Crime in the City Ch. 02

The fallen Prince - Crime in the City - Chapter Two -

All participants in this story were 18 years of age or older when the events depicted occurred. It was written for a contest as the second installment of a 1000-word short story serial, Artie the King was the first installment.

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The child of his first marriage, Artie had four, Ron Hardeman held down a wide variety of jobs working for his father. His résumé included time at the parking concession, vending company, and multiple bars and restaurants. Ron had a tenth-grade education, which was two years more than Artie possessed. At the age of 22 he became the manager of both the Palais des Tuileries and Château de Saint-Cloud.

Ron took full advantage of that job's perks. He smoked weed, snorted cocaine and dabbled in crystal meth on the job and it was paid for by the clubs. He once bought a billboard near the stadium that showed a larger than life photograph of him flanked by two scantily clad exotic dancers. The advertisement read "I liked the place so much - I bought the company." The gross inaccuracy of the slogan did not go over well with Artie.

But it was Ron's drug habits and his complete lack of social graces, deficiencies that were both perplexing to Artie and the result of Artie's own dubious parenting skills, that caused the whole Hardeman Express to come off the rails. As long as so many local municipalities shunned the so-called "vice-business" the providers, bars and strip clubs, were solid money-makers, no matter how ill-advised some of Ron's business decisions were.

Paying $15,000 per night to hire rock bands well past their heyday to perform at his advertised "one-Saturday-night-stands" at the Palais des Tuileries hadn't always brought in enough additional income to cover the added expenses. And Artie was quite upset the day he stopped by one of his clubs at six a.m. only to find Ron snorting rails of coke in the back room. He was even less happy when Ron reminded Artie that it was he who'd offered his son his first bump.

For all of their bickering, father and son shared a keen interest in naked strippers and barmaids. Ron hooked up with an attractive and ambitious 21-year-old Palais des Tuileries dancer named Lynette Monroe, whom he had introduced to the metroplex as one of his billboard showgirls. Lynette was bright and quickly parlayed her affair with Ron into a permanent position, first behind the bar, and then in the backroom.

In the club's back room, her business acumen managed to catch the eye of Ron's father who was used to seeing eye candy, not competence. Soon she had "traded up," and was functionally managing both clubs. Ron moved on to another dancer while Artie moved Lynette into his mansion and his bed. Artie's wild side did not bother her. Life was cushy, many of the exotic dancers were intimate with other dancers. That being so much better than fucking the club's clientele or the guys she knew back home.

Lynette got used to and then came to enjoy Artie's penchant for delivering forced orgasms. On any given night she might be the one tied to the bed, or she might be the tormentor. With Arnie any role was possible. The only rule was that each evening always ended with the king's penis being plunged into a bound girl's soaking wet and overheated vagina. Artie pounding away and making her cry and scream in a heavily textured tapestry of painful pleasure and pleasurable pain.

Power, and its measuring stick money are a proven aphrodisiac, and just as Lynette was drawn to Artie, Jeanie had been. Becoming somewhat wiser with age, Artie took as his third wife not a trophy waitress or stripper as his first two had been, but an attractive real-estate agent who first assisted in and later was responsible for investing the cash derived from gambling operations. Jeanie was inspired, her investments, initially funded by laundered money, were bought and sold and used to launder additional cash. Set up in a legitimate business by Artie, Jeanie was happy to rule over her bailiwick and unconcerned with the clubs..

Ron finally exhausted his father's patience in Hawai'i. Leaving Lynette in charge of the two clubs that she already functionally managed. Ron took a dancer he was fucking on a weeklong trip to Honolulu that he hadn't bothered to tell Artie about. But worse than charging their hotel suite, restaurant and bar tabs to the strip clubs business accounts, he rented a $115,000 Ferrari and proceeded to wreck it while driving under the influence. To make it worse when he took off he neglected to take his cocaine with him. The local cops recovered it from the scene.

Instead of arranging bail and calling the club's attorney as Ron requested, his father fired him long-distance over the telephone and officially made Lynette the manager of both clubs two minutes later. Then he threw her a party. Although Artie would grant Ron's request to secure for his son representation and his release, that delay while his father partied, his uncertainty over the criminal case confronting him and his significantly diminished capacity within the organization led to Ron's eventual decision to cooperate with Federal prosecutors.

For Lynette's promotion ceremony Artie called two of the more agreeable dancers into the office. Once there, he securely bound a naked Lynette to her new desk, and retrieved a box of sex toys from the file drawer. Then he sat back in the swivel chair watching the two girls plunge their fingers, tongues, dildoes and vibrators into their new boss' dripping cunt, lick her intimate folds and make her "little woman in the boat" stand proud until she could take no more stimulation.

He watched them vibe, finger, lick and slap her foaming, rothy, overheated vagina to orgasm after orgasm. Then when she appeared to be on the edge of either blessed madness or loss of consciousness. When Artie was ready to go. To the cheers of the two strippers he mounted Lynette and showed her twat no mercy. Plunging his rock hard sexagenarian cock inside of her, and pumping for all he was worth until he spasmed, sending his raw essence into her.