Molly's Labours

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Molly must follow the instructions of the Court of Midnight.
4k words
4.34
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Part 1 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/11/2023
Created 10/07/2022
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Molly's Labours

The email had been precise and explicit. Molly had read and re-read it.

'This is your first 'labour', other tasks that will allow you to progress to your ultimate reward.

The Court of Midnight does not admit beautiful young women unless they can 'prove' themselves to be an asset.

By completing the tasks, we have laid out for you, you demonstrate your suitability to face the court. Many pretty, smart girls have confessed their desire to face our 'select little group' but not all have that 'special' quality.

Be at the specified hotel room by eight precisely. The door will be unlocked for you. You will undress and show your body to the web cameras that will be set up. Don't even think you could trace them, we have far more resources than even you could imagine.

You will be joined by two of the court. Follow their instructions to the letter. If they are satisfied with you. We will contact you again. Miss Hennessey.

ALWAYS REMEMBER THE COURT WILL BE WATCHING YOU.

THE COURT IS ALWAYS THERE.

THE COURT IS EVERYWHERE.

Molly felt quite alarmed about the sense that the elusive 'Court of Midnight ' was everywhere. But she, then considered that those words were designed to put her on edge.

It worked.

She picked up her phone. She thought to call her editor. Thinking again, she opened the WhatsApp and typed in a secret PIN and sent a text.

"Contact 8pm Marriott off A12" Molly pressed send. Her editor would open the message via the PIN and Molly put the phone down,

She stood up and went to sit at her dressing table.

"Are you really up for this?" She questioned her reflection.

Molly was an attractive, pixie cut brunette with a good figure. She was everything she needed to get ahead in the world of independent journalism; ambition, looks, a good intellect and a desire to prove herself.

Her father had always described her as having gumption. His death earlier that year had spurred Molly to get the story that would make her father proud. She had aced her qualifications as a prerequisite for writing as a journalist for the 'Metro-Online News Outlet Division'.

All Molly knew was that she was an independent journalist with no income unless she filed stories that were published. If they liked her stories or managed a a 'scoop' they would take her on full-time.

So only a scoop would do! Molly wanted to make her mark! Make a splash! as he father had put it. He'd been a foreign correspondent in the 70's and had covered some hot stories and still suffered from the shrapnel wound, he picked up in the deserts around the Golan heights.

Molly sat and focussed her attention on her make-up. She would go subtle and natural. Her soft brown eyes were highlighted carefully and she chose colours to accentuate her elfin features. She stood up and looked at herself. She threw off her terry cotton robe and looked at her body.

All her previous boyfriends had enjoyed her body and their sex life. Molly had perky 32C tits, with neat chocolate coloured areole. Her nipples rose to their erect state, like small, upturned noses. She liked her tits, she enjoyed how they felt when they had been stroked and played with. She would get wet quickly when they were licked and sucked. But most of all she enjoyed them being pulled and tweaked between fingers and thumbs. She often orgasmed quicker, when her lovers, who fucked her hard and pulled on her nipples.

She cast her eyes down to her toned stomach and her shaved bare pubis. She brushed her hand across her mound, trying to find any stubble or stray hairs. There were none. She smiled and brushed her puffy little labia. She liked her camel toe shape and would put on tight panties to show off herself tonight.

She would show the 'Court'- she had assets.

The Court was supposed to be a myth. Her editor had told her, her one, good, friend at the office had her and even her research had given not a single clue. But Molly had not given up. Micky, her erstwhile friend, and colleague had asked her out on date and had been shot down. Molly didn't want a boyfriend and told Micky just that.

"We can be friends" Molly had said to him over a beer at the local bar, near the office.

"Story of my life!" Micky moaned.

For two solid weeks, Molly had cajoled him into helping her to find out about 'The Court of Midnight'. A shadowy organisation that had links all over the world and were supposed to have criminal ties to trafficked women. Molly wanted this story, she had scoured the internet and picked up a trace here and there. But nothing definite.

Until, lock-down hit the UK.

Odd phrases and references had begun to appear on the net about women, formally trafficked, being moved around Europe and the World. She had to put this little obsession to one side and do it in her spare time. But she knew it would be gold.

The Court Is In Session.

Molly had been stumped at first. She had filed stories about excessive police fines during lock-down and had found out that households had been breaking the rules and holding illegal gatherings. She, then, found out about a 'informal' brothel had been operating in a stripped out bus. That had caught her editor's attention. He had called her after proof-reading her story.

"Molly, that was a pretty nifty story you've uploaded." The editor had really enjoyed the little details about the girl's lack of apparel.

Molly smiled and switched the phone to her other ear. She knew what he liked. Like a lot of men- it was all 'tits and arse' but it had got her noticed. She's had to work for it though. One of her informants at the local cop-shop had texted her and said that the 'word' was out that a coach was cruising between the two big towns.

With that snippet, she had texted around other independent reporters and was surprised to discover that they had heard rumours but nothing concrete. As luck would have it, she remembered a girl she had interviewed about the 'illegal' gatherings and managed to meet up with her.

Late Thursday night, tucked under a park gazebo, she had learned something on the 'Court'. A group who was setting up illegal, anti-lock down gatherings. The girl, Suzy had been recruited to be one of the 'entertainments'. Quizzically, she would be referred to as 'furniture'. She would be contacted and then be picked up by this roving sex shop.

Molly was now intrigued. What an unusual and obscure reference. 'Furniture'? It itched in the back of her brain.

Molly had convinced Suzy to give her the location and she would join her at the pick-up. She had only a day to prepare. She thought she could blag it and get on board and see what was going on. It had cost her eighty quid, she could ill-afford but thought it was a gamble worth taking.

Suzy was a slight blonde with a trim figure, and as slutty as you like, Before Lock-down she had a good income as an escort but Covid had shut her down and she's had to perform sex acts on herself online, but the money wasn't good enough and the internet was filled with virtual porn. Molly had written a small piece on online porn during Covid and had struck up a mutually beneficial relationship with her. She'd even got her divorced editor a date with her, to verify her as an informant, of course. Benny, her editor was very impressed with himself and Suzy.

Molly waited in the rain alongside Suzy in uncomfortable high-heeled shoes; lacy hold-ups, short skirt and a tight top. She had spiked up her pixie haircut and slapped on just enough make-up to look the part. Suzy was in a mood as she thought Molly looked just a bit too good. Molly reminded her that she wasn't going to be paid and still she cursed that every chap on the bus would want to fuck her.

Molly looked appropriately shocked but inwardly smiled and agreed. She was a good, if not a great fuck. However, Molly had a plan to get out of that bus. She wolfed down a handful of tablets. Suzy looked shocked.

"Are you into drugs then?" Suzy laughed" You take the morning after pill. Afterwards!" She chuckled.

Molly swallowed the last of the pills. "Don't be silly, they're my 'get-out-of-bus-free-card. They're antihistamines. "Suzy looked confused.

"The antihistamines are allergy pills, but they can raise your body temperature. So rather than having to suck off twenty guys tonight. I can complain of feeling hot and put on a cough. If they're as clever as I think they are, they'll dump me somewhere. I've got a mate in a car waiting. I'll phone him." Molly had convinced Micky to give up a night out to help her. At least, he would see Molly in slutty outfit.

Suzy nodded "And make out like you've got Covid!" Suzy looked impressed. "Then I can take over your place and make a bit of cash."

After nearly an hour, a brightly coloured local coach firm bus pulled up. The windows were all darkened with some sort of plastic film. The coach's air brakes hissed, and the middle doors slid open and the two women made their way to the door way. A thin faced man, in a dishevelled two-piece grey suit and black shirt, stood in the doorway.

"I was only expecting one pick-up. The Court said...." The man spoke with a harsh east London accent. He was pale and chewed gum and held a sheet of paper in his hand.

Molly, now renamed 'Cassie', ears pricked up at the word 'Court'

Suzy chimed in "I'm Suzy and this is Cassie- we're a double act. We go everywhere together," Suzy climbed up the stairs and grazed her hand passed grey suits groin. "I mean everywhere". Grey Suit pulled a electronic thermometer from his pocket and scanned both Suzy and Molly. He read each reading.

"You're a bit hot!" Grey Suit screwed up his face.

"You bet sweetheart! I'm red-hot!" Molly tapped grey suit's groin. Grey suit was convinced. Both girls climbed on. The coach pulled away.

The Pony Express

Molly was immediately assaulted by the violent movement of the speeding coach and the intense light show inside the coach body. She sat down on the nearest surface, expecting to find seats but was unnerved to find beds bolted to the cabin floor and the walls of the coach. Lines of 10 beds had replaced the coach seats except for two rows at the rear and front. The seats were immediately recognisable as the more out of date 'National Express' livery colours. Molly guessed that the coach had been a traded-down coaches and sold off privately. The lights were a collection of twinkle, Christmas style lights and blue neon style tubes and multi-coloured pod lights stuck to the cabin frame.

The whole cabin smelled of Febreze and had top notes of perfume and cheap spray deodorant. Molly looked around at the six other women in the coach, perched on either the beds or on the coach seats at the front. They all were pretty but possessed the hard edge of sex workers. Their clothes were revealing but of reasonable quality. They were also the 'furniture' Molly assumed.

Then it hit her, her dad loved sci-fi movies in the 70's, one of his favourite movie 'Soylent Green' was an over-crowded world where the elite had live in sex workers installed as part of their ownership of the apartments. They were called 'furniture' and were only be referred to by their first names. Someone knew their cinematic cult classics- clearly not Grey Suit. Someone with 'finesse'.

Molly looked around and saw Grey Suit talk to the driver. The coach started to slow down and then stop.

"Right, Ladies. Welcome to the Pony Express. Here for two nights only! I am Charles,just Charles"

Molly remembered the line from the movie - 'Just Charles'.

Charles continued "We will be stopping to pick up our guests in a moment so just to go over the rules. Each 'guest' has a red or a blue token. They won't pay you any money." Charles smiled" Just in case we get stopped by the coppers, we can avoid any legal issues for prostitution and such.

Molly looked around; the women had done this before as they didn't protest about the lack of cash payments.

"Reds are for beds" Charles smiled at his own joke. "Blues for the seats" Each Red is £400. Each Blue is £200. No extras- it's an 'all in' arrangement as before. If they want to fuck your arse, it's all inclusive, just like a holiday." Charles walked slowly down to the middle of the bus." You can give blow jobs and hand jobs in the seats."

Molly looked at Suzy. She nodded to her. That's what Molly would have to be if she wanted to stay on the bus." Molly had thought she might just get to slip away if the bus stopped but Charles chimed in.

"The coach will be on the move until the guests are all 'satisfied'" Charles continued.

One of the girls chirped up "Can they buy more red or blue chips?"

Charles turned "No love, no money. Once the chips are down. The fun's over. Hang on to your chips and that's your take home pay minus 10% for the accommodations. STANDARD RATE LADIES!" Charles smiled gleefully. "Finally, Big Terry, our driver, will ensure no-one gets too carried away." That's what the commission also covers". The women nodded. They would be safe.

Charles and Big Terry was going to pocket that she guessed. They clearly were not the brains behind this operation. The Court was real.

"Alright girls, select your beds and get busy." Charles walked down to the front of the bus, and it slowly pulled away to pick their 'guests'

Suzy started to undress and whispered to Molly "Go to the back and take your top off. 'Keep your skirt on though. You can give a blow-job and then complain about feeling ill. Tell them you feel hot and make it loud. Old Charlie here will shit himself and kick you out." Suzy finished pulling her skirt off and pulled off her leopard-print panties. She stowed her clothes away on the luggage rack above the bed after reaching for a small bottle of flavoured lube and a 12 pack of Durex condoms.

"Good luck" Suzy smiled and then quite matter-of-factly busied herself with applying a generous glob of lube to your arse hole and pussy. She rubbed the lubricant well into her holes, sniffed her hand and then wiped her hand on the fabric of the bed sheet.

Molly walked back to the rear seats and took off her jacket, shoulder purse and her top. She's not worn a bra and so was topless quickly, she stowed her belongs under her seat, within easy reach. She breathed out slowly, calming her nerves and awaited the arrival of the 'guests'.

Molly could see the not unattractive women preparing themselves. They stripped off their clothes, while quietly chatting to each other, their bodies were toned, some with natural breasts and one girl at the end had clearly opted for an enhanced look. Most of the women had well-trimmed pubic hair or completely shaved. They went about their preparations with a practised manner. Molly had to remind herself that sex, to them, was a business and easily surmised that these women were the escorts that men would book through web sites. All but one was Caucasian, spoke English as their own language and were not, it seemed to her, trafficked. Only the woman with the fake boobs was black. They were all someone's wife or girlfriend and daughter. Someone had selected these women and found a way to cater for a lack of available sex workers since Covid had prevented independent escorts to maintain a living. Men wouldn't have dared to seek out sex when Covid was a national issue. Lock-down would have ended a lot of opportunities for sex workers.

The 'Court' had scanned them all, they all had lube, condoms and water. There would be enough 'punters' to make some money. No excessive and violent behaviour or 'gang-bangs' forced on these women. Although Charles looked unsuitable to stop trouble, Molly had seen the driver. He looked very handy.

Charles took the opportunity to walk down through the spine of the coach looking and ogling the now, naked women laying on the beds and sitting on the front seats. He couldn't wait to look at Suzy and 'Cassie'. He looked disappointed that Cassie had taken the 'blow-job' seats.

"I thought you said, you two do everything together!" Charles leaned forward. He was an 'operator' and Molly worried that he was suspicious. Should she play the 'Covid' card now or not?

Suzy piped up "She'll get them so stiff; they'll want to finish in me!" Suzy put on a 'Barbara Windsor' style giggle. "That how we roll!"

Molly sighed quietly, bless her, Suzy was looking out for her. Chuckling, Charles wandered back up the coach.

"Alright ladies- it's rodeo time!" The coach stopped.

On the Pony Trail

Molly was no prude. She liked sex and was good at it and wasn't easily shocked but FUCK!

At least a dozen men, stepped up onto the coach, each one scanned by Charles, given the okay and then watched as they each took a position near a girl, that they fancied. Men, who came on afterwards simply waited for their turn.

Molly's heart was down cast! They all wear complete flesh-coloured face masks and matching grey sweatpants and plain grey hoodies. They even wore the same make of trainers. Molly now resigned herself to trying to identify the 'guests' by tattoos or distinguishing marks. She had to admit that the 'Court' had thought of everything.

Then it started to unravel.

One large well-built 'guest' made his way to the back of the coach and handed a blue chip to Molly. As 'Cassie' she was expected to pounce on the opportunity. Molly looked up and slowly took the blue chip and set it down. The guest started to untie the draw strings of his sweatpants and pulled out his cock. Molly was taken aback. The pink, richly veined cock was already semi-rigid and was quite large, even in this state. It was smooth and all pubic hair had been shaved off. The effect made the penis look even more imposing. The 'guest' gestured his cock towards 'Cassie' and was expected to perform straight away. The guest merely gestured again but didn't say anything. Clearly, the 'guests' were not used to having to encourage the 'ponies' on this rodeo.

Molly looked up and, for a split second, thought about using her Covid get out. Then something made her stop, she reached out and brought the tip of the penis to her lips.

'It's for the story' she thought to herself. 'My night in a stable of ponies'. She had started to think out the headline.

She opened her mouth, her wet tongue slipped out and began to swirl the tip of her tongue round the head of the cock. Fully rigid now, the purple head gave off a strong manly scent. Molly suddenly realised how little cock she had enjoyed in the last year. The job, Her dad then Covid.

Here now, was this stiff monster of a cock. Clean and well maintained. The pre-cum was musky but hinted at a sweetness.... it excited her.

'What the hell.' 'Cassie' took over. She slipped the cock into her mouth and swirled her tongue round the head and then flattened it to allow the cock to slide further in. The 'guest' didn't push or try to hold 'Cassie's' head and pull her onto his length. He let her do the work. Licking and sucking, while all around her the gasps and moans of the rodeo became suddenly very clear in Molly's mind.

Cassie gave way to Molly as she reached round to the 'guests' backside and pulled him inside her throat. She started to enjoy herself. The feeling of this huge cock filled her throat, her mouth was now well lubricated with her own saliva and 'the guest' was moaning, enjoying Molly's clever tongue and talented mouth. She pulled in and out in a steady rhythm. His cock was twitching, Molly cupped his scrotum and squeezed his testicles. Her cop boy-friend used to love her gently pulling his balls as she performed fellatio on him. She was the best cock sucker he had ever had. Molly's head bobbed with greater pace and felt the cock shiver and tense. He was close. She felt quite proud, that she hadn't lost her 'special' touch. She was about to pull him out and jerk him off on her tits.

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