Hollywood After Dark Ch. 08

"I need you to do this Nat. For me," I said, brushing her hand with my fingertips. Natalie glanced down at my hand and then back at my eyes. For a long moment, we just stared at each other. Then a slow smile began to form on her lips, breaking into a wide grin.

"Ok Kiki. I said I would do anything for you, and now it's time for me to prove it,"

I sighed inwardly at the passing of the storm as I returned Natalie's rainbow like smile with one of my own. I leaned in towards her and kissed her forehead in gratitude.

"Thank you Natalie,"

Lifting up the armrest between us, Natalie leaned her head against my shoulder as we snuggled close together in the seat. Reaching her hand out to take the cocktail napkin from the tray, she picked it up and examined the name and address. Again her brow furrowed a bit.

"Hmmm, never heard of him. Who is Alex Hilt?"

PETTY'S STORY:

"MOVE BITCH!" the man holding onto my arm spat at me, shoving my back roughly as I stumbled a step or so ahead of him. I was being led out of the black car that had picked me up, some beat up old Lincoln or something, and into the door of a room at one of the sleaziest motels I'd ever seen.

Pressing me against the door frame, the man guiding me - one of Gordon Hapsboro's personal bodyguards, and a rough one at that - turned the door knob and half kicked the door open.

The smell of the room was dizzying. Reeking of stale sex, pot and spilled beer, I couldn't even count the number of stains on the floor, nor tell exactly how the cracked and crumbling walls were still holding together. Where the normal chest of drawers would have been, a small three legged table (which was once a four legged one, I noticed) rested, an old rotary phone and an ashtray wobbling on top of it. A cracked mirror hung over the solitary, sheetless bed in the room, the matress frame and box springs long gone, leaving a yellowing matress that was surrounded by spent condoms and what looked like old needles.

My head was spinning, the high from that wonderful coke that Hapsboro had given me had worn off, replaced by the more natural element of fear. I stumbled on wobbly legs towards the bed, repulsed by the overpowering scent of urine as I fell on top of it, catching myself with my wrists just in time before my face fell flat into it. Regaining my balance, I spun around on the bed, trying not to touch it as much as possible as I looked at the man who put me here.

But it was too late. In the split second I had fallen and been able to spin back around, he had already reached the door. Sprinting with all my strength to try and catch him before he made it out, it was too late. Just as my hand reached the heavy wood (probably the most expensive thing in the room) of the door, he slammed it shut, locking it from the outside.

Banging uselessly on it, I screamed and cried to be let out. The sun was going down and through the lone window in the bathroom, I was already starting to lose what little light I had in the room, making it harder to tell what to touch and what not to touch. After about five minutes of banging, I leaned against the door and began sobbing - what had I become? What was going to happen to me?

Closing my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks, I heard laughter outside the room. Lifting my head with a start, I heard a set of keys in the lock and what sounded like the bolts falling into place as the door was about to be opened. Now was my chance!

Stepping back from the door, I crouched halfway down and prepared to pounce on whoever walked through the door, doing whatever I had to in order to get out. Whatever Hapsboro had said about "earning my keep" before was now scaring the living hell out of me and I didn't want to be around to see what he had really meant.

As the door opened, my heart thudding in my chest, I leaped towards the door and managed to make it towards the small crevice that had started to open before coming to a screaching halt. Wedged against the door as he pushed it open, was another man of monsterous proportions. Luckily, small as I was, I caught him off guard a bit and he looked like he was about to lose his footing, had it not been for the giant meatfist of a hand he had, which held an even larger gun.

We collided in the doorway, me pushing against him with all my might, he caught off guard but able to only stagger back a step or two. For one fleeting moment, I felt that I had made it out of the room, as I could see the freeway off in the hazy distance behind where we were. But as soon as I pushed, he pushed back, this time with his hand and his gun. Using the brunt of his fist, he shoved me back savagely by the shoulder, throwing ME off balance as I comically bounced off him like a cartoon character, stumbling back into the room.

His footing now regained, the man held his gun out at arm's length, its dark and cavernous barrel pointing directly at my head. I stopped in my tracks as he advanced into the room, followed by two other men - one near his height and one much shorter. The two big men wore navy blue slacks and muscle shirts and looked to be of Hispanic origin, while the other man - shorter and dressed more in a Miami Vice style, was definetely Hispanic and definetely pissed by my attempt at escape.

"What the fuck do you think your doing?" the short one said to me with a snarl. I fell backwards and my ass hit the ground as I scrambled backwards, my back hitting the dirty bed as the three of them advanced on me, the door (and my last chance at freedom) closing with a slam behind them.

"I...I was..."

The one with the gun reared his hand back and slapped me - hard - across the face. The blow caught me off guard and I crumpled onto the floor, tears falling almost instantly from the futility and exhaustion of the whole ordeal. I certainly wasn't high on anything right then, but I would have given almost anything to have been.

They stood over me for a few moments as I managed to stop my tears and sit up hesitantly, positioning myself in a sort of fetal position against the wall and the bed. I stared at them with fear in my eyes, my mind and body reeling as I lost complete control of the situation.

"You were trying to escape eh? Well no one leaves Rocco's till they have paid their debt, si?"

Functioning on autopilot now, I nodded quickly in response.

"Good. Now Petty, we don't want to hurt you. Believe me of that - you are worth much more to us looking good than looking bad, at least for the time being. But we aren't your mommy or your daddy either. Our clients might want to be your daddy, but we are not,"

The two big men chuckled at this and Rocco smiled. In the dim light of the room, I could tell he was ugly. Puberty had not been kind to him, and he had deep pock marks all in his cheeks. Across the right side of his face, a long scar extended from his hair line (his hair oily and sweaty, pulled back tightly against his head) all the way down below his chin. His eyes were set inside of his face high above his nose, giving him the appearance of a flattened bird as he glared at you. His teeth were yellow and one was completely brown - a canine, I remember - and his smile was just as disturbing as the rest of him appeared to be. The suit that he wore (if you could even call it that) was a lavendar color, the pants striped with a series of thick blue lines that ran vertically down his short legs. The sports coat was the same pattern, but beneath it all he wore was a very dingy wifebeater t-shirt, the curly hair of his chest sticking out over the collar.

"What do you want from me," I said meekly, averting my eyes from their lecherous gaze.

"You are here to prove yourself to our esteemed client, Mr. Hapsboro. He believes that you do not have the talent that it takes to succeed in his line of work, so he wants you to prove him wrong, if you can. Think of it as being sent down to the minors, only here we don't treat you like anything than what you are - a cunt," Rocco said, lowering himself onto his haunches, his rancid breath seeming to ooze out of his mouth like a wafting sewer grate.

"See Petty, we are what you fancy Hollwood types might call an 'escort service' - we escort the men in, you escort them out," he said, getting another snicker from the other men. "And when they are here, you are theirs to do whatever they want to you. And you will do it, won't you Petty?"

I couldn't even believe what I was hearing. This couldn't be real, this couldn't be real, this couldn't be real...

"Hey! Bitch! I'm talking to you!" Rocco said, lifting his hand back as if to slap me again.

I cringed again in fear, my body already starting to respond to what he wanted me to do.

"I said, you will do what we want, won't you Petty?"

"I...I don't..."

"You don't what? Don't want to die? Good, because I don't want you to die either. But that's what will happen if you don't treat your pal Rocco and his business friends with every bit of respect you can find in that sweet ass of yours. It would be a terrible shame to see an up and coming singer like you, albeit one with a bit of a drug problem, found dead in a dumpster with a needle in her arm. But that can happen Petty, it happens every day,"

I nodded dumbly, my body in a state of shock over what was going on.

"Excellent. Then here's the house rules. You do whatever the client asks, for as long as he asks. You don't say no and you don't try to resist him, unless that's the sort of thing he is in to. You'll get four hours during the day to sleep and eat some food that the boys will bring you. Oh, and every other day is your turn on the street. If you need a pick me up, there's a fresh set of needles and some H in the drawer. Use it wisely though cuz until you really start earning, that's gotta last you,"

I glanced over at the drawer where he had indicated. This was a whole new level of depravity, I could already tell. Blow and some pot were one thing, but heroin freaked me out. I hoped I wouldn't have to use it. Unfortunately, it turned out that I didn't have much of a choice.

"Now Petty, be a good girl. Stand up and take off your clothes. You won't be needing them for much longer,"

On trembling legs, I stood up. My hands shook as I reached down and lifted my t-shirt off my head, my bare breasts (in my haste to meet Hapsboro, I had neglected a bra) and nipples growing hard in the slight cool of the room. I covered my chest with one hand as I hooked my thumb on my sweatpants. For a moment, I hesitated, not wanting to pull them down and fully expose myself to these wicked men. I looked up at Rocco with that same hesitation. But rather than sympathy, he took it as an act of defiance.

"Don't want to do it eh? Fellas, help Petty out of her clothes please," he said, his voice flat and dark in tone.

They moved towards me and I turned to run, trying to get past them if only I could. Catching my shaking arms, they held me still. One of them, I still don't know which, yanked at the waist of my pants and pulled them down, the stretchy material sliding down over my thighs slowly as I kicked and tried to fight them. It was no use though, for the pants came off and I was naked and exposed totally now before the three of them.

Still struggling, they held my body tightly as Rocco moved towards me. I tried to kick at him but was restrained immediately by the two other men.

Reaching his hand out, Rocco savagely grabbed my breast. I cried out more in pain than surprise - it hurt, but not as bad as I would have expected.

"Listen Petty, don't try any of this shit with my customers. The boys will be waiting outside and if they hear a man scream in anything other than pleasure, they will be in here so fast it will make your head spin," he said, his stale breath and oily face just inches away as he whispered at me.

In my distraction at looking at him, I didn't notice that one of the men had removed a needle from his coat and was holding my arm still. It wasn't until I felt the prick of the point against my inner arm - he was shooting me up with something! - that I realized how truly screwed I was. For as soon as the needle was in and the plunger pushed, the grip on my arms relaxed and Rocco stepped back, smiling.

"There, now you should be in a more receptive mood to my customers. The first one is already waiting to break you in outside, I'll go get him,"

Giving one last push, I tried to get away but the contents of the needle, which clearly was some form of heroin or something of that strength were already taking an effect on me. My vision blurred slightly as the drug coursed through my veins and I had the sensation of falling - falling slowly at first, then much more rapidly as I landed on my back atop the disgusting bed.

Laying on the bed, my mind began to twirl and swirl in ways I can't even begin to describe. The room spun, but in a pleasant way as I seemed to feel every blood cell in my body responding to the euphoria that was rushing through me like a tidal wave of bliss. I was high, and WHAT a high it was. In the back of my mind I knew that they had probably given me heroin or something to that effect, as whatever it was made every other drug I had tried or encountered pale in comparison. Rational thought faded away and I began to lose myself in my minds own amusements, a pleasing calm coming over me.

I heard voices around me, and I knew they were Rocco and his men, but I didn't care. The whirlwind I was experiencing made me forget about any danger or hang ups I had before, as I ran my hands over my nude body and caressed and played with my own skin, my mind creating all sorts of games and tricks to amuse itself with.

Sometime later, for I really don't know when, I sensed other people in the room. I had been fascinated with the light blonde hair on my arm, staring at it intently as I lifted it up strand by strand, letting it fall back in place in a wild sense of amusement that made me happy on virtually every level, until I was interrupted by these people back in the room. Reluctantly I looked away from my arm and saw one of Rocco's guys standing by the door of the room, its distance from me appearing as if an ocean away. Near him was another man, a young looking college age guy, who seemed to be handing the larger bodyguard/thug money, only doing it very very slowly.

I couldn't help but laugh at the slow speed in which they were going and that caused them to look at me for a moment.

"Shit, that really IS her!" the younger man said. "I so can not believe I actually am going to fuck her!"

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and my brow furrowed as I grasped onto the thought. But again time was moving slowly and before I knew it, the young guy (who, I must say, was fairly muscular and attractive) was standing naked by me, pushing me down back onto the bed as he crawled up my body.

I moaned in pleasure as I felt his hands touch my skin, the wonderful human contact making me shudder and practically cum all over myself in enjoyment. He roughly groped my breasts, rubbing my nipples under his hands as they grew hard upon his minstrations. But just as soon as he started playing with them, he stopped, causing me to cry out in anguish at the missing feeling of his hands. However, the pleasure was quickly brought back on as I felt my pussy opening up around his seemingly huge cock.

Glancing down, the effects of the drug gave me a weird perspective. I could see him thrusting in and out of me, only it was somewhat like a hallucination, as his cock throbbed and seemed to grow and expand in size beneath me. My reaction time was also slowed, but I could feel waves of pleasure gently gliding over my body like a calm surf, the lazy strokes of water touching every fiber in my body. That was how I felt now, with this anonymous guy on top of me.

As I said before, time was slowed and I really lost complete track of it. I don't know when it all began and when it all stopped - the original guy was replaced by many more guys, each different enough for me to notice that they had moved atop me and were fucking me with gusto, but little more than that. Faces became a blur of colors and shapes as I drifted in and out of an aware state, small orgasms from my spasming, oversexed body breaking into the high like tiny firecrackers. Eventually however, as I started to come down many untold hours later, I passed out.

I was awakened sometime later by a bunch of voices in the room. My head throbbed and my pussy felt raw and sore. With a stiff neck, I lifted my head up and looked down at myself. My breasts and stomach were splattered with dried cum, and my pussy lips were red and slightly swollen from all the fucking I had had. Smacking my lips together, I tasted bitter semen in my mouth - apparently only my ass had been left unviolated. Struggling to sit up (I felt exhausted), I focused my bleary eyes towards the voices at the foot of the bed.

A mixture of men of all races, some totally naked and some fully clothed, were drinking beer and smoking pot as they stood around a small card table that had been setup in the room. They were laughing and joking with one another, and I noticed a small stereo on the floor off to the side. It seemed like they were waiting for something.

Opening my mouth to speak, I voice was scratchy and dry, words seeming to come from some aged version of myself, not the woman that I was.

"What is...what the hell is going on?" I croaked, my words causing a few of the men to glance over at me. They studied me for a moment, a few smiling slightly, before returning to the "party" they were engaging in. I lay my head back down on the nasty bed, frustrated at being ignored yet too worn out to even bother getting up and trying again.

I closed my eyes and laid there, listening to the music and voices as they moved in and out of my ears, none really registering or making much sense to me. About thirty minutes later, I heard the door to the room open and the voices suddenly became louder, more excited and certainly more carnal.

Lifting my head again, I saw two big men entering, followed by a very short girl, her blonde hair the most striking thing about her. She wore a corset of deep blue leather that pushed her ample breasts up towards her throat, and a pair of fuck me pumps as she walked into the room, the confidence with which she walked making everyone pay attention. I noticed too that she wore a barely there thong like piece of clothing between her legs, the narrow strip of fabric barely concealing her shaved mound.

"X-Tina!" one of the men yelled in an excited voice as he ran over to her. His massive arms embraced her and lifted her off the ground, their faces meshing into one another as they kissed. X-Tina? Surely it couldn't be...

"Hey baby, how are my walking fuck sticks doing today?" the girl said. I blinked my eyes a few times before realizing that indeed, it really was Christina Aguilera.

I knew that she had undergone an "image change" over the past few months, tarting herself up into a walking sex object. She had emerged into the public eye with piercings galore, a sultry manner in which she carried herself and of course, incredibly erotic videos and performances. But to think that she was here, right now, in this shithole that I was forcibly being held in, was almost unfathomable. She really couldn't be as spit out and used by Hollywood as I was, could she?

The man released her and the other members of the room still crowded around her, some lewdly groping and touching her as she giggled and laughed and shared a joint that was passed to her. I took all of this in, waiting to see where it would go, knowing that for whatever reason, she had walked into this room and that I would somehow be involved with whatever those Antamount fuckers had planned.

Pulling a breast out of her corset, one of the men - tall, with blonde hair and a chiseled, sexy jaw, put his mouth to her nipple, sucking voraciously on the ringed tip of it as he used his hands to caress and stroke her frame. The rest of the men backed off from her for the most part, but I did notice that one seemed to be fascinated with her ass, as he was stroking and rubbing it while standing behind her, Christina (or X-Tina)'s head resting on his shoulder.