tits bouncing wildly in time with the beat. She was clearly nearing the end of her routine, as she was only wearing a thong and stockings. The rest of her clothes were littering the stage where she'd thrown it during the dance.

Around the stage, men were eagerly holding up bills, very keen on paying the Asian beauty for the privilege of a quick feel of her lithe body.

As was becoming his habit, he stood a bit by the door and looked at his club, feeling a surge of pride. It was Sunday, hardly the busiest day at any club and the Lucky Gent was no exception, but still there were quite a few patrons, and the girls working had little troubles finding customers.

He saw the cute little Red dancing for a group of well-dressed, young men that he guessed was a bachelor-party -- or possibly it was a birthday-boy, enjoying her charms. His hand was around her thigh as she was dancing on her knees facing towards him, her legs on each side of his. Her firm, smallish breasts rubbed against his face every now and then, and he shuddered in excitement whenever that happened.

Studying the sexy redhead and her graceful dance, a sexy blonde suddenly entered his view. Lia, looking hotter than ever in a flimsy, pink top and a ridiculous short shirt that didn't even hide her well-formed thighs or pink panties, led a fat, unattractive, balding man by his hand towards one of the rooms marked PRIVATE. He said something that Bret couldn't hear -- he was simply too far away -- and she giggled flatteringly at him, touching her well-formed ass. Clearly, the disgusting man had complimented her on her wonderfully rounded behind, and like a little slut she'd enjoyed it.

Suddenly filled with an impotent rage, Bret turned away from the loving couple and walked to the bar, where CJ quickly gave him a sweet, hard-hitting drink to drown his anger. He had no idea why the sight of her infuriated him so. After all, he had Bubbles and an entire club full of beauties to hit on, but she still made his blood boil. The betrayal of seeing her drag yet another man in for a good time, combined with flashes of her smug face when she'd 'confessed' to it in his office days ago made him drain the drink way too quickly, and he was on his second when Lil' Stacey saw fit to stop by.

"Heya Bossman!" the blonde greeted him and sat down next to him, "how's it going?"

"Hey Stacey," he said, casting a quick glance at her impressive tits. She was wearing a low-cut top that gave her a noticeable cleavage, and not even Bubbles or Lia's sluttiness could drain Bret enough to make him not look at the mysterious depths. He didn't really know what else to say. The blonde was extremely hot, at least as attractive as Bubbles, and she didn't have that submissive, puppy-dog personality that made Bubbles easy to talk to. Stacey was hot and self-confident -- the kind of woman that had been his bane all his life.

"I was just wondering..." she said, easily noticing where Bret's eyes were focused and leaned in a little further to give him a better view, "Bubbles... how's she doing?"

"Oh. Oh!" Bret's eyes flew up to Stacey's face, feeling bad about staring at her lush tits when she was thinking about his hurt... well, girlfriend or whatever she was, "well, she's... she's better."

"That's so good!" Stacey said, and, despite her limited acting-talents, Bret ate up her phony relief, "so are you two..." the big-titted blonde leaned further and added conspiratorially, "you know...?"

"Ehm..." why was she asking that!? What was the right answer!? "yes... yeah, we are." In the end, he went for prideful truth. Maybe she was up for another threesome? The thought of Bubbles and Stacey in the same bed, gave him an almost instant hardon... well, okay, it had been growing since he sat down, but that thought certainly lit a fire in it!

"Oh, good. That's good. You're just what she needs, the poor thing," Stacey voice was dripping with fake concern, "as long as you've got enough condoms, am I right?" she winked, "and the penicillin should make her good as new soon enough, anyway. As long as she didn't pick up something new from that freak of an ex..."

"What?"

Stacey blinked twice, looking at Bret as if she didn't understand. Then suddenly, realization dawned on her.

"Oh God, she didn't tell you? The clap! She didn't tell you about that?!"

"What!?!"

"Oh no! Tell me you used protection! You didn't bed a slut like her without covering up, did you?" Stacey had to fight the smile that threatened to ruin her entire performance.

"She has... has gonorrhoea?" Bret asked, fear and anger clearly shown in his eyes.

"Everyone says so. I guess we figured she'd tell you..." Stacey shrugged, stretching the truth quite a bit. Sure, everyone had heard the rumour of Bubbles' STDs but then again, most girls at the club had had that mark of shame branded on them at one point or the other. So many women working together in a competitive, image-based industry was simply bound to spread rumours. Then again, the rumours about Bubbles' health were quite recent, and Stacey had spent the last hours reviving it. It was better if she wasn't the only one who had heard it. After all, she didn't want Bret's wrath coming down on her.

"Yeah, I guess so," Bret said, downing his drink. It hit him harder than he expected, but he didn't care. Everything was just wrong! Why didn't Bubbles tell him? Why had she let him fuck her without a rubber? Instantly, he knew why. Because he wanted to, and Bubbles would never tell him no. Fuck!

"Fuck this, I'm going home," he said, staggering out of the club, with Stacey's dark eyes and evil smile following him. A drunk, angry and hurt man was a power to be reckoned with, and Bubbles would be hard pressed to convince him of the truth. Especially if she did as Stacey knew she always did: rolling over and taking her punishment with no questions asked...

Fun as it had been, though, this was only a short-term plan. They'd probably work it out in the end, but it would give Stacey some time... and until then, Bubbles could have a taste of pain!

She deserved it, the man-stealing harlot.

---

Bret drove home, way too drunk to drive and way too drunk to care. What he didn't know -- and had no way of knowing, really -- was that he drove by a very nervous Deborah Meyer who was on her third nightly driveby. Telling herself, she needed to 'get some air', she was really gathering the courage needed to enter the den of lust that had become the focal point of all her fantasies since the day she met Bret and Bubbles at the mall.

Reaching his home, he staggered up the stairs to his apartment and tore the door open. The alcohol fuelled his anger and fear, making the usually calm and quiet Bret unrecognizable.

"Bubbles!" he shouted as he shut the door behind him, "Bubbles!"

"Yes! Boss, I'm here, I'm coming!" she shouted from the living-room and came running into the hallway. She was wearing a tight, pink shirt, short white skirt and nothing else, but for once Bret wasn't interested in her body at all. In fact, she seemed repulsive, as if crawling with diseases.

"Why didn't you tell me?!" he accused, "God, you're... you're just...! Argh!"

"I'm sorry, Boss, I'm SO sorry!" she gasped, seemingly shrinking in size before him, becoming a scared, little girl, "Please, don't hurt me! Please!" Instinctively, she held her arms up in front of her face to protect herself.

"No, really. It's sickening! What were you thinking? That I wouldn't find out? That you could 'explain' when it starts burning when I take a fucking piss?!" Bret shouted and took a step forwards, his hands balled into fists. Not that he intended violence, he was just furious, and his body language expressed that. Bubbles, her vast experience taken into consideration, read it differently, though. She wasn't even paying attention to his words anymore -- all she knew what that she'd done wrong and a beating was imminent. Now she could only hope to minimize the damages by trying to calm him down and protect her face.

"Please, don't hurt me, please, don't hurt me, please, don't hurt me," she begged, sliding down on her knees, trying to appear small and non-threatening. She hid her face in her hands -- one black eye was enough -- and hoped and prayed it would be over soon. Since she hadn't seen Bret angry yet, she had no idea what to expect; hopefully, he'd be like Kurt and just smack her around before fucking her, often quite violently. But afterwards, when he'd cum and she'd shown him how little and powerless she was compared to him, he always calmed down and everything was forgotten. Well, except for the bruises and scars.

Johnny, though, a guy she'd been with a couple of years ago had had an excessively painful system of reminding her of not pissing him off -- usually tying her down and beating her over the course of days.

Not even an alcohol-induced haze could withstand a beautiful woman kneeling, sobbing and begging not to be hurt, and that she thought he would was like a bucket of cold water to Bret's face.

"I won't hurt you," he said in a calmer voice and knelt down next to her, but making sure not to touch her, "but tomorrow we're both going to the clinic to get tested." Standing up again, he staggered to the linen-closet, leaving a crying and confused Bubbles behind and found a blanket for himself, "and I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight. I know they say it doesn't spread like that but I'm not taking any risks, even if you don't care!" The last was said with an uncharacteristically sneer.

"I don't... I don't..." Bubbles tried to object but her words went unheard. In the end, she gathered herself up and went to watch Bret make his bed on the couch. She was reminded of the first night she was here, but the disgusted way Bret had acted, she really didn't think a blowjob would solve this crisis. Fighting a rising sense of panic, she withdrew to the bedroom, defeated and confused. If she at least knew what she'd done wrong... Everything had been so great during the day, and she'd been waiting for Bret to come home to more romantic fun. She'd even considered cooking but in the end had decided against it -- she'd been pretty sure her complete lack of skills in the kitchen would have killed the mood fairly quickly. Not that it was distressing for her to go to bed hungry -- she'd been eating far too well since she went home with Bret.

In the livingroom, Bret's righteous fury was giving way for bad conscience and a dump pain in his stomach. He'd made Bubbles cry -- in her eyes, he probably wasn't any better than Kurt. But she'd been hiding a serious disease from him! It was just sickening! Sickening!

If Stacey could have seen the result of her plot, she'd have smiled, as she shook her well-shaped ass invitingly and accepted the groping hands of strangers as they put dollar-bills down her stockings at the stage of the Lucky Gent.

END PART V

Again, my apologies for the delayed updates. In addition to the birth of my son, I've also started a new and taxing job. Unfortunately, this means that writing has taken a back-seat in my life.

As always, please let me know what you think. If I'm way off base and about to ruin the series for you, let me know what's wrong. If you like where it's heading, please tell me that as well. It's really only your feedback that pulls me back to the site again and again, so keep it coming.