Alex - 10 Days of Torment Ch. 23

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Transformation complete, Brandi takes Christina to Vegas.
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Part 23 of the 32 part series

Updated 06/10/2023
Created 05/16/2021
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mimaster
mimaster
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© 2022, All rights reserved -- mimaster

Transformation complete, Brandi takes Christina to Vegas

***** "Freewill", written by Neil Peart. Performed by Rush, 1979.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sunday Evening, May 19th -- DAY 3

Maggie was still sitting at the island, staring at the computer in despair. Well, not in despair as much as she was in deep thought. Kalinda was pacing around the living area, a glass of wine on her hand as she ran through her head all the details that she knew, trying to make sense of the dilemma they were in, and how to attack it.

They both saw Alex descending the white metal staircase from his bedroom to the kitchen, his erection fast rising. He'd just made sure the kids were sound asleep, anticipating the naughty fun that awaited the rest of his evening.

That is until he saw the look in Maggie's green eyes. They flashed anything but brilliant, instead showing a resignation to their current fate. Instantly his member started to deflate, knowing that his night wasn't going to turn out like he'd hoped.

"Sorry sweetie," she sighed.

"Yeah... me too babe," he responded, surprising her with the use of a pet name. She was also disappointed that he was now worried. About Christina.

Kalinda picked up on the change of vibe in the room. "Hey, I've got this. I just need some time to figure it out."

"Kal, he's canceled the Bellagio. He's changed the rental. He's booked a plane ticket to Vegas on Wednesday night. One way. And just one person... him. What the fuck does it all mean?"

"Truthfully, I don't know. Yet. We don't have enough information to make an informed conclusion on anything, so we're not going to. We go only with what we know. That's our baseline, and we build on it."

"Well what do we really know?" Alex asked.

"Besides that this prick is always five moves ahead of us? Not much," Maggie bitched.

Kalinda was calming. "That's not true, Mag. What do I always tell you about these things?"

"Take my emotion out of it," she sighed again, her head slowly nodding. Taking a swig of her Fosters, she acknowledged, "You're right. I'd just rather be fucking right now."

"And we still can. But first we need to work the problem."

Alex shook his head quickly, actually chuckling a little in spite of the mood on the huge room. "Wait. She got that from you?"

"Got what?" Kalinda wondered.

"That line... from Apollo 13."

Maggie sighed. "I'm sure I'm not the only one that's ever seen the movie, Alex."

"Yeah, but... "

"I got it from her, sweetie. She says it all the time. You have to admit, it's wise advice."

Kalinda offered a different perspective. "Whats wiser is Gene Kranz saying not to make things worse by guessing. That's what you end up doing if you get ahead of yourself."

"Agreed," Alex said. "So what do we really know."

Kalinda grinned at him. "Well, nothing we can act on. We know he's been tracking you and Maggie. And Christina when she was here. There are GPS devices on all three vehicles in the garage. That's how he was able to coordinate meeting up with Maggie and Sarah at the shoe store."

"What the fuck?" he said under his breath.

"We know that he just made three changes to the itinerary that we've been told for the trip to Vegas. I'm still confused as to what his plan is. It's not adding up in my head."

"Wh... what changes did he make?" he asked nervously.

Maggie spoke up and said, "The first was changing the rental car. My phone went off, and the card was used. He's getting a vehicle today. Upgraded to a higher-end SUV of some kind through Enterprise."

"That's a blow," Kalinda shared. "I actually have an in with Enterprise. I was going to call him tomorrow and get him to return the favor of what this Gerard character did to you. Put a tracker on whatever vehicle he got so we could track where he takes Christina. Now, we're back to square one."

"Well, nothing we can do about it," he said philosophically. "What else?"

Maggie answered, "He canceled the Bellagio. Well, maybe not. Definitely canceled Monday and Tuesday. Put a hold on the rest of the week. And then there's the airline ticket. First, it was bad enough him renting a car on the company card. The hotel is reserved in Christina's name, but the SUV and plane ticket? Thank God I got Candice at the bank to set up that alert so we can at least stay on top of this. For fucks sake, I have no idea how we'd explain a one-way airline ticket in his name to your partners. Hell I can't explain why he's doing that anyway. A Wednesday night flight? It doesn't make any sense."

"It does if we consider he's definitely not doing this alone," Kalinda said as a hypothesis. "Didn't you just say the ticket is in his name?"

"Yeah... but like I said, so is the SUV."

"But that can be worked around. Especially at Enterprise. They'll pick you up. If it's this Brandi that's helping him, then she could get that changed when she goes in to sign the paperwork. To be honest it's the only thing that makes sense. She'd have to show ID, but she could get then to change it."

"How?"

"Monetary payoff. Blowjob. Hell, Christina might be told by Gerard to fuck for it. That's negotiable if you get the right person to work with. But there's no way to get on a plane in this country without proving you are who you are. Not since 9/11. He's definitely the one flying. Which means why the SUV, if not for Christina and Brandi... or more, to head over either before or after he goes."

"Why would they go afterward?" Alex wondered. "Then again, he canceled the first two days at the Bellagio. Maybe the whole week. None of what we know adds up."

Kalinda agreed. "Yeah... that's why we need more intel. Right now, the only thing we really have is he doesn't know we know he put trackers on your vehicles. What we thought we knew about the Vegas trip is kinda out the window right now. It's almost like he's deliberately throwing us a misdirection to keep us in the dark."

Alex shook his head. "Thanks. I feel a whole lot better now," he whined sarcastically.

"Relax, stud. I'm going to figure this out. I know it's hard to be patient in something like this, but that's what we need to be. We have to be patient, keep our senses clear, and be ready to act."

"You... you act like Christina is in real danger."

"Until we prove differently, we have to assume she is. Do you trust the guy she's with? All you have to do is remind yourself what he's got her doing to you to keep you off balance. I get the idea of it being exciting to you for her to be fucking other men, but this feels different to me. There's no reason for him to track you, or Maggie, unless he's up to something."

"God... what have I done. I'm supposed to be her protector. I wasn't man enough to fuck her in the bedroom, and I'm not man enough to -"

Maggie had heard enough. "Stop it Alex. You're more than enough man for her. And for me. That's Gerard trying to emasculate you that's playing in your head. You can't let him win, no matter what we have to do the rest of the week. I need you to be strong, for me and the kids... and most important, your wife. Kalinda is the best. We need to trust what she says and listen to her."

"Thanks Mag. And she's right Alex... you're definitely man enough. I promise I'm gonna let you prove that to me this week. For now, we need to be looking for the break that's going to come our way. And one will... we just can't afford to miss it."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sunday Evening, May 19th -- DAY 3

Instead of flipping the rearview mirror so the headlights from the vehicles behind wouldn't blind her, Brandi readjusted it, tilting it lower so she could keep her eyes on her passenger in the back.

Christina was naked, and was tied into a spread eagle position in the back of the huge Chevy Suburban she'd rented. It was black, with tinted windows, and it was top of the line of the premium SUVs that were available.

A hunky black Enterprise employee named Quantrell showed up in a sporty new Porsche Cayenne. The slogan 'We'll pick you up' was being done in style, as a way to perhaps entice an upgrade. After all, the description on the rental ticket listed a high end SUV.

Brandi had changed the day, and the pick up point. She was leaving her BMW in the private gated lot behind Spike's tattoo parlor, knowing it would be safe there for the week. The original plan had been to be picked up at Gerard's house in Palos Verdes the next day.

She didn't tell Gerard about the change of plans right away. She wasn't going to debate it. She was making the moves necessary to succeed in her ultimate goal, which was to get Christina pregnant. It was really a long shot, but she liked her odds. Christina once let slip that she was very fertile, not having issues conceiving either time she and Alex actually tried to have children. That's the day she started tracking her friend's menstrual cycle.

Spike was still working on Christina's second tattoo when Quantrell showed up. It was much larger and more intricate than the first one, but for the most part, it was easier. That's because the vast majority of it was done with normal inks. He wouldn't use the special ultraviolet reactive ink until he'd completed the main design. Brandi loved the way it was turning out. After all, she was taking an incredible risk by basically branding her friend, who just happened to be drugged and unable to offer her own opinion. Or protest.

With much of the work still to be done, but knowing Christina was in great hands, Brandi had called to change rental. She needed the vehicle she'd be using to go to Vegas right away, because she'd told Christina when she started to come to after Spike fucked her that they were already on their way to Nevada, and that the shot she was giving her was B12 to keep her energy up. But in doing so, she realized after the fact that she might have created a problem for herself. While unlikely, it was possible that Christina might recall the conversation and wonder why they weren't in Las Vegas when she finally came to.

That kind of slip up was rare for Brandi, but it had to be dealt with. Instead of panicking, she calmly adjusted her gameplan. It was part of her sociopathic nature, not letting emotion interfere with attaining her goals. She called Enterprise first, arranging for the change in the rental. Then she called a travel agency she used for her excursions, setting up a flight for Gerard for Wednesday evening from LA to Las Vegas. In doing so, it would shut out the possibility of Sasha tagging along on the trip; something Brandi did not want to happen. She knew why the ebony beauty was trying to go with them. She also knew she would ruin her plans. In truth, she wasn't so sure her slip up with Christina wasn't a subliminal answer to that dilemma.

With only one plane ticket purchased, and her leaving unannounced with Christina a full day and a half earlier, Sasha would be on her own if she were going to make it to Vegas to join the debauchery. As much as she might want to, Brandi doubted that would be a decision she'd make. Plus, it would allow her to push the buttons with Alex. Her plan to have his asshole and pubic area waxed was still on the table, and having Sasha do it was ideal. Wednesday was set, but she was thinking of having it changed to Thursday.

Quantrell pulled up at the tattoo studio in the chic Porsche, texting the number that he was there. Brandi texted back to let him know to come inside. She greeted him at the front door him, craning her neck to see past him, wanting to know what she'd be riding in. Flashing a wicked grin, she asked him to give her a minute to get herself ready. His mouth nearly hit the dark hardwood floor as she motioned for him to follow her, yet he did, almost in a trance. Why wouldn't he, as she was naked at the time. There, he got an eyeful of Christina, also nasked, her body laying prone on the table. Spike was between her spread thighs, working diligently on the tramp stamp he was creating.

It wasn't difficult for Quantrell to notice that the newly minted blonde was unconscious. It was also impossible for him not to see the huge glob of cum slowly seeping out of her used pussy. Brandi slid on her tight jeans, bobbing up and down to get them over her hips; her heavy breasts bouncing up and down in the process. She winked at him as she picked up her pink t-shirt.

"Ready to take me away, lover?"

"Wh... what?"

"Isn't the slogan of your company 'We'll pick you up... and fuck the shit out of you'?"

"Uh, not exactly," he grinned, staring at her chest.

"You see my friend there, getting inked like a slut?"

"Hard not to," he confessed, shooting her another glance before returning his gaze to Brandi and her impressive chest; nipples ripening in front of his very eyes.

"Doesn't she have a pretty pussy?"

Letting his professional guard down, he growled, "Fuck yeah."

"Did you get a good at mine before I put my jeans on?"

His brilliant, toothy smile came easy. "No... not really."

"Well, it doesn't look as pretty as hers. You know why?"

"Can't imagine that to be true, to be honest," he replied, his impressive cock beginning to harden in his black slacks as they exchanged X-rated flirtatious banter.

"Well, it is, 'cause mines not full of cum like hers. Think you might want to help me rectify that? Or does the word 'rectify' make you want to plow my ass instead? I know how black guys are, always wanting to stick their big cock in a pretty white girl's ass."

"You are damn pretty," he replied with a leering grin. One that made her weak in the knees.

Still, she tried to remain the one in control. "Well, to be honest, I'm up for either, as long as we do it in back of that sweet ride you used to come get me."

"Come get you? Or... get you to cum?" he quipped.

Grabbing him by the belt, she led him toward the entrance, not bothering to put on the shirt resting on her left shoulder. "Let's go, Quantrell. I hope you're as good with your tongue eating pussy as you are sweet-talking."

Brandi was smiling at the counter of the Enterprise desk at LAX a couple of hours later. She was signing for the stylish black Suburban in Christina's name, not having to give her own. She was brandishing her friends driver's license, and Quantrell made a copy of it, adding on the insurance liability coverage to protect it. He was surprised she didn't want the Cayenne. She countered with the fact that it had stains all over the back seat. So did her jeans at that point. He'd left huge deposits of cum in both her pussy and her ass.

She made a vague comment about hooking up again when she returned the rental, but it was a lie. He was a great time, and fantastic fuck. He was also a one and done. He'd have to be happy with the memory. She'd already let it go by the time she was on the freeway heading back to Venice Beach to pick up Christina.

Spike had just put the finishing touches on the ornate lunar butterfly that now adorned her lower back. Yes, it was actually based on a Luna moth, but he'd modeled it after the image carefully sculpted in her hair by Sasha; inspired by Brandi calling it a Venus Butterfly after a fictional sexual maneuver.

It had more characteristics of a butterfly than a moth, but the wings were green, with yellow and lavender accents, and had the long, graceful extensions on the hind wings like the moth had, flowing down to the top of her shapely ass. Instead of the small circles on the hind wings that were designed to look like eyes to hinder predators, Spike replaced them with human eyes. Specifically, they were shapely female eyes. They looked sultry. They looked smokey. They were mesmerizing. They were almost a perfect match to Christina's, with green irises that looked alive. It was really brilliant artistry on Spike's part.

The circles on the fore wings appeared to be more normal, so as not to distract from the stare of the set just below them. However, they were the centerpiece of the hidden design within the overall tattoo.

Flipping off the light again, he turned on the blacklight. The focus of the art switched from the sexy eyes within the lower wings to the Queen of Spades symbols that showed up in the upper ones.

"Oh my God, Spike! It's perfect!" Brandi squealed.

"As long as she doesn't stop fucking black cock, yeah."

"Why would you say that? She loves getting railed by BBC."

"That's now. How's she gonna feel once you hook her in heroin, even a little, which is frankly impossible... but whatever. How's she gonna react to being knocked up because of it. Then the rehab. Fuck, B, she's probably gonna freak the fuck out from being tattooed without her real permission. And that's a fucking shame, because that right there is one of the best tats I have ever done."

"Well I definitely agree about the ink. Damn, that's Michaelangelo and Rembrandt worthy. But what makes you think I didn't have permission?"

"C'mon, B. You can threaten my nuts again if you want, but your mentor argument is bullshit. Whatever implied agreement you think you had with her just because she's some kind of submissive to you are the moment is just that; implied. What you did, was violate her personal rights."

"That's your interpretation. You're allowed to have it."

"Mine!? That would be the opinion of anyone that's not batshit crazy. You're psycho. You know that, right?"

"The clinical term is sociopathic. Well, I'm technically I'm borderline, but it's probably a lot worse now because I'm not bothering to treat it. That's because I was also diagnosed as being bipolar and narcissistic. There were a lot more, but personally I like to hang my hat on the one being labeled as having an unhealthy sex obsession," she giggled.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I was hospitalized when I was a junior in High School. That's when they diagnosed me."

"Hospitalized? Why?"

"Might have been because I tried to kill myself. Hard to say," she replied glibly.

"Are you being serious right now?"

"I'm rarely not. Why?"

"How? I mean... why?"

"Pills. Tried to OD. Stupid me, I didn't want to do it with heroin, because like I said, I'm not an addict. That would have been easier though. Just shoot up and die while I'm being fucked by the basketball team. They could have said I was fucked to death. That would've been a cool epitaph."

"Brandi, be serious."

"Totally am. I fucked the team after practice one day and I was high on H at the time. Just walked into their locker room after my cheerleading practice and let 'em take turns with me in the showers. Also serious about the suicide attempt. I took a bunch of my mom's valium."

"Huh?"

"She was an alcoholic, mainly because my old man is a racist, sexually abusive predator. He used to beat the shit out of her when he'd basically rape her, so she drowned herself in the bottle, and if that didn't work, she'd take a valium to knock herself out. He didn't like raping her if she couldn't fight back... so, he started doing it to me."

"In high school!?"

"Like it would have been okay if I had already graduated? Yes, I was in junior high when that started. My eighteenth birthday was the first time he raped me. It was a helluva present. It was forced blowjobs and more rape pretty much after that night until I did graduate and get the hell out of there."

"I can't believe you're admitting your dad molested you."

"If only. He raped me. Repeatedly. There's a reason I hope he's dead. He took my last two years of high school and turned them into a nightmare. L Although to be fair, I looked like I was in senior in college probably as a early as my freshman year. But turning eighteen made me fair game. That's how he justified it, never mind that I was his daughter. I was a just another woman in the house with an available pussy. Anyway, I'd had enough one night and took a bunch of her pills. Drove to the high school and drank them with a bottle whiskey. They found me before school the next morning and pumped my stomach. Then they put me on the psych floor for observation for a couple of weeks. Had a bunch of shrinks watching me. Talking to me. I didn't tell them about my father. Seemed pointless because they didn't listen to my mom when she got put in for a month. The only thing that came out of it was being diagnosed with a bunch of disorders. Like I said, my favorite is my unhealthy obsession with sex. I've kind of latched on to that one and made it my personal mantra."

mimaster
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