Alex - 10 Days of Torment Ch. 25

© 2022, All rights reserved -- mimaster

Christina sticks her nose where it never belonged.

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Early Tuesday Afternoon, May 20th -- DAY 5

Christina snapped awake, gasping; her body chilled from the flash sweat she'd just experienced. She'd been having a nightmare, and it took her a few minutes to adjust her eyes to the dark, unfamiliar surroundings. It was then that she realized that she was actually living that nightmare.

Her head was pounding, and she reached for the nightstand next to her, only then recalling that she didn't have her purse, which had the aspirin she desperately needed inside it. Lying back down, she rolled over to find a dry place on the sheets covering the musty mattress in the dank motel room.

At least the place they were staying was a step up from the previous lodging establishment. That is if you could call it that. She and Brandi had made enough money on the street, prostituting themselves, that they were able to avoid a second date with the humongous twins that ran the first place they stayed. Which meant there was no repeat of being forced to have nasty, yet oddly satisfying sex with them. The orgasms were incredible. Eating skanky pussy and nauseating ass, not so much. The way she was smothered by their massive bodies was a bizarre trade off for the way she was fucked by the brother and lesbian sister tandem, but it wasn't worth going through a second time. At least, she didn't think so. She'd be lying to herself if she didn't admit that a part of her loved being degraded in such a way. It just would have been better if Gerard was there, making her do it in person instead of from afar.

The motel they switched to was part of a chain. At least it used to be. It had been dropped by the franchise for not meeting clientele requirements, and for the rundown condition it was in. Once a place like that loses it's ability to make reservations on line, cut off from that function by losing the franchise designation, it's like a death sentence. Forced to find a source of income elsewhere to stay afloat, it had become a known haven for drug addicts and hookers, as well as week to week living for down and out locals that found a way to scrape together just enough money to not be homeless.

In this case, it was being used as a safe respite for two California babes that were on the run, as it were. They were clawing their way up to what they hoped would be a better life. Having put the hooking on the street behind them, they looked to improve their income by using what they had. Their brains, and their bodies. It still involved selling themselves for sex, but they were at least able to be more selective with who they sucked and/or fucked. Plus, they were making money in addition to that.

It took some doing. And by 'doing', it meant paying off two owners and agreeing to do the same with the DJ/Emcee at the stripclub they were about to start dancing in later that night. With the room paid for in advance for a two-night stay, they could sleep and get ready for their first official night on the pole. And the VIP rooms. And... the inevitable fucking that would occur that very night once they invited several men to join them back at 'their place', as it were. Brandi had told Christina that Gerard had specific orders for how they were to move up the sexual ladder they were climbing. There would be no shortcuts, and there would be trials and tests every rung of the way. Christina would never know that the challenges she was having to complete were actually devised by Brandi. It was all part of her devious plan.

The initial payoff came as soon as they knew they'd achieved their first goal and were on their way to the next step. They'd made enough money between them to pay for the motel upgrade, if you could call it that. At least the floors didn't leave their feet black from walking on the carpet without shoes. They also had a couple hundred dollars saved up. But that was still all they had to their name. In order to be allowed to strip at the club they were informed to apply to, it meant they'd have to audition.

They went there at five in the morning, having had no sleep. After all, it was Vegas, and it was a twenty-four hour world they were living in. Nothing seemed to close. Up to that point, that included their legs. And Brandi warned Christina that wasn't about to stop. They drove to another section of town, both of them a bit stunned that the rental vehicle had made it through unscathed during the time they'd left it abandoned. Walking into the club directly from having both been fucked one last time in their all too familiar alley, they reeked of sex when they entered, literally dripping cum from their worn-out cunts as they tried to make a positive first impression. That's why they made a quick stop to the restroom before looking for the right person to talk to about employment.

They needn't have worried. They were by far the hottest two women in the establishment at that hour, and it wasn't even close. And as for their scent, they fit right in. The place had an odor that could only be described as the intoxicating stench of ammonia and semen. Piss and cum. It was like a horrid cocktail permeating their nasal cavities. It made Christina blanch. Brandi felt right at home.

The particular club that Gerard allegedly selected was distinct. It catered to the locals of that particular neighborhood, and that meant the men inside were almost exclusively all black. It was exactly what Brandi had hoped when she'd stumbled upon the place a few years before. She'd made an impression, and had an automatic in with the proprietors of the Gentleman's Establishment, as it was being marketed on the neon marquee out front. In reality, it was a front for drugs and prostitution, and it fit the narrative she was looking for in her twisted mind perfectly. That she'd danced there before was irrelevant. She'd called ahead the previous Friday, talking to Vinnie and Frank, the owners... who may or may not have been tied to the mob. It seemed very likely to her that it was true, but she had a tendency to romanticize about such things. Goodfellas and The Sopranos coming to her mind.

Regardless, the two big, muscular Italian-Americans agreed to play dumb, knowing it would be worth their while. When Brandi came in with Christina, they pretended not to know her, just like the previous two times she'd brought in a confused hotwife. And that meant whatever good will she'd built up before would be ignored. They were starting from scratch, and would have to earn their way onto the stage.

The club had a special VIP room that actually had a stripper pole in it. It was used for auditions, so Vinnie and Frank could determine if the girls applying for a job were worthy of their establishment. With there being a few comfy couches in there as well, it provided opportunity for the complete review of what they had to offer.

Brandi went first, hoping to lead the way by example of where she wanted to take Christina. It was a calculated risk, but she'd felt she'd set the stage perfectly. Vinnie was directing the show, so to speak. He wasn't the least bit interested in watching them do some kind of exotic striptease. It was all about the way they'd interact with the patrons that frequented the place.

"Take your fucking clothes off. Both of ya," he practically growled.

Playing along, Brandi pretended to be confused. "Don't you want to see us, you know... strip?"

"The men here are only interested in your pussy. Get undressed, or get the fuck out!"

They did, quickly disrobing, standing before the two men completely naked save for the platform stripper heels they'd put on for effect. Thankfully Christina had had the good sense to practice strutting around in them a few times to get used to what she might be asked to do. What she wasn't prepared for was to be groped. And fingered. That's what happened though. The two men took liberties with them, checking them out like they were federal agents doing a cavity search.

"Thank God we cleaned up in the bathroom," Brandi whispered as they were bent over being inspected.

"I'm sure there's still cum coming out of me B," she replied.

There was. Frank said as much. "So, you're both working girls, I take it."

"We were. We're hoping to be strippers soon."

"Sorry to disappoint you, bitch, but part of your job description here would involve doing the same thing."

"And I suppose you get a cut," she sighed.

"Of anyone you fuck here? Yes. If you can convince a couple of guys to party with you after work, you can keep that. Or, you can just fuck them. We don't really give a shit. Right Vinnie?"

"Right. Show us what you can do on the pole, Brandi." She started to make her way to the small stage, and he laughed, pulling out his cock. "Not that one, you cunt. Get on this!"

"You too... Venus, or whatever you're calling yourself," Frank said as he removed his thick shaft. "Time to see if you're a good enough piece of ass to work here. A lot of girls look the part, but they can't really handle it."

The men sat down on different couches across from each other. Brandi was just about to lift her leg over Vinnie's torso when he stopped her. "What?" she asked. "I thought you wanted pussy."

"You gotta be high here too. Another part of the rules."

"Why the fuck would we need to do that?" Christina asked.

"Because we sell four things here. It's what drives business."

"And that would be?" Brandi asked, like it was rehearsed. It very nearly was. She was only replaying the other conversations she'd in that room with the brothers. It was pretty much scripted at that point.

"Alcohol and naked women," he said, listing the first two.

"Because that's legal here," Frank added.

"So, the others would naturally be sex and drugs?" Brandi griped.

"More like fresh pussy, and premium cocaine."

"You're kidding," Christina gasped.

Brandi tried to appear like she was appealing to reason. "Look, we're already high, Vinnie. We smoke wax all the time. We're never not high."

"Yeah, that don't matter. If you're not going to follow the club rules, you can get the fuck out."

"Fine," Christina said as she started to walk away from Frank. Brandi raced over to her, grabbing her by the hair, "OUCH! What the fuck, B!"

She leaned in close, growling quietly into her ear. "Are you really going to fuck up now. Really!"

"I'm not doing cocaine. You're crazy if you think --"

Brandi reached back and punched her in the gut, making her double over. Then she grabbed her by the hair again, making sure they made eye contact. "If you think I'm going to do this without you, you're the one that's fucking crazy. I'm not going to take the heat for you again, Chris. Get your head in the game."

Recovering from the blows, she groaned, "Brandi, you can't be serious!"

"These guys... they're mobbed up. This is Vegas we're talking about. Do you really want to cross them? They're going to make whatever Gerard does to us seem like child's play. They'll either cut our tits off to make an example for us, or we're going to end up in a shallow grave somewhere in the desert!"

"What!?"

Vinnie interrupted. "Ladies... we don't have all day. Bottom line is this; we have to move product. The best way to do that is if the girls working here understand that it's part of their job. You don't have to sell it. You don't even have to buy it. Think of it as one of the tools of the trade we provide. But, you do have to use, and the guys you're with in the VIP room have to see you use. Then... you need to entice them to do the same."

"And just how the fuck do we do that?" Christina snapped.

"Venus, no man in his right mind that thinks they're going to party with the likes of you is going to turn down some premium blow if they know you're going to let them snort it off of your body. And if you do the same... say, off each other. Or better yet, off the guy's cock... instant success. Once he uses, it goes on his tab, for the both of you."

"What if he won't pay for it?" Brandi asked. "They would've already snorted it by then."

"They'll be warned when they come in by the bouncer that services provided must be settled before they leave. They won't be paying you to fuck. Only for you to dance for them. But, if they fuck you, they pay on the way out. And yes, you'll get your cut of it, even if they don't pay money."

"What does that mean?" Christina wondered.

Frank chimed in, saying, "This is Vegas. If they have a marker, they're covered, which means we'll cover what you do. If not, it's no different that if they're gambling over their head. They bill comes due. If they don't... well, trust me, they will. It's been a looooong time since we've had to resort to something physical."

"I miss those days," Vinnie chuckled.

"So, you break a leg," Christina surmised.

"We're not going to confirm or deny. However, you need to understand the rules. You dance. You entice. You fuck. You get paid. I don't care if you never get dressed. You can walk out on the stage like you are now, never bother using the pole, and head straight to the first guy that catches your eye. But we expect results."

Christina moved closer to have a private conversation. "Brandi, I can't do this. This is insane."

"The alternative is insane. Stop telling me what you can't do. I'm done with that. Gerard sent us here. This is a test. I have no intention of failing it."

"You're serious right now."

"Oh yeah. All you had to do was listen to me a couple months ago and walk away from him when he challenged you that last time. I warned you not to stay involved with him. You didn't listen. And now, I'm looking like the one that failed him. That's not happening. So, you better shut up and do what you're told. These guys mean business, and I have to prove to Gerard we're here and doing this. He probably already knows we're here. I'm betting Vinnie or Frank already called him. We back out now, and there's nowhere for us to go. Do you understand me?"

Less than five minutes later Brandi was snorting a line of coke off Vinnie's throbbing erection. From there, she waltzed over to the stage and did a quick routine, proving she was no novice to working that kind of pole either. Once she finished, she made her way back to him and snorted a second line up her other nostril. Once that was done, she turned around and straddled his cock in a reverse cowgirl. Not because she didn't want to look Vinnie in the eye. She would have preferred that. But she needed to keep a wary one on Christina to make sure she followed her lead.

Christina was at a crossroads. On her knees in front of Frank, she'd been slowly stroking his enraged erection as they watched Brandi work the pole. She was mortified that her friend had not only snorted the cocaine, she'd done two lines, setting the standard she was supposed to live up to. That she'd been told to video it with Brandi's phone was also a shock, because it meant the same thing would be done with her phone when it was her turn. And that was upon her.

The fat cock in her hand was eerily similar to her husband's. It was just as long, and almost the same thickness. It was even the same shade of purple when it became really excited. The way it pulsed in her hand was another stark reminder, and it made her imagine him somewhere in California. Her fears resurfaced; the notion that she was suddenly in the dark world she was existing in so deep she might never find her way out. But worse, the idea that it could somehow land on her doorstep at home in Laguna Beach was all too real. She needed to keep that from happening. She needed to find a way to survive the week. Or, perhaps escape, although that was becoming less likely by the second. She had to make a decision, and she had mere seconds to do it. Her mentor; her alleged friend, was already riding Vinnie to her first orgasm. Frank wasn't going to wait forever.

Reaching for the vial, her hand was shaking. It was already cut, waiting to be spread somewhere. She wouldn't have known what to do if she hadn't watched Brandi do it first, and that was only after Vinnie did it for her the first time. Frank made it clear she needed to do it herself from the start, and he did it with just a stern glare. She was trembling from the inside out as she made a thick, long line along the urethra of his impressive shaft. She knew better than to try to skimp, or make it thinner than what Vinnie and Brandi had done. After all, she knew she was being recorded on her phone. Gerard was going to see her do it.

Leaning forward, she tried to recall what she'd seen in movies. It was hard for her to really see how Brandi had done it with the way she was positioned on her knees, even though she'd caught it on camera. In truth she hadn't paid close enough attention, horrified that her friend was going to take that leap.

A huge part of her didn't believe Brandi. Her intuition was telling her she wasn't really who she said she was. Or more accurately, that there was more to her than she was letting on. A big part of that was what she did to her husband without much thought of the consequences, and how she was encouraging her to do the same with Alex. It was all a heady experience at first, being the one calling the shots in her marriage. Being the one that was leading them into a hotwife/cuckold relationship. She loved that power. The raw, electric charge she got from pushing his buttons and driving up his angst.

That is until she saw that image on her phone; Alex's despondent stare when Maggie fucked his ass with a modest strap-on. It was nothing like the huge bad dragon style she herself had used on Brandi's husband Scott; with Brandi's encouragement. Hell, it was almost insistence, and she fed off the dominant emotions it stirred inside her. She was too close to it. She couldn't see it brought out the bitch in her, and in turn, she felt the need to give that experience to Alex like Brandi was suggesting. Her friend made it seem like it was the next natural progression in her role as a hotwife and his as a cuckold. And that she would be fulfilling her destiny in doing so.

Yes, she'd become drawn into that world by accident, discovering his dirty porn habit. It almost felt like she'd fallen into a trap, but the more she let herself accept his desires and embrace them herself, the more she discovered she wanted the same lifestyle he craved. She wanted to become his hotwife. She wanted to give him thrills and turn him on with her behavior. And she thought she was, until that moment she saw his eyes in in video, proving to her that she had read him and what he wanted all wrong.

There was another part of her that still loved Brandi. That believed she was in a relationship with Scott that worked for them. One that was grounded, established, and he truly loved his wife. He lived for her attention, and got off on being controlled and humiliated by the sexy Miss B. The fact that she was able to control him from hundreds of miles away, and he willingly did as she requested spoke to that. She'd seen it first hand. She even participated, like what she'd done just the day before, telling him to put a suction cupped remote dildo on his office window and fuck it. That instinct came to her naturally, and it scared her. She was nervous she'd succumb to that extreme view of what was possible in the bounds of her new title as Queen.

Still, in her mind, she knew that Scott wanted what Brandi was doing to him. He loved the uncertainty, and the feeling of belonging. He lived for the discipline she provided, as well as the degradation. And Christina knew it. She felt it firsthand the day they shared him. The man could eat pussy like it was his only purpose in life. And since life had dealt him a much smaller than normal penis, he was compensating in order to please the woman he loved with all his heart.