A Dish Best Served Cold

Doctor Martin Angelo was sitting at his desk in his St. Louis office fuming. He was holding an itemized bill in his hand. It was for the professional services of a local law firm he hired to represent him in a lawsuit. He lost twice. First, his lawsuit failed. Then the bill his attorney sent him was more than outrageous. Plus when he told them he wouldn't pay it, the law firm put a lien against his company and froze his corporate assets at his bank. He found another attorney that told him after examining everything that what they did was all legal and proper and he was stuck.

He was an owner of a very small pharmaceutical company. After years of hard work he had discovered a new drug that when marketed should reap him millions of dollars. Before he could submit his drug for FDA testing, one of the big pharmaceutical companies applied for a patent on his formula. This is not uncommon. Doctor Angelo was a tyrant to work for and did not instill loyalty in anyone that worked for him. One of his employees quit and sold the formula and samples to the larger company. Since the former employee did it in Japan, Doctor Angelo found he had no legal leg to stand on.

Doctor Angelo was going to have to file for bankruptcy and dissolve his company to escape this. It was his only option left. But he fully planned to make that bitch of an attorney pay for his ruination. In spades. She was going to pay him back with her very ass.

Two years later, Cynthia Anne Hollingsworth was running on a treadmill in the Golden Rod Gym, which was located on a lower floor in her downtown Chicago loop office building. The law firm she was an associate in had a corporate membership to the club. Cindy used it about three times a week, when she could make the time that is. Since this was important to her she seldom missed her appointments with her personal trainer. Only if she was in court or an important meeting she could not avoid. She loved to joke around with his other clients about what a tyrant he was.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch. Dat's all you girls do is bitch at me! If you spent half as much a your time working out as ya did bitching, you would all look the way you want too!" Manfred Stein said to them all the time.

Manfred had a poster on the wall he pointed to constantly. It had before and after pictures of a naked woman who had to weigh in at over four hundred pounds next to a naked woman that could not even weigh one hundred pounds. Manfred always looked at them and pointed at the fat lady in the picture. It was easy to tell the two women in the pictures were not the same person. They were not even related to each other.

"Diss is you! Ich ben going to make you look like her if it kill you!" He would say pointing to the skinny one. He was a Teutonic Adonis. Manfred was hot. Most of the girls dreamed of him taking them. Cindy was part of this group, and she enjoyed it when he touched her. That was why she stayed in this group. Manfred had no problems with touching his girls. And they all loved it! Several of the girls openly tried to get in his pants. None could. One of them was a girl Cindy really liked. Her name was Georgia.

Cindy had become friends with many of the other patrons of the gym, but especially Georgia. Cindy was twenty-eight years old, about five feet eight inches tall, medium build with a thirty-six inch bust line, twenty-six inch waist, and thirty-seven inch hips. She wore a size 36C bra, but was almost into a D cup. She wanted to work on her bust to make sure she didn't sag into a D cup. She was athletic and in good health. Her hair was cut to a short sassy style that looked both appealing and sexy on her. She had real blonde hair with some hint of red highlights added and liked to attribute any mistakes she made to the fact that she was a blonde airhead. Her hair had been cut like that since high school. She had been active in the gym and found short hair stayed out of her way.

Cindy was anything but an airhead. She had top grades in all her academic classes and was at the top of her classes in high school, college and law school. She was extremely gifted as a public speaker and came across very well to juries. The fact that she had been a model for several Chicago area merchandise stores while she was in college helped this fact. She was used to being on camera and not at all shy around them. She learned to critique herself each time she could and got to where her performances were first rate. This not only earned her the money to pay for her own schooling, but to pay for all the "toys" she wanted to buy.

The toys she bought on her own without any help from daddy was a new Lexus every year, a townhouse in a nice suburban neighborhood, and a very large expensive wardrobe. Her father was not shy to tell her he approved of her paying her own way like this. He had done the same thing when he returned home to Chicago from Vietnam a disabled veteran. He worked hard to put himself through law school in a wheelchair then partnered up with two others to form a new law firm with offices in the loop. That law firm now employed over three hundred people, and had a world wide reputation. It had offices in twelve cities across the country. St. Louis and Kansas City were two of them.

It was the firm his daughter was an associate working her way up the corporate ladder in. Once again, she did it all on her own. She applied to the firm in St. Louis while her father was out of the county on vacation. The woman in the St. Louis personnel office had no clue that she was one of the partner's daughters when she was hired. It was almost nine months before her father found out where she was working. She kept telling him it was a small firm in St. Louis. By then she had her own reputation as a competent lawyer on firm grounds. She had done very well on her own with out his help. This was a source of pride for both of them.

Her move back to Chicago came when the senior associate she was working with told her he was moving to the main office in Chicago to become a junior partner in the firm, and he asked her to make the move with him. He was married and wanted her as a work partner, not a bed one. That was when she told him who her father was. That came as a large shock to him. He had already faxed her file into the board of director's office with a request for her transfer. And a sizable raise to senior associate status.

In the end she made the move. She liked working with him and thought it was time to come back home. He had confided in her he wanted to open his own agency when he got the experience, and wanted her to be a partner with him in it. This was just what her dad had done, and the way almost every new law firm began.

Once again, her father was very proud of how she handled this. There were only a few people at her new office that knew who she really was. One was her father's original administrative assistant, Joyce Sinclar. Joyce was now the Administrator for the Board of Directors. She had held baby Cindy on her knee right after she was born, and kept track of her for her father after she left home for school. Cindy really missed Joyce. On her first day back, when she and her boss came up to the main office for the ritual meeting with the big bosses, she walked in and came around the desk and gave Joyce a big hug.

Joyce looked at her and just said, "Welcome home, girl," with tears in her eyes. Joyce had known all along where Cindy was. She never told her father. He was not surprised when he found it out. It was not the first secret Joyce and his daughter had shared together over the years. He never pressed her on them. Cindy grew up with Joyce as her mother figure when her mother died while she was in high school. Her father had never recovered from that. She knew he never would.

When Cindy arrived her father told her he was about to retire. It was getting too hard for him to get around downtown Chicago now. He was moving down to the Branson, Missouri area. He bought into a luxury housing development years before and was going to end out his years fishing on Table Rock Lake.

After a hard workout where Manfred pushed them all really hard, Cindy and Georgia were showering in the privacy stalls next to each other. It's said that opposites attract. These two women could hardly be confused with each other. They were as dissimilar as could be. Everywhere Cindy was fair, Georgia was dark. Cindy had an English girl's peaches and cream complexion; Georgia's skin was black as midnight. They were not even close to the same build. While Cindy was medium in size, Georgia was big.

Georgia Lane was over six feet tall, her bust line was 44DD. Her waist was 36 inches while her hips were 40 inches wide. She was not fat. She was very well muscled. Georgia was a professional dancer. An erotic dancer. Georgia told Cindy once when they were both chatting over coffee from the coffee shop that while Cindy made her money with her brain; she made her money with her body. She made no bones about the fact that she took guys to an apartment next to the club she worked in for a good time. Georgia told Cindy it was almost obscene the way white men would lay down their money at her feet to lick her pussy. Or her toes. One of her favorite tricks was to pick the smaller men up, bring their cock up to her lips and suck it dry while she held them up helpless above her head.

At first, Cindy didn't know how to take Georgia. She told her that while she was not a virgin, she had not had a boyfriend in over two years. Her last one had been very disappointing to her. It was part of the reason she left St. Louis to come back home.

"Honey, you bring that cute white ass of yours over to the club and I will find you a real stud that will make your head swim. And he will pay handsomely for the privilege of doing it!" Georgia said with a laugh.

Cindy was always very modest and shy about her naked body. Georgia thought it was cute the way she dried herself off in the shower stall and came out with a towel wrapped around her naked body. She tried to get her bra and panties on very quickly when no one was watching her. Georgia came out fully naked and walked around that way. She loved to show off her body and her many tattoos. Georgia had her naval pierced, but no where else.

Despite their differences, they became fast friends. In actuality, Georgia would not really let her come to the club. Georgia knew she would be embarrassed and end up getting raped if she did so. Georgia knew Cindy was really a nice girl. She didn't begrudge her the advantages she had growing up white with rich parents. Georgia would not trade her own parents for anyone else's. They had provided her with love and a safe childhood. Her occupation was one of her own choosing. She had dropped out of high school two days after she turned sixteen. Two years before that, her boyfriend tricked her out of her panties.

Three months after that, a street gang caught them making out in an old car. Fifteen guys took her that night, after her boyfriend. She found out how to give blowjobs, hand jobs, and take it up her pussy, up her ass and what it is like to be pissed on. She learned to do it all that night. Because she did what they told her to do, the gang bangers didn't hurt her. The strange thing about it was she was not at all bothered by it. She had really gotten turned on by turning them off. Even when it was with a cock in her mouth, her pussy, her ass and both hands all at the same time. She really got turned on by it.

Her boyfriend couldn't deal with the raping he took. He ran away from home the next day and she never saw him again. Two weeks later she went into the free clinic and was treated for VD. She made up her mind then that she was never going to make out again for free. If a man wanted her, he was going to pay for it.

When she turned eighteen, she walked into one of the clubs near her home and asked the owner to teach her how to dance. He told her what it would cost her. She was willing to pay the price. She had been a regular at the Rush Street Kit Kat Club ever since.

The owner taught her well. He told her he would teach her the ropes and told her what it would cost her in return, both in money (nothing) and in free sex (a lot.) He got free ass until she started earning money. Then she paid the same as the rest of the girls. The free ass stopped then. Except for when she took her place in the regular rotation that kept him happy. He was honest with her and with his dealings with the others. One of the other girls told her she was welcome here unless she got caught cheating them. If she ever did, she would be out on her ass. She saw that happen with a few of the other new girls. This was the way she wanted to live her life.

She learned how the whole system worked and how the drop box money collection system they used protected them all. She would pick up a date in the club and have them meet her at her room in the apartment complex next to the club. The date would ring the bell and give his name and she would buzz him in the door and meet him in the hallway. Before they went in her room, he would make a deposit in the envelope she provided with her name on it. He put in the cash, he sealed the envelope and he dropped it in the wall mounted bank style night deposit drop box slot. It was important that he dropped it, not her. The girls never touched the money. That was a key point in the operation.

At the end of the night, all the envelopes were opened and the money was counted. The house took a cut, and deposited the girl's money in a bank account. The girl's could watch the count any time they wished. But they knew what they made each night. The trust level was there and they knew they didn't have to watch it.

Every other Friday was payday. They got a regular pay check from the club with their earnings, minus the taxes. At the end of the year, they got W-2 tax forms from the club for their wages as professional dancers. It was all tight and legal and the Chicago Police left them alone. So did the feds. The bouncer, Henry, an ex-prize fighter, took care of anyone that did not play nice with the girls. The girls took care of his needs as well.

In a word, it was a professional operation. The club even paid for health insurance and a corporate membership to the Golden Rod athletic club for the girls, which was only a block away from the club. Georgia was not the only regular girl that went there. Most of the girls did. The ones that were not strung out on drugs, that is. Those girls never lasted long at the club. The girls called them the "temporary help." What was most surprising to Cindy; there were twenty-seven girls that worked full time as performers at the club. Of these, only four were real girls. Georgia was one of the four. The way they handled things, most of her customers never knew she was the real thing. It was for the others that most of the men frequented the club. With her size, few questioned her real sex. The other three real girls were just as big as she was. The other three were lesbians, too. All of them went both ways, but liked girls better. Georgia wanted to keep Cindy as a friend, not a lover.

Cindy was shocked when they talked about all this over coffee one afternoon. The week before Georgia turned her ankle working out and Cindy gave her a ride home. Georgia wanted to thank her for that. She would never tell Cindy that in her world, when someone was nice to you, you had to repay them. It was an unwritten cardinal rule. Georgia thought that Cindy was the only really normal person she knew. Everyone else was some kind of a nut, freak or sociopath.

All day long Cindy had been waiting for the day to end. She was just fed up to her limit with things this Friday afternoon. Her day started off wrong and stayed that way. First, she slept in. She hurriedly dressed in a bright red suit she liked, with matching purse and shoes. She would have to do her makeup as she drove the car. She hated that. Everyone just knew she was an airhead blonde bimbo when they saw her doing that.

Just after she finished putting on her face, she got caught by a long freight train. Then she was delayed by a traffic tie up due to an overturned truck. While waiting for the State Police to get traffic moving again on the Kennedy, she saw she had a run in her pantyhose. And to top it off; she forgot to plug in her cell phone the night before and it was dead. Not that it mattered. Chicago had just passed a new law about using cell phones in a car and Cindy left her ear plug at home. The last thing she wanted was some Chicago cop coming up to her and writing her a ticket for being a dumb blonde on a phone, with a huge run on the inside of her pantyhose she knew there was no way to conceal from him.

Then her luncheon appointment didn't show. A judge didn't like her argument on one of her cases and made her prove her claim of a prior judicial ruling in a similar case that she knew was weak to begin with. The gym was closed for remodeling and her hair appointment was cancelled due to the illness of the girl she liked that did her hair. In short, she should have rolled over and stayed in bed.

The only bright spot in her day was when she was on her way home she took the elevator down to the main floor where the coffee shop was, Jimmy, the new attendant, had her latte waiting and ready for her. He took the five she gave him and told her to have a nice weekend with a smile. Cindy had been stopping off for a latte every day since before this new attendant started working there a couple of weeks before this. She enjoyed it on her drive home.

While she knew the new attendant was a college age boy, he was always nice to her and remembered what she wanted without being asked. He normally had it cooled down just the way she liked it when she stepped off the elevator. She would walk up to the stand and he would hand her the cup with a smile. She sipped her latte on the way to the parking garage and sat down in her Lexus.

That was the last thing she remembered doing until she woke up in her bed to her alarm on the following Monday morning. The red dress, her slip and bra were on the bed next to her. The panty hose with the run in them were in the trash can near her bed. It was like she came home late, threw her clothes down and went to bed and slept the weekend away.

Her whole weekend was gone. She had no clue what she did over the weekend or anything. Her bedroom looked exactly the way it did when she left here Friday morning in a rush. She was wearing the same nightgown she had worn on Thursday night, but different panties. These did not look like hers. She had no idea where they had come from. They were bikini style. She wore briefs. All she knew was that she was stiff and sore all over and felt some minor pain around her waist and genitals. She shook her head and went into her bathroom and took a shower.

That whole Monday seemed to go by in a daze to her. She finally snapped out of it when she was working out in the gym. She told Manfred she was sore. He saw she was very tight and set up a massage for her with the therapist after her warm up aerobics. That helped. By the time she went home, she was feeling normal again. She wondered about what she missed over the weekend, but by Wednesday, let it go.

What Cindy missed was the opening steps of Doctor Martin Angelo's revenge on her. Doctor Angelo was a very gifted chemist. If he was not such an arrogant ass to work for, he would have made millions of dollars by now. Since he was such an ass, anything any of his employees could do to screw him, they did. A chemical compound Doctor Angelo had discovered almost five years before this played a key role in his revenge.

Doctor Angelo found that by combining several different compounds together under higher than normal pressure (five times the normal pressure) he had a clear odorless liquefied substance. One drop on a sugar cube caused a person to totally blank out for a forty-eight hour period. But that's not all it did. While the person's mind was totally blank, they did what ever they were told without question. This was the key to Doctor Angelo's plan for revenge. His victim would pay for her crime against him and not even know about it. Until he was ready for her to know.