Alex - 10 Days of Torment Ch. 25

"Great. I've been doing them the same as yesterday with Frank and Vinnie. Thick and long. I'm really worried I'm already addicted."

"Well no shit. I can't believe you're taking that much. You just need to do enough to get them to do it too. Hell, I'm surprised you're standing."

"I've been on my back most of the night, B. I thought that's what was expected, at least as far as how heavy the lines needed to be. I did change to just doing one after Steve, though."

"Who's Steve."

"The first guy I fucked. God, he was awesome. Came like a sperm cannon. I was really surprised he wasn't dripping out of me during my next set."

"Are you letting them all cum in you?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Brandi was ecstatic inside. She wasn't sure if her training would take. The day before she'd given Frank and Vinnie explicit instructions not to cum inside Christina. She'd swallowed one load and took the other one on the small of her back. But with the men that were paying to fuck her, she'd reverted to what she was told she had to do as the street hooker she'd been the first two nights in Vegas. If they were black, they weren't going to wear condoms, and they could cum wherever they wanted. Dominant black men used white women however they felt like using them. Brandi had been subtly ingraining that mindset into her friend's brain, and it appeared it had taken root.

"Fuck Chris, you are a whore. Gerard isn't here. He's not going to know. We're not being taped right now. You could swallow a few. Or let them cum on you somewhere."

"Now you tell me."

"No wonder," she said, sounding like she'd just figured something out.

"What?"

"I heard a couple of the other girls talking. You're getting a reputation. I actually heard Turquoise say she's going to have to start douching more often because one of the new dancers was a cum dumpster. That's you."

"Turquoise? Oh... the hot Native American?"

"She's one hundred percent Southern Paiute."

"I... I've honestly never heard of that tribe."

"You would if you lived around here. The tribe owns the world's largest legal marijuana dispensary. They own the largest cigarette retail store. They even own a resort with three championship golf courses, among a lot of other things. She apparently sees her future doing this, at least for now. But she's not happy with you."

"What? Why? And what does she mean, calling me a cum dumpster?"

"It means you're letting every guy dump their cum into your cunt. It's nothing but a dumpster. That can't be a new term to you. And yes, she's pissed. She said she's going to have to start letting guys cum inside her because they're going to want that more than not now. She's not going to lose a guy to a whore that's willing to do that every time. Stripping is competitive, and she's definitely not happy about it. And if she knows, you can bet the other girls know too. You've changed the expectations."

"Does that mean what I think it means?"

"If you think it means that Venus Butterfly has gained a reputation in one night as being the stripper that let's every black guy nut inside her, and that she's going to have to keep doing that now because it's what they expect her to do, then yes... that's what it means."

"God... I am such a fucking idiot."

"Well, I didn't tell you, so I guess some of it's on me. But I figured you'd know. Vinnie and Frank didn't nut inside you. And like I said, I can't video you in here, so Gerard wouldn't know. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault. I guess I'm just so worried about fucking up and getting shot up with H, I'm overcompensating by going too far. I'm going to have to start douching too."

"Yeah, I'm not sure about that," she said with a shake of her head.

"Really?"

"Have any of the guys tonight been upset that they're getting sloppy whatever number it is?"

"No. At least they haven't complained to me about it."

"Then that's your reputation. And frankly, you're getting more guys than the rest of us, so there must be something to it."

"So, I'm supposed to act like I'm a street hooker again."

"Apparently you never stopped, so yeah. If it wasn't a problem for you up until now, then you can't pretend it's one for you now, even if it really is."

"But I didn't think I had a choice."

"I know. Unfortunately because you've been doing it all night, you don't have one now."

Christina let out a long, anguished sigh, upset with herself for not paying better attention. Or at least thinking through what was happening. Brandi was silently ecstatic. She couldn't let on how thrilled she was that pretty much every guy Christina had let fuck her so far had deposited his load inside what she knew was a fertile womb. She was stunned Christina wasn't thinking about that. Then there was the video evidence she'd need to use later. No, she hadn't lied. There was no way she could have been dancing and fucking herself, away from Christina, and taking video of her too. But that didn't mean she didn't have help. Frank had made arrangements for one of his bouncers to record her every move from the security camera system and forward to clips to Christina's phone so Brandi could upload them later.

"God, this plan is going better than I ever imagined. I'm going to have her knocked up and hooked on H in days!" she gleefully said to herself as she headed to the stage.

"I'm heading back out, Chris? Are you up next?"

"No."

"No? Why not?"

She looked up sheepishly from the floor. "I've already got three guys lined up that want to fuck me. That's pretty much going to take me to the end of the shift. If I've already pissed off other girls by being the whore I apparently am, there's no reason to be looked at as a greedy whore too. I have to leave some available for the rest."

"I'm not sure if that's conceited, or noble."

"It's just fact at this point. See you when this is over."

"Okay. Back off the amount you're snorting. And be safe."

"I will. You too."

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

Tuesday Evening, May 20th -- DAY 5

Maggie was busy directing the kids. The movers had dropped off all of her possessions, at least those that she chose to keep, and she had Tommy and Sarah helping her organize.

Sarah was in charge of her closet, putting away clothes and shoes by type and color according to a chart Maggie had made for her. And she was doing an excellent job of it. Their talk about fashion and color coordinating had taken, and the youngster was a natural. The only issue was she was she was having to use a step stool to help her hang some of the items.

Tommy was working in the family area, moving and placing various pieces of decorations. From lamps, to pictures, to plants and everything in between. He was quickly turning what was an incredible house into a cozy home. And he was doing most of it on his own. He'd seen how his mother's mind worked when it came to placement and spacing, trying different combinations until he settled on one he liked.

Maggie kept going back and forth to check on them in between putting things away in the kitchen. She'd yet to have to tell either of them to make a change on what they decided on. There were a few things she would have done differently, but it wasn't anything she couldn't live with. To her, it would have had to have been an issue that would have created confusion in her closet, or an obvious faux pas regarding decor to make a decision to alter what one of them chose. It was important that she let them work things out and prove to them her trust in the abilities was well-earned.

Maggie was barefoot as she puttered about the spacious kitchen area. The breeze coming through the windows off the ocean was warm, and she would have been able to hear the waves, except they were all jamming to her soundbar and sub woofer installed into the television. They were connected to her Amazon Alexa, and through that she was playing music from her Spotify music account.

"MAGGIE!" Tommy yelled from the living room.

"YES TIGER!?"

"WHO ARE WE LISTENING TO!?"

"THIS IS NOTHING BUT THIEVES!"

"WHAT!?"

"ALEXA... PAUSE!" The music came to an abrupt halt, and she smiled at him from across the room. "It's a group called Nothing But Thieves. They're an English band. This is their second album, Broken Machine."

"I love his voice," Tommy replied with enthusiasm.

"Conor? Yeah. It's really different, isn't it."

"A lot different than the Foo Fighters guy. He's good too though."

"Dave Grohl. Yeah. It's funny. He doesn't think he's a very good singer. He stills thinks of himself as a drummer."

"He's a drummer? That's what I want to play."

"He was the drummer in another band first. He can play several instruments, actually. Guitar, bass, keyboards."

"Wait? You're allowed to play more than one?"

"Of course. The more you can do, the more options you have when it comes to being in a band."

"Huh. I've got to talk to my music teacher in school."

"If you want me to do that with you, let me know."

"Really?"

"Sure. The sooner you start, the better you'll end up being."

"Thanks Maggie. You can turn it back on now. I wanna hear more."

"I wanna hear about Janey," she said about the girl he admitted liking.

"What?"

"We never talked. Did you tell her that you like her?"

He grinned sheepishly. "Yeah. At lunch."

"And?"

"She likes me too," he beamed.

"So what does that mean?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. We sat together at lunch, though. Yesterday and today."

"Well aren't you a stud! I told you. Be confident. Girls love that in their men."

"Thanks, Maggie."

"You're welcome. Alexa... resume!"

The music kicked in, and they grooved as they went back to work. They finished an hour later, having listened to the band's self-titled debut album next. Once that was done, they were off to the pool for a half-hour before the kids had to get ready for bed.

Alex had cooked out, and was cleaning up the kitchen when the call to swim rang out. He hurried and finished so he could join in. And Maggie put him in charge of getting them showered and off to bed, as she was going to start looking at some of the files Kalinda had emailed earlier that afternoon.

She expected her and Billy to be coming back by later that night. She'd gotten a call from Billy that Kalinda was on to something, but he wasn't able to tell her what just yet. He did convey that it appeared it might be another break.

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

Late Tuesday Evening, May 20th -- DAY 5

Kalinda and Billy sat on a bench along the Ocean Front Walk of Venice Beach, the sun about to set over the Pacific behind them. They were playing the waiting game, staking out a place just to the south of them, watching the foot traffic in and out.

"Are you sure?" Billy asked.

Looking at him, she said, "Of what? That that's the place she got the tattoos, or that it has ties to selling drugs?"

"Both, babe."

"The tattoos... ninety percent that the owner is the artist. I've had too many people I've shown it to point to him. Especially with the special ultra violet inks that were used. He's apparently on a very small list of people that can do that in this area. Like, three or four, tops. As for the drugs? I'd say it's a little better than fifty-fifty. This definitely used to be a front for drugs. But my intel is saying it's not anymore. The word on the street is he's gone legit."

"If that's the case, why are we here?"

"You don't know?"

"I have my opinion. I want to know if it aligns with yours."

"Hmm... still testing our capability, are you."

"Not as much as I'm trying to confirm we think a lot alike. That's important. If we're a team, I need to know what you're likely thinking so I can anticipate what I need to do. It's like great sex. It happens when we can feel each other's needs and read each other's minds."

"Oh, I think we've got that down, Bill," she winked.

"So, what are you thinking?"

"Assuming I'm correct about the tattoos, and I am, he would be one of the last people that would have interacted with Christina before she went to Vegas. He likely would have with Brandi as well. My guess, and it's just a guess, is that he knows her... well. My point in being here is to see if we can get him to spill anything that might help us."

"And how do you intend to do that?"

"Use the more than likely true theory about drugs being sold out of the back of the storefront."

"See that. We're simpatico," he grinned.

They waited another ten minutes, watching while not watching, when Billy noticed the door open out of the corner of his eye.

"That's the last one, Kal."

"Blonde with the big tits?" she replied without looking.

"Yeah. It should be clear."

"Let's go before he can close up."

They walked into the tattoo shop shortly afterward, a good ten minutes before the hours painted on the window said it would close. The chimes announced their arrival, and a tall, wiry man with slicked back hair walked out of the back.

"Hello, folks. We're about to shut 'er down for the night. You got time to look around and pick something out you might like, but I won't be able to ink until tomorrow. I can fit you in around lunch."

"We're not here to get a tattoo."

"Oh... sorry. Well, depending on what it is, I might be able to pierce you, but I'll be honest, I hate to rush something like that. It would have to be an ear or a nose."

"Not here for that either," Billy said in his deep voice, the reverberation rattling around the room.

"Well what can I help you with?"

Kalinda took the next line, the two of them feeding off of each other. "You can answer a few questions for us. You're Spencer Gilbert, right?"

"I don't know that name."

Billy jumped on that lie, sensing the tension in the man's body language. "Is that because that's the name we'd find on your criminal record? You know they put aliases in those, too, Spike. Especially for guys that deal drugs."

"Are you cops?"

Kalinda was forced to be honest. "No. Private investigators."

"Same thing. Get out."

"Not without some answers first," Billy growled in a low, controlled manner. He'd leaned forward, resting his hand on the counter, his huge bicep and forearm popping, showing the power and definition his arm contained. It was like the muscles were about to burst through the skin.

Kalinda unlocked her phone, pulling up a headshot of Christina prior to the drastic changes she underwent. "Do you recognize her?"

He tried not to react, but he flinched ever so quickly, and then visibly started started to perspire. "Uhhh... no. Never seen her before."

"Did you see his eyes, Kal?"

"Yep. They shifted down and to his right. He's lying."

"No I'm not!"

"That flash sweat you got going on would tell me different," Billy said, putting more pressure on him.

Kalinda thumbed the image to a second one; a close up screen capture of the butterfly tattoo on Christina's lower back. "That's your work, isn't it?"

"Huh? No. That's not mine."

"Really? I heard you were the expert in using those special glow in the dark inks."

"No. I've never used them before. Somebody else must've done that. Did something happen to her?"

"Why would you ask that?" Billy questioned sternly.

"Uh... just curious. You're asking if I've seen her. I haven't. End of story."

Kalinda smiled, throwing him off. "Spike? And your nickname is Spike. We're not wrong about that. Have you ever heard of Al Hirschfeld?"

"Al who?"

"Hirschfeld. He was a famous artist. He drew characaturs of famous people. Celebrities. He penned a lot of them for the New York Times back in the day."

"That's fascinating."

"It is. Here's why. Hirschfeld had one daughter, named Nina. And after she was born, he started hiding her name somewhere in the drawings. Look... here's a portrait of he did for Aerosmith's Draw the Line album. See right there, next to his signature, is the number three."

"Okay. So."

"He's telling us how many times he put Nina in the drawing."

"I don't understand."

She expanded the picture, focusing on the left side. "Look, there in the flip of Steven Tyler's hair? He put Nina in it. There's the N, and the I... well, you get it. He started putting tributes to her in every sketch he did. The bigger the piece, the more he'd try to fit in. It was like a game with him."

"Okay. What's that have to do with me?" he said in a defensive tone.

"When we started asking around about who did this ink, because it's really, really good, one of the guys we talked to said it was a Spike Gilbert. When we asked if he was sure, he showed us his. There, hidden in the design of his, was a railroad spike. It was actually pretty cool. Obviously you can't sign a tattoo, so you look for ways to identify it as your work. You're the Al Hirschfeld of ink."

Billy had the picture of Christina's back tattoo on his phone too, and he'd already zoomed in. "You see that, Spencer? Right there in the thorax of the butterfly? It's a perfectly placed, proportional, railroad spike. Granted, it's incorporated in the design to camouflage it. But that, my friend, is your tattoo calling card. Now, I ask again in a different way... when was she here, and was she with Brandi Gardner."

The panic set in. The fears of what happened before flashed through him like a raging flood. He'd dodged that first nightmare. But it felt like he was about to get washed away with the current this time, and he wasn't that good of a swimmer.

"Yeah. Two nights ago. I did that tattoo."

"And where were they going?"

"Las Vegas. In a rental SUV."

"Was Christina okay when she left here?"

"You mean alive? Yeah. She was unconscious, but she was breathing."

"What do you mean unconscious?" Kalinda asked, grabbing him by his collar.

"It wasn't me. Brandi did it."

"Did what?"

"Drugged her."

"With what? Cocaine? Heroin?"

"No. Hell no. I don't do that anymore."

"You don't do what?"

"Sell that stuff! I'm clean. Nothing here. My focus is my art."

"So what kind of drug was she on, and why was she unconscious!?" Billy demanded.

"She shot her up with a sedative. Ketamine. She wanted her knocked out to make it easier to do the tattoos. And it worked. With her out, I was able to get 'em done in half the time."

Kalinda shook her head. "Are you saying she was tattooed against her will?"

"No. Well, maybe. I don't know. Look, she and Brandi are close. They're best friends. It was unusual. But everything with Brandi is unusual. She's got kind of an edge to her. She said this guy Christina is with, her bull? He's... well, he wanted it done. But he wanted her nipples pierced too and she loved them. I don't think Brandi would have done it if Christina wasn't on board. They're thick as thieves."

"Uh huh. Yet you can't say for sure."

"Well, no. Look, she was fine when they left here."

"But unconscious. I suppose you helped get her into the car."

"The SUV. Yeah," he said ashamedly. "Look, if something's happened to her, you'll have to ask Brandi what went on. They left together. I haven't seen or talked to either of them since."

"At this point, we're just trying to locate her."

"Like I said. Vegas. That's all I know."

Five minutes later they were in Kalinda's car, driving to Laguna Beach. She was melancholy. "I don't know what to think, Bill."

"Well, we got info. A lot more than I thought we would. And, I know this doesn't help how you're feeling right now, but we're amazing together."

"I'll celebrate that once we know Chris is safe. Did you see his reaction when I showed him her picture."

"He thinks she'd dead."

"That's what I felt. This is serious."

"And it's definitely her."

"Brandi?"

"Yeah. He started to implicate Gerard, but thought better of it."

"You're right. He stopped himself. You think he's scared of him?"