Hollow Pleasure Ch. 04

*** Disclaimer ***

FAIR WARNING— The following installment (in particular) contains themes of CUCKOLDRY, humiliation, hypnosis, mind control, non-consent, exhibitionism, elements of gang rape. You've been warned.

This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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Hollow Pleasure chapter 04

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2B

Kate Galloway didn't sleep especially well. Her stomach felt like it was in knots, just rolling over and over with nervous anxiety for the coming day. She had (what she sometimes called) 'Paranoia Dreams'. Her mind didn't make much sense of the images and sounds that she heard, but she found herself tossing and turning in a perpetual state of half-wakefulness.

In the early morning hours, sleep finally caught and held. But that was when the dream began.

Maybe it was the change in environment that triggered the memories. Or maybe it was the semi-military career that she was now participating in. Or even just the nerves from the job change, of which she had many.

She found herself in a place she knew, and it chilled her. The sounds struck her first. The empty electronic bells and jingles from thousands upon thousands of slot machines. Some played tunes, some talked, and some just blared out senseless noise. The one beside her played a tune she had heard a million times before, but had forgotten until this moment when her brain called forth the memory from a deep dark corner- one filled with cobwebs and moss.

When she heard the melody she knew instantly where she was. "Oh no," she whispered to herself.

Red carpet in a molten lava pattern. A winding maze of flashing lights made up the jungle of slot machines. The glowing colors of the bars spaced evenly throughout the floor. A green velvet arrangement of table games.

She took in all of the sights, and she would later find it odd how correct everything was. Galloway often had dreams where she was in her childhood house, only the house didn't look at all like the real home. Her mind just established "this is it" and she accepted it in her sleep. But tonight, this was the casino, in memory and reality.

She spun in a circle, her heart pounding in her ears. She knew the place well, but one thing that she didn't recognize was the odd lack of people. The casino had been open twenty four hours a day, seven days a week, year round. There were always people. But tonight the place was oddly empty, so much so that it frightened her. And that was what began to needle at her, building a steady knot of dread in her stomach. Something bad was coming.

Galloway glanced down at herself and gasped. She was in her old security guard uniform. She recognized the boots that she hadn't worn for years, and the bright shiny badge gleamed in the flashing lights, pinned onto a hideous robin's egg blue faux police shirt.

Galloway immediately wanted to take off the shirt, to discard the uniform, but then she heard it and stopped.

The echo of screams from the cashier's cage, phantom voices— voices from the past. Then the deep rumble of explosions as the cage doors were blown from their hinges... the crisp pops of gunfire followed. Men spilled out through the doorway. Four silhouettes like harbingers of death. Until the day she'd die, she would never forget any of it.

Galloway started to run. She wasn't sure where, but she needed to get away. The slot machine maze was endless, and the phantom screams drowned out her pounding heart. She still couldn't see any people, though she could hear them. Right now, it was just her, and the four robbers. She opened her mouth to scream out for her coworkers, but no sound came. Quinn? Where was Quinn? In a distant corner of her memory, she remembered that he had run with her. But tonight, she was completely alone.

The gunshots grew louder. She was aware that she was being chased... and like all dreams, her run turned to slow motion. Her legs were leaden. She couldn't move.

And that was when she was grabbed. A pale gaunt man with a bald head, prison tattoos, and razor sharp teeth had snared her by the ponytail. One of the robbers. His eyes gleamed with a demonic glow. She struggled, but his grip was strong.

Other men were on either side of him now. Three others. Their features came into focus. One of the robbers was wearing a security uniform. Officer Jones. He'd sold them out for easy cash.

"Shhh, it'll all be over in a second," said Prison Tattoos, his voice was a hiss. Galloway saw the gleam of a sharp wicked blade.

She braced. This was the point that Jones had punched Prison Tattoos in the face, allowing Galloway to escape. "Not her," Jones had said to Prison Tattoos— he liked Galloway.

But this time, that moment never came... This time, things played out differently...

The knife came to rest against the top button of Galloway's uniform. He sliced it off with a quick flick of his wrist.

Galloway cast a questioning glance to the robbers. They were all leering at her beneath their ski masks. Even Jones. Oh no.

Another flick of the wrist, and the next button popped free. Another, and her breasts were exposed, straining the tight confines of her bra. Her chest was rising and falling in deep gasping breaths.

The blade continued until the entire front of her shirt had been sliced open. Her terrified breathing making her chest swell. Her belly bare. Then Prison Tattoos slashed away the straps of her bra with expert precision. One of the men grabbed her bra and yanked it away, revealing her plump round breasts to the group. They pushed her back onto one of the green felt blackjack tables. "Nooo," she whined softly in her sleep.

As they shredded her uniform from her body, Galloway felt on display. Not just to this group of bad men, but suddenly the casino was filled to the brim of gamblers, and employees, customers, and drunks. They had come out of nowhere to witness her exposure and humiliation. They all gathered around, watching as the robbers stripped her clothes from her body in an animalistic frenzy.

She struggled, but the more she felt their eyes on her fit, toned body, the more she fought a chill. Her body shivered, and trembled. There was a growing warmth deep down... She became aware that this attack was somehow turning her on. Why?

"Look at that slut," one of the customers gasped, casting judging eyes on her body.

"Damn, she's got some grade-A tits," someone else said. A robber reached out, and grasped one of her puffy pink nipples, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger.

Galloway arched her back and let out a whimper that turned into a moan.

"What a whore! She loves it," he declared.

"While on duty," customers said, shaking their heads.

She fought to sit up and see what they were doing, but they held her fast. The feeling of being pinned only made her more wet. She had always been a woman who was in control. To become overwhelmed was a completely new sensation.

Galloway moaned and squirmed, even as two of the robbers leaned forward, and took her breasts in each mouth. They began to suck hungrily. Prison Tattoos continued to disrobe her, mindful to leave her boots, and duty belt in place, to remind her of her job and obligations that she was now shirking. She kicked at him, but her efforts were feeble... maybe her heart wasn't in it...

"Stop," Galloway moaned softly, but that only seemed to make them more hungry. The two who suckled at her chest, pulled more aggressively, slurping and licking.

"See that boys?" Prison Tattoos declared. "This pig fuckin' loves it! Don't you piggy?"

Galloway shut her eyes. She'd always looked up to police and authority figures her whole life. To even hear them call her that was like blasphemy to her ears... but when they said it... she felt her nipples harden. It was actually turning her on.

She was moaning excitedly now, as Prison Tattoos ran his hard rough hands over her wet pussy lips. Her head lolling from side to side, looking to the massive crowd of people who were gathering around to witness her defilement.

"Let's give this pig something to gobble up," Prison Tattoos declared. Suddenly an enormous black cock appeared in front of her face. Galloway didn't need to glance up to know it was Officer Jones' rock hard member. The biggest she'd ever seen.

Galloway didn't question her actions further. She didn't even hesitate. She liked it and she knew it. She opened her mouth wide, and slid her tongue in a slow sensual circle around the bulbous head. She was rewarded when a drop of precum seeped out, and she flicked it lightly into her mouth with a fast tongue movement. Then she leaned over and stuffed her mouth full of Jones' cock.

"Suck it, you slut," Jones' deep voice was ordering her. Not that it was necessary. Galloway eagerly sucked at his cock, as the accomplices worked on her tits. They were going to gang rape her here on this gaming table in front of the whole casino. But was it really gang rape? Galloway was shamefully more aroused than she'd ever been. And 'shameful' was an understatement. These men had stormed into her work place, shot and killed people—including her friends, they'd put a bullet in her shoulder, and now they were stripping her on a gaming table and forcing her into a sex act. What the hell was wrong with her that she was pleasuring them? That she was turned on by the despicable act? She was betraying more than just her friends and the victims of these monsters. She was betraying herself. It flew in the face of everything she believed, yet she was wetter than ever.

She knew she would perform the sluttiest acts imaginable for them... because she couldn't stop herself. "I am a slut," she cried out in a lusty voice, not her own, before sucking Jones' cock straight to the back of her throat.

The men were biting her nipples, and it was making her squeal in pleasure. She was gasping, leaning over on her side, to better bob her head on her tormentor's manhood. Then she felt her legs pulled apart. She glanced down in time to see Prison Tattoos— fully naked now. He was wagging a cock the size of a baseball bat at her. The mushroom-like head pointing straight toward what he was about to claim as his own— her body. Her pussy lips were glistening with excitement.

Among the crowd, she heard gasps as the man's monster cock was fully revealed. And somehow, impossibly, Galloway noticed that the robber's legs weren't human legs. They were the legs of a goat— like the devil, himself, was about to fuck her. She couldn't stop herself. She opened her legs, willing to accept it.

She needed it. She needed it badly.

"Fuck me," she found herself begging. "Fuck me hard!" Her body was tingling all over. Her pussy felt like it was on the verge of orgasm, though he hadn't yet touched her. She knew the second that he put it in her, she would cum. There was no way she could stop herself.

"Take me," she pleaded, even as the devil man grabbed her by the thighs, and thrust himself into her body. The pleasure was so intense, Galloway could only see a blinding light. She screamed as she felt her body ready to go off. She was going to orgasm right here on the blackjack table in front of thousands...

"Yesssss..." she started to cry out.

Despite her every effort to not enjoy this, there was no denying it. She was going to climax. And it promised to be a powerful one. "Ohhhhh godddd!" Her back arched. Her moan was loud...

Suddenly the shrill blaring of an alarm cut through the pleasure and it all began to fade. The orgasm that she had building up was retreating like a vampire from the sunrise.

Galloway returned to the surface of sleep, finding herself alone in her bedroom, struggling to catch her breath, staring dumbfounded and disoriented at the flashing clock beside her bed. She whimpered for so many reasons. She was utterly exhausted. She hadn't gotten nearly enough sleep last night, and her muscles were more sore than they'd ever been from training. And when she put her hands between her legs, her fingers came away damp. Even the act of touching sent waves of pleasure through her body from the orgasm that she'd been denied.

"Fuck my life," she said, aware of how badly she wanted to lay back and get some real rest... probably after finishing off the orgasm that she'd been cheated out of. Her cheeks reddened as she recalled the dream. It was especially fucked up. The idea of being gang raped in public by the monsters who'd caused so much hurt and destruction. Why had it turned her on so much? It wasn't at all like her to sexualize scumbags like that.

Still... there was no denying that it had turned her on considerably— all loss of power and control... of humiliation and degrading herself and her badge to the public... of the taboo of rewarding those who broke the law by granting them access to her body and the pleasure she could bring them...

Her mind lingered on it for a moment longer, before she shook those thoughts aside. A dream and nothing more.

Regardless, the sun was coming up. It took a lot of mental strength, but she eventually got up, showered, dressed and packed her gear. She didn't dare consider leaving the house without a coffee today.

She really didn't want to go to this job. It was so beyond her realm of knowledge, that she was horribly worried she was making a life-altering mistake. This was such unfamiliar territory, that she was terrified she'd journey miles down a path, only to realize it wasn't at all where she wanted to be, and she would be too deep 'in the woods' to easily find her way onto another path.

She contemplated how familiar it would be to go back to her old job as a bartender. There was a degree of comfort to that. And better yet was the thought of crawling back into bed and rubbing away all these feelings and emotions with the orgasm that she desperately needed.

Instead, she pulled open the door to her apartment and found a note taped up, written on lined notebook paper. She unfolded it and saw the scribbled mess of handwriting that could only be from the shy nervous boy from across the hall that she'd befriended.

"Dear Kate Galloway, it was nice meeting you and hanging out. Thank you again for dinner and for letting me hang out until my mom got home. I'm sorry that you feel nervous about your new job. Don't be. You have a REALLY cool job! But in case you are, this might cheer you up. My mom used to tell me whenever I didn't want to go to school, 'Just do what you have to do to make it fun, no matter what. The day will go faster and before you know it, you'll be going home.' I hope that helps. -Ethan (a.k.a. 2A)."

Galloway smiled and went to work.

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3A

Robert Bradford slept very little, and had awaken in the early morning hours— even despite the midnight rendezvous with the hot little mom who lived in the apartment below. He was thrilled in a way that energized him. He was like a little kid attempting to sleep on Christmas Eve. There was just too much excitement, too much potential. His mind couldn't stop concocting wicked scenarios— fabricating the filthiest fantasies imaginable for his sexy neighbors.

He felt powerful— the building was his. It was his kingdom, his playground. And all of the tenants... they were his playthings.

He made himself a coffee and sat in his turret office, spinning slowly in his desk chair and contemplating the maps of his apartment building, as well as notes on each of his neighbors. He knew he'd started compiling them for a reason! Initially he thought he was using them as inspiration for characters in upcoming novels. But now they were the characters in his diabolical fantasies. And the thing about characters in any story— they have motivations, things that drive them. How delicious it would be to orient his debauchery around what made each of them so special...

He set to work with post-its and scribbled notes.

Meg Richards, 2A, was a good, dedicated mom. But what if she wasn't? What if her sexual needs began to cross wires with her focus on being a mom? Rob grinned. He liked that. Her son, Ethan, the unfortunate teenager with the Tiny Tim-like crutches. Rob didn't know much about him. But that didn't matter. He gave it some thought. If his plans were to work, it would only be fun if he could observe... unnoticed. That brought him to his next tenant...

Kelsey Parker, 3B. His Kelsey. He decided against giving her a 'theme'. Pure and simple, she was his. That's how he wanted her. But she could also be of use for more than just sex. Rob turned to his computer array and began to type out a narrative for the day. Really, it was more of a honey-do list for Kelsey. Today she would skip work, in order to run some errands for him. He needed tools, and electronics (in particular, cameras and microphones). If he was going to expand his harem, he needed better ways to monitor the building. Part of him felt bad, using her for chores... but how was that any different from sex? He'd be sure to reward her later.

Then there was the cop in 2B— Kate Galloway. He added her to the big board and stared at her name for a long time, tapping his pen against his cheek. She worried him, though he wasn't able to say why. Maybe it was her profession. While he had no doubts at this point that she'd act out whatever sick fantasies he could dream up, it probably wouldn't be wise to dive straight in. A cop had to have cop buddies— people outside of the walls of this place. And if she suspected anything was happening to her, the fallout might extend beyond Rob's ability to contain it. No. With her, he needed to work carefully... plant the seed, maybe give her a new "fetish" to explore. Put some needling little idea in her head that might arouse her. But he'd do it in a way where she wouldn't suspect any external forces at play. He needed her convinced that her own perverse mind had created this, and nothing else...

Dreams. That was how Rob decided to strike. While he didn't know Galloway's past, he kept it vague— typing up an open-ended narrative on his magical mind control computer— something where her mind could fill in the personal details with her own memories. He drafted up a fantasy— a reoccurring dream that suddenly went off the rails and aroused her in ways that she never imagined she could be- something embarrassing that would compromise her morals and shock her conscience...

Although Rob never thought of himself as a criminal and didn't like to, even now, he was aware that the women he was fucking weren't exactly of sound consenting mind. They were under a spell that he triggered with the simple act of typing. What better way to deal with someone on the right side of the law, than to give them a guilty fetish for those on the *wrong* side of the law. Galloway would start to enjoy the idea of degrading herself for the pleasure of men who she viewed as monsters, as scum, as despicable. Especially an alpha who is always in control... the thought of having no control will become her new trigger. If she could be conditioned to accept these types of men as her sexual turn-ons, she'd ultimately see Rob as a source of pleasure instead of torment.

Rob liked that. It was poetic. When he was finished with his draft, he hit enter. It was a shot in the dark. He had no idea what she'd dream about, and desperately wished he could know. He imagined her one floor down, writhing and gasping in her bed, fighting her way through the nightmare that he'd just sent her way... and finding a guilty pleasure from it. She'd wake up, sweaty and aroused, wondering why the hell she was so worked up. "Sweet dreams," he whispered. "Mwahaha..." he rubbed his hands together and did his best evil villain laugh. He shivered... nerves combined with excitement. He was giddy.