Alex - 10 Days of Torment Ch. 25

That is until he heard his phone, the texts coming in every minute or so.

"It's Christina."

"Ignore them," Maggie ordered.

"What... what if she needs something? What if it's her saying she needs help?"

"It's not. What time is it?"

"Almost two."

"Which is the time she's been sending you videos while she's been in Vegas. She probably just got up. She's sending you what she did yesterday, just like she did the day before."

"You seem sure."

"I am," she said as she finished sending off another email. Standing, she took off the garter. "Two to go, sweetie. I'll do the last case file myself while naked, and I'll let you fuck me from behind while I do, but only if we have enough time."

It was an added benefit. One of the extra ones she was offering as his Executive secretary. One he didn't see coming. "You're sure it's just videos."

"We didn't watch the ones from yesterday until a little bit ago. Are you sure you want to ruin what we're doing right now to look at whatever she did yesterday to debase herself, or would you rather finish our game."

"Finish," he nodded.

She flashed a wicked grin. "Good boy. We can watch them tonight."

Less than thirty minutes later, Maggie was peeling down her panties, bending at the waist in front of his face. It was strategic on her part. She'd stacked the file folders at her desk in order, going from the most complex to the most basic, leaving that simple one for last. Grabbing her laptop along with the file, she walked to the center of his office in just those sexy black heels. Getting on all fours, she put the laptop in place so her forearms would be able to brace her. Opening the file folder, she looked over her shoulder to Alex, who was literally sniffing the panties she'd handed him.

"You can keep doing that, or you can come over her and fuck the source of that scent you're becoming drunk on."

He was behind her in seconds, but took his time extracting his shaft. He stroked it a couple times, eyeing the red-haired beauty offering herself; wiggling her ass seductively as if he needed more enticement.

He'd envisioned her in much the same way hundreds of times. Obviously without the laptop, but somehow that made her sexier. So did her glasses, as she'd decided against her contacts that morning for just such a purpose. She knew her wearing them with her hair up like she had would drive him wild.

He slapped his cock up against her pussy, the force of it making her squeal. The wetness from her cunt splattered against her inner thighs, and his slacks. Not that he cared. He was lost in the moment. Maggie wasn't, a wary eye on the clock in the bottom right corner of her screen.

"Hard and angry, sweetie. You have twenty-four minutes before you have to leave."

Slapping the shaft against her a couple more times, he ran the length through her splayed labia before ramming himself home. Grabbing her hips, he began pounding her relentlessly. She was able to focus at the start, typing away on the keyboard. It was the ultimate in multitasking.

"God damn fucking slut!" he mumbled.

"Your slut. All yours. Fuck your slut, baby. Show me what you've always wanted to do to you secretary!"

"Executive secretary!" he corrected, like she usually did.

"Don't forget extra special. You're reaping those benefits right now."

"I love you," he said again.

"I love you too. Twenty-two minutes. Hammer me Alex. Hammer your pussy!"

He did. He knew they were under a time constraint, but he wasn't about to shortchange the experience. He'd dreamed of fucking her. And even though he already had, several times, this was this first time while she was in in the official capacity of his secretary to his being her boss. It was odd, because she was the one calling the shots, and he wouldn't have it any other way. But for the moment he was in control.

She finished her email, hitting send. That freed her to fully enjoy what he was doing to her. Pushing the laptop to the side, she pushed herself up on her hands and started backing into him. She'd played her hand perfectly, him being dressed, her naked, the two of them being able to slam together without the telltale sound of bodies colliding during rough sex echoing about the office.

There was grunting. And growling. But that was the extent of it other than Maggie counting down the minutes. It was a challenge. One that Alex was up for. He'd watched Billy do that very thing, telling Kalinda to count the strokes until he came. This was a bit different, but it appealed to him. He knew if he couldn't pull it off he'd be pulling out and leaving without an orgasm. He was okay with that because they'd gotten the work done. He knew Maggie was a woman of her word, and he'd be cumming several times that night as a reward. His focus at the moment was to make sure she came before he left. Preferably more than once.

He needn't have worried. Once she was able to cut loose, the orgasms began to flow. They were so compatible sexually it was scary. He reached up and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her into him, and she exploded. It was powerful, due in large part to having to control her outbursts. She was quiet, but the climax wasn't.

"Ooohhhhh fuuuuuuuck!" she hissed, and then she shook as the second crashed into the first. "Ooooohhhh Aleeeeeeexxxx!"

"Cum for me Maggie! Again!" he ordered.

"Ooh Yeeeeeeeessssssssss!"

Being multi-orgasmic was a gift. It could also be a curse. She was no longer able to tell him how much time they had left, because she was a greedy slut that didn't want her pleasure to end. But he knew. He saw the clock on the far wall, keeping track.

As the minute hand moved perilously close, he grabbed her hair, yanking her head back and plowing deeper. Harder. Faster. Lurching forward, he released his seed, filling her spastic cunt.

"Unnnnnnnaaaaggggghhhh!"

One minute later he was standing and zipping up. She was slumped forward, her chest against the carpet, her ass still high in the air; her lungs desperate to catch her breath. Adjusting his tie, he grabbed his suit jacket and slipped it on to hide the sweat stains under his arms. Briefcase and laptop in hand, he smacked her ass just once on the way out, leaving a sting and a handprint.

"See you at home, beautiful."

"Mmmm," was all she could whimper.

He carefully opened the door, locking it behind him. She lay there for a good five minutes, until she felt his huge load start to seep out of her pussy. Rising, she picked up the panties he'd left by her side, wanting to feel the mess he'd made between her legs for a while. Quietly getting dressed, she went into the bathroom in his office to get herself together. She was happy, but it was tempered. She'd just lived out a dream. The worry was the nightmare that might lie ahead.

"Tomorrow is going to suck," she sighed.

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

Tuesday Evening, May 20th -- DAY 5

Christina was working the stage, the place thick with the type clientele she'd been promised by Brandi. Wall to wall black men, most of them looking rather dangerous. Brandi had warned her to focus on their eyes. It didn't matter how hung they were. They were paying to look at pussy. In some cases they might pay for more. What she actually did with them could be decided once she was able to separate a guy from the herd and get him to accompany her into a VIP room. And that was step one. Once there, it was about finding a way to get him to take cocaine with her. Once that was done, the hook was set. Fucking would only come once that happened. No coke, no pussy. Not even a blowjob.

She could give blowjobs to guys that just wanted a lap dance in one of the semiprivate cubicles. But only if they'd gone with a dancer into a VIP beforehand and done a line or two. Those men were given a marker for a local casino that was roughly affiliated with the club. They simply had to show it for her to blow it. That marker also clued the bouncers to who'd partaken in drugs so they could be charged at the door on the way out. The dancers were in charge of giving out the markers, which were embedded with a tracking chip, a lot like a vibrating light up coaster chain restaurants hand out to those waiting for a table.

Most of the men there knew the drill, so it came as no surprise. But there was always the occasional newbie that would stroll in for a good time only to discover their night was going to end much differently than expected. It was no excuse. The girls always told the guys they were doing drugs with that it wasn't free, and neither was the pussy. Sometimes the thought of the pussy was so enticing they didn't hear that detail.

That was deliberate. First, the only place the drugs were available was in the VIP areas. The girls had access, and they were trying to involve the men by going first. The sex would happen second. The money for the sex was paid to the bouncer on the way out of the room. With them handing their club issued clutch to the bouncer on the way in, there would be no cash exchanging hands inside. The money for the room and lap dance was paid to the bouncer on the way in. With the cameras videotaping on the club's system, it not only kept the girls safe, it would prove if need be that the only thing they could be charged with was using. Perhaps possession. And maybe, if a police officer was pressed to make something stick, having sex in a strip club, but that was a stretch. And all of them would be classified as misdemeanors.

The way things were set up, the only time the girls got handed cash was when they danced on stage. All other monies were handed directly to a man designated to protect the talent. He would in turn give them their take once it was clear they were not doing anything at the time. That was always done in the dressing room, when they were idle. And the club had a stellar reputation for paying them. A dancer had never been stiffed on what she'd truly earned. It was what made dancing there lucrative, providing you could handle the drugs, and selling your body for sex wasn't a deal breaker.

Taking Brandi's advice, Christina focused on making eye contact, trying to create a connection. It was easy to get a man to part with a dollar while on the stage. Sometimes a five. A fifty dollar for ten minute visit to a semi-private stall proved slightly more difficult, even though the lap dance would be fully nude. A hundred for a half-hour seemed like a bargain, but that was a lot of money in that area of the city. And that was taking into account the type of establishment it was, where groping the dancers wasn't discouraged at all. Christina had been fingered a couple of times already, once while still on stage. It was commonplace.

That didn't mean the place was unsafe. She'd already seen one man get out of hand with a dancer going by the name Essence. She was a cute, busty black girl with incredible abs and dozens of tattoos. The guy tried to finger her as well, which she wouldn't have minded had he washed his hands in the last month. And even then she would have let him if he'd snorted some candy first. Within seconds of trying to take liberties and her objecting because he wasn't going to follow the rules, he'd been punched in the gut and the face by a bouncer that appeared out of the shadows. He was escorted out the back door to an alley, where Christina was convinced he was in store for a more violent ending to his evening.

As odd as that seemed on the surface, that made her feel safer. The owners knew the key to moving product was keeping the girls working. And that meant looking after them with a very close eye.

She was on the pole, slowly working her way out of her latest outfit. It was a bit ironic that she was performing as a stripper, and the part that was coming easiest to her was the aerial acrobatics. It was taking her a while to figure out how to get undressed sexily. Not that the men crowding the stage cared. They were captivated by her smoking hot body, her unique hairstyle coupled with her new tattoos, and her incredible emerald eyes.

One of the things that stood out to them, with the vast amount of special lighting, was the tattoos. Especially the one above her pussy that proclaimed her being Queen of spades. There was also the marking designed into the butterfly on her back, but the way the one on her pubic mound practically glowed in the black lights made her suddenly very popular amongst the crowd.

She'd had the foresight to put her wedding ring on her right hand, hoping to shift any focus that she was in any way attached. She didn't have to be married to love big black cock. And she was certainly in the perfect place to get some... but with a cost. She was crawling and rolling about on the floor to the sounds of some rap music she'd never heard before. She didn't care about the tune, or the lyrics. All she cared about was the bass beat so she could grind to it. She'd said as much to Dustin Jackson, better known as DJ the DJ, who was the emcee and provider of the vibe, as he called it.

Brandi and Christina had to pay him a visit prior to getting on the dance card. He put them into the rotation, but only after he fucked each of them. For Brandi, it was her fourth time signing up. She knew what to expect. A fat cock as thick as a beer can that only wanted ass. Christina's anal ring was still throbbing from the reaming he'd given her. Ten minutes of hard pile driving. But no climax. He wasn't interested in nutting yet. That would come when he'd select the stripper of the shift, who was rewarded with a harder, longer pounding. And not even necessarily by him. If he wasn't going to treat himself to the winner, he'd pull on of the other girls into his booth. They all knew better than to refuse his advances, as it would get them fired.

"We want the winner to be one of us," Brandi told her, referring to the contest.

"Why?"

She couldn't tell her she knew the reason. Or better yet, the reason she was going to say why. All she would say was, "I just think it'll help us going forward. We need to both be in the running, but one of us has to win."

Christina was still relatively sober. She was high from the large rig of wax they'd smoked before leaving the motel. But she'd not yet made that initial trip to the VIP area. She was working on it though. She crawled to a huge man, flopping over onto her back and spreading her legs for him. Catching his eyes with hers, she was actually able to tear his attention away from that heavenly view.

As soon as her set was over she was back in the minimal outfit she'd chosen to start, and was making her way to the handsome hunk. Sitting on his knee, she wasted little time getting to know him.

"I'm Venus," she cooed as she tongued his ear deeply.

"Digging for gold, babygirl?"

She wondered if all black men used that as a pet name. Still, she focused. "Just showing what I can do with it, lover."

"Lover?" he laughed. "Presumptuous, much?"

"Men who call me babygirl usually end up fucking me. I assumed you knew that...."

"Steve. Are you really into BBC, babygirl?" he said with a voice dripping with sexual overtones.

"Do you really think I'd tat myself like this if I wasn't?" she replied, still licking inside his ear as she ran her hand over his muscular chest. "How about you come party with me, and I'll show you. I might even be talked into tonguing your ass, Stevie."

Three minutes later they were in the VIP room, Steve having paid for a half hour with her. She stripped naked, fully prepared to fuck him. All it took was him doing some cocaine with her. She had to go first, and she pulled out his cock, getting him hard in seconds. Reaching for the readily available vile, she opened the top.

"What you doing?"

"Partying. Want some?" she teased. "I'll rock your world if you join me. Otherwise it's just a lap dance."

He knew the drill. Steve had been there before. Many times. But he rarely decided to go that far. Still, there was something about her that was incredibly intoxicating.

"You're new her, aren't you, Venus."

"Yeah, why?"

"Word of advice. If you want us to party, don't go straight for the coke. You gotta work it a bit."

"I'm going to work it. But I'm not playing. I meant what I said. You party with me, and I'll be eating your ass in less than two minutes. Get undressed."

Oddly, Steve did. He even snorted first, because she laid on her back and put a line on her pubic mound for him. He snorted it, then licked her quickly.

"I'm supposed to be bringing you pleasure, Stevie. Lie down."

She put two lines on his chest, snorting them both. The intense high hit her quickly, and she came alive. She was so turned on doing what she was doing. Gone was the nervousness. The fear. She was in the moment. Even the drugs didn't bother her. Her goal going to the club that night was not to fuck up. Better to snort coke that to be shot up with it. Or worse, heroin. She'd accepted her fate to keep the nightmare from hitting her world at home. And if she were forced to do it, she was going to damn sure make the best of it. It beat eating Alice.

Hell, it was better than tonguing Marvin. She bent Steve's legs back, giving herself room. Seconds later she was digging deep in his ass, making him squirm. She made a meal of it, stroking his massive manhood while she ate his hole, licking up and down his crack. Then she sucked his balls, slathering them. Pushing her face into them. A self teabag.

Once she started sucking him, it was full on. No pretending or toying. She sucked him all the way down and began fucking him with her mouth and throat.

"God damn, babygirl! You're the real deal."

"I'm a Queen... of spades," she boasted. Getting on her hands and knees, she put her ass up for him. "Fuck me Stevie."

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

"How you holding up?" Brandi asked as they finally met up in the locker room. The two of them had been pretty much on their own from the start, needing to work separately.

"I'm addicted," Christina admitted, using a tissue to sop up the cum that was dripping from her cunt. She was loose from the number of cocks she'd taken, cum was flowing out of her like a sieve, running down her thighs.

"How many have you done?"

"Lines, or cocks?"

"Ha! Both, I guess."

"Well, I'm addicted to both, that's for sure. And to the dancing. No wonder Sabrina loves this life."

"I have to be honest, I'm stunned at how great you are on the pole. I mean, I know you said you took classes, but doing it with a crowd of horny men in those platforms? You're amazing!"

"Thanks. You are too... but I would have guessed that."

"What makes you say that?"

"There's not much you can't do when it comes to sexual expression."

"Aww, that's sweet. I'm not sure how fucking and doing coke plays into that, but I'll take a compliment any way I can get it. I'm five and five," Brandi admitted.

"What?"

"I've dones five lines and fucked five guys. One guy only wanted a lap dance, the fucker."

"Ha! I've had two of those. I've done seven lines and fucked six. This last guy came like Alex. The way he fucked me, I think he's been backed up for months."

"Probably was."

"I did have one that was lame, but it counts."

"Lame?"

"I think he'd been with two or three other girls tonight before he was with me. He's definitely more wasted than me, and that's saying something right now. I think cocaine is the enemy of erections. I couldn't get him up for the longest time. I finally got him stuffed inside me eventually and fucked him for a couple of minutes before he went soft again. But it was enough, so he's paying for a fuck. I don't care that he couldn't cum."

"Listen to you. You're like a veteran stripper."

"Beginner stripper. Veteran whore. Remind me not to start the night tomorrow doing two lines. Got any aspirin?"

Brandi gave her three. "Why'd you start with two? You need to pace yourself. Small lines, one at a time."