The Ballad of Verdene Molloy Ch. 03

She looked up abruptly and came back to where he was standing.

"I didn't use to look like this," she said. "I used to look, like, normal hot, y'know?"

This got a laugh. Even the obnoxious guy smiled.

"Thank you, sir," she said to him. "I can show you, if you like."

He stared at her for a moment. They stared at each other.

"Yeah, sure," he said.

Verde had stashed her old driving licence in her back pocket of her shorts. She pulled it out and handed it to him, without looking at it. It had a picture of the old Verde, from a year ago. Red-haired and honey-skinned, impishly smiling, gorgeous.

He took it and looked at it. A camera droid came down and hovered over his shoulder and zoomed in. The picture appeared on the big screens in the bar. Her old self. Smiling innocently at the camera. Such a lie! She'd just earned a big chunk of change when she'd had that taken, from getting a pious rube to empty his bank account because he'd believed that she was an impoverished but inspired prophet from Rubitel 6 who just needed funding to spread her gospel.

The crowd aaahed. As she knew they would.

"Yeah," she said. "That was me. I know if I were here now, looking like I looked then, you'd be lining up to watch me get fucked. Cause I was normal hot, back then. But what I'm telling you now is - now, I'm a freak. I'm the same person, except I'm not, cause I know that I look like this. And I'm not gonna pretend that this is a great look."

She stuck the mic in its stand and pulled her hoodie off. Under it, she had only a bra on. Her tattoos were strobing, weakly. She knew people were starting to look at her, and starting to feel strangely compelled. She took the mic off the stand and sauntered back to the lip of the stage again.

"Yeah, I'm bald," she said. "I'm albino. I have one good eye, and that looks weird, and one plastic eye that doesn't look real. I used to think these things are ugly. But I can't think that now. If I did, I'd think I'm ugly."

She looked past him and looked at the crowd.

"And, I dunno," she said, feeling the confidence building in her, "should people really have to go through life thinking that they're ugly. Even if they are? Don't we all have the right to think we're beautiful?"

She looked down at the guy. He was staring up at her, in something like fascination. He probably had a better view of the tattoos than anyone else. She felt bad, because it was a trick, but there was no turning back now.

"So I know I'm a fucking freak," she said. "I know some people would say I'm a fucking ugly bitch. And maybe I am. But what I'm saying is this."

She stopped walking and looked at the crowd, fixing them with every ounce of experience that had gone into her twenty-odd years of getting people to want to do what she wanted them to do.

"You gotta spread the love," she murmured into the mic. "Cause this is a cold universe. It's cold, out there, we all know that. And there is not. Enough. Love."

She watched them watching her. She had them.

"We all know this," she said softly. "We've all had shitty days. Sometimes we have shitty years. I've been having one, I mean, that's pretty obvious about me. Are you having a shitty day, sir?"

The guy looked up at her and shook his head slowly.

"Wasn't it just a little bit shitty?" she said. "Somebody did something to you earlier, that pissed you off, and that's why you were pissed with me? Isn't that why you called me a fuckin' ugly bitch?"

He looked uncomfortable. She waited, for a long time. The crowd was silent, hanging on her words. She saw that, whatever it was, he wasn't going to own up to it.

She grinned, to show him she was joking.

"Or is it simpler than that?" she drawled. "Did you call me that cause you're just a fuckin' asshole?"

She pointed the mic at him, smiling, and he grinned, looking ashamed but not displeased.

"Yeah," he said. This got a laugh. They were with her.

"Okay, so you're just a fuckin' asshole," she said, smiling. "And that's probably not your fault, though, right? Or maybe it is. But either way, you did what you did, and now you're sorry, right?"

She pointed the mic at him again and he said "Yeah."

She took the mic back and said "What's that?" But smiling, to make him feel at ease. She pointed it at him again.

"I am sorry," he said. There were cheers, mostly from the women.

"Good," she said. "I'm glad to hear it. It's good of you to say that. Cause like I said, there's not enough love to go around. And you know what? That's why . . . I forgive you."

The men laughed at this and some of the women shouted.

"Fuck him!"

"He's an asshole!"

"No, no, come on," Verde said. "Okay. Some people say it's not for people to forgive people. That only the gods can do that. Or god. I forget which. I say, that's bullshit. If we aren't good to each other then what's the fucking point, you know? Fuck whether we deserve it or not. Fuck whether this guy is an asshole or isn't an asshole. That doesn't matter. What matters is what we do next. Not what happened to us."

She looked at the crowd, and focused on the guy, who was staring at her now with a big smile on his face.

"Okay, sir," she said. "That's why I forgive you for calling me a fuckin' ugly bitch. Even if I were one, it's not nice to say. Cause it's cold out there. And there's not enough love. But I don't want to make it colder."

She paused, and scanned the crowd, and raised the mic to her lips.

"Cause, you know," she said, almost meekly, "from time to time, everyone deserves to get their brains fucked out. Even a fucking freak."

There were cheers at this. She looked down at the mark and smiled directly at him. The cheers got louder.

"Even," she yelled, "a fuckin' asshole!"

He laughed. She looked up again.

"Am I right?" she shouted.

The crowd went crazy. Verde smiled at them, and tossed the mic over her shoulder to the MC, who she knew would catch it. He did.

Abruptly, the mark drained his beer, put his glass down and clambered up on stage. The security started to come forward, but Verde motioned them back, staring up at him.

"Yeah?" she said uncertainly.

He looked down at her. Then he grabbed her, and she made a little squeak of surprise as he kissed her on the mouth.

There was a mighty cheer. Verde was tense as the mark worked his tongue inside her mouth, then she relaxed. She had got them.

"All RIIIIGHT!" shouted the MC. "Caffy LATTAYYYYY! The Calico Lounge Philo-so-phuh QUEEN! Who's ready to teach her somethin' else?"

The security guys came on, politely detached the guy, who stood there staring at her, and as she stood staring back at him, smiling, they tied her arms behind her back and took off her bra. Then she was forced down on her knees, and the guy was sticking his cock into her mouth.

Normally, Verde was not someone who liked to give blowjobs but she shut her eyes and moaned as the guy forced his entire cock into her mouth. It made her drool. She gagged but the humiliation was arousing, and she forced herself to take him. The crowd gathered around her, seeing the elusive words flicker across her body, watching her kneel and groan, her face red, drool stringing from her mouth, her eyes tight shut as she let him fuck her face.

Then she was made to stand and her shorts were ripped off, and her tights and panties pulled down at the front. Somebody blindfolded her. Verde gasped as she felt fingers slipping into her, penetrating her. Then her panties were pulled down further and a slippery cock was entering her, and she gasped "AAAAAHHH!" as the first one began to fuck her. Her tattoos were glowing dark silver. The first orgasm made her tremble and squeal.

After that it was got harder to keep track of what was going on. She counted at least five guys fucking her before a woman's hand started to press at her pussy, and she was laid down on a pool table and finally stripped naked, as the woman put her entire hand inside Verde's cunt.

She had never been fisted before, and squirmed deliriously, impaled on the girl's arm, sensation pumping through her. All the while, her vocal moaning seemed to inflame the crowd more and her mouth was filled by another cock. She sucked on it, drooling and gagging, until its owner came, the cum filling her mouth and dribbling out. She didn't swallow but she couldn't help some of it trickling down her throat.

Give in, her body counselled her. Just go with it. Verde had little resistance left and she submerged herself in the flood of physical sensation, letting her conscious mind take a break. This was reality now. Being used by a gang of complete strangers. All of whom knew she was an intelligent, articulate young woman, and who didn't care, because when they looked at her, all they saw was a nubile body to fuck.

Letting herself forget about it made it easier to just go with it, just be a piece of meat, just endlessly willing and receptive.

But then she surfaced, finding herself still blindfolded, being turned over with the woman's fist inside her, so that for the first time the crowd got a good look on the tattoo urging them to fuck her arse. She felt lube being applied and, as a third cock filled her mouth, she felt another one parting her round, naked ass cheeks.

She was being held tight by several men, but she still howled, muffled by the cock in her mouth. It did her no good. She felt him go in and howled again. The pleasure and the humiliation hit her together. Gods, it was too much, to be fucked in all holes at once. Her body strained and she was dripping sweat.

I fucking can't believe they are doing this to me, she thought. She moaned repeatedly as the guy in her ass pumped her, seeing how aroused she was, twitching his cock inside her anus, teasing her, making her whimper with lust, before the sight of her beneath him with his cock buried in her ass up to the hilt clearly made him lose control and he heaved his entire length in and out of her, making her scream, before he came in her ass.

Then cum filled her ass, and the fist slid out of her, and she was dragged to the floor and her blindfold was pulled off, and more men were picking her up and she gasped and cursed as cocks entered her; her mouth, her pussy, her ass, all filled, her body twisted and yanked in all directions, an arm around her throat, hands on her legs. Her naked body shook. It was harder work than she had ever done, even as she responded helplessly to the gang-fuck, cumming and moaning to the crowd's cheers. Each cock that slid out of her was replaced by a new one, a more vigorous man, fucking her into a limp, wet rag of flesh and bone.

Each time the crowd got tired of fucking her in one position they would put her on the floor and reconfigure her, and she would stare up at them with bloodshot defiance, panting, before they picked her up and put her on all fours, or flung her on her back, or held her upright and penetrated her in several places at once. Each time, she never pretended that she was simply enjoying it, and each time, they seemed to appreciate her honest reaction of helpless lust tempered by genuine reluctance.

It seemed to last hours, but it was only about ninety minutes. After eighty minutes, her pussy and anus were aching and she could barely stand. But then she was knelt on the floor, and she saw the men lining up. This was the finale.

A queue of them were lining up to jerk off in her face. She stayed obediently still, and tried her best to keep her eyes open and smile and look receptive. Thankfully, they were quick. But it was faceful after faceful of cum.

She knelt, gasping and moaning, abject, as the remaining men jerked off in her face, until she was covered in it, a thick salty mask of it dripping from her nose and chin and spilling down over her chest. More was poured into her mouth from some kind of cup, and she let it run out. Finally, she was pulled to her feet and held up as someone took her hips and sodomised her one final time, her cum-covered face hanging, her eyes swollen and stinging, her mouth hanging open as she moaned thickly until the guy came in her, to the cheers and applause of the crowd, and almost as soon as it was finished she was dumped on the floor.

She lay there, naked, bound, exhausted and filthy, and dimly heard the MC thank the crowd. Then, after much blinking, she managed to open her eyes enough to see a Security guy come over to her.

"I suppose you want to fuck me too?" she managed to say.

"No," he said. "You're a bald albino with one eye and a load of ugly tats. I wouldn't fuck you if we were the last people on the planet."

"That," she gasped, as he lifted her off the floor and slung her over his shoulder, "is the nicest thing anyone's said to me all day."

He carried Verde out of the bar and let her down on the floor of the shower, untying her.

"Fuck," she gasped, flexing her wrists. "Fuck. Fuck. I can't believe I did that."

"You okay to clean off?" he said, looking down at her.

"I guess," she said, wiping the cum off her face. The security guy walked over to the exit, then turned. Verde staggered to her shaky legs.

"You did awright," he said. She looked up in surprise. The security guy was looking at her, and he seemed about to say something else, but after a pause he just nodded, and left.

She turned on the water and, despite the lingering, burning humiliation of what she'd just been put through, and the oh-god-I-can't-believe-it awareness that people would be watching video of it within hours, she couldn't help feeling proud.

***

An hour later, tired but clean, with antiseptic cream applied to her bruised crotch and the scratches on her back, dressed in her anonymous street clothes and with a woollen hat pulled down low on her brow to cover up the hateful slogan tattooed on it, Verde made her way discreetly through the crowd.

She walked slowly because of the lingering ache in her pussy and ass. Well, yes; it was clearly going to take a while to get accustomed to being a porn star. Luckily, this was the slack time between the evening revellers and the real late night ones. Verde knew that although she had taken a beating, it wasn't much compared to what happened to some of the real star girls in the small hours. But she was still exhausted. The world seemed drained of colour because of the way her artificial eye, which was powered by her own nervous system, was temporarily in monochrome.

She went straight to the kitchen, and to her relief she didn't have to ask anyone for help because Morey was just inside the door, washing up.

She looked up as Verde sidled in, and blew a lock of hair out of her face.

"Hey," Morey said, smiling tiredly. "Heard it went good."

"I think so," said Verde. "Got plenty of people."

"Not like inside, I guess."

"No," said Verde. "Hard work. But less fucking horrible."

"There's some daube there from lunch," said Morey. "I'm supposed to blitz it into soup, but help yourself."

"Thanks," said Verde. Food service had ended earlier, and the kitchen was nearly empty except for washers-up and a few cooks converting today's leftovers into tomorrow's specials. Verde grabbed a bowl and filled it with the still-warm daube, which to her ravenous senses looked and smelled amazing.

She sat on a stool and ate while Morey finished washing pots and pans and put them away. Then another cook came over with two cold beers and put them down.

"Heard you did good, Questions," he said to Verde and winked at her. Then he walked off. Verde chugged some beer; it left a clean cold burn down her throat.

"Oh, gods," she gasped as she put it down. "That's good."

"They're all right in here," said Morey. "Not like some places I've worked."

"I've never worked in a place like this before," said Verde.

"What did you do before?" said Morey, lifting a huge crockpot and dumping dirty water out of it into a sink.

"Career criminal," said Verde, spooning daube into her mouth.

Morey laughed. "Seriously," she said, "what?"

"Career criminal," said Verde, chewing. "I was a grifter. Technically I still am a grifter."

"Bullshit. You don't just tell people that you're a grifter," said Morey.

"I'm not grifting you," said Verde. "I'm telling you cause you've been really nice to me. And I'm re-assessing some of my life choices, cause lately I've been making pretty bad ones. Thinking maybe I need to do something other than grifting."

"You used to con people?" said Morey.

"Yeah," Verde admitted. "I'm pretty good at it."

"What sort of con?"

"Are you in the game?" said Verde, glancing at her as she scooped the last bits of gravy out of her bowl.

"Not really, but I've known some people who are."

"Long cons mostly. I've had various partners, most of them shmoes. I used to play the Runaway Transport out of Buffett City; that was pretty lucrative until the Czechs got to hear about it. I've done the Golden Hat a few times, that's always fun. Lately I was mostly doing short stuff because it's been getting very law-and-order-y around these parts."

"It always does, around election time," said Morey. She looked Verde up and down. "So then you got caught and sent down and you pissed off a Draco enough to do that to you."

"Yeah," said Verde, wiping the bowl with a bit of bread and munching it. "I've had some lucky friends lately."

"I think it's kinda cute," said Morey.

Verde looked up at her.

"Really?"

"Yeah," said Morey, "looking sidelong at her through a stray lock of her dark hair. "If I weren't drop-down-dead exhausted, I'd do you."

"I don't think I could do anyone else tonight," said Verde, smiling wearily. "Tell the truth, I think I'm okay for being fucked for the next couple of years."

"Always feels like that at the start," said Morey, grinning. "Then the more you do it, the more you want it. And then eventually, sure, you plateau. But if you want to come home and just share a bed, you're welcome to."

"Sleepover," said Verde, grinning. "Yay!" She yawned hugely.

***

Verde awoke next morning to find herself in Morey's bed in borrowed t-shirt and shorts. She'd explained to Morey about the tattoos, in the brief interval between returning home and falling into bed together, and Morey had understood and let Verde change in the tiny bathroom cubicle. Verde had emerged in the too-large shirt and shorts, a giant sticking plaster on her forehead so that only the faint letters R E were visible, to find Morey sound asleep in her panties on the bed. Verde got in next to her, pulled the covers over them both and was asleep within seconds of her head hitting the pillow.

She dreamed of being submerged in a sweaty world of straining flesh, fluids, muscle interpenetrating her body, her flesh being occupied and moulded and shoved and pumped while she made vague and incoherent muffled moans.

She woke up to the smell of frying, and getting up she turned around to see Morey standing at the little stove cooking things. She wore only a man's shirt and her panties. Her thick mane of hair was tousled.

"Morning," Morey said. "Hope you slept well."

"Embarrassing dreams," Verde murmured, running a hand over her smooth scalp. She sniffed, and looked around for a tissue to blow her nose. Having no body hair came with disadvantages; her nose was almost perpetually running, except in very hot weather. Morey handed her a roll of kitchen paper.

"I'm making mushrooms," said Morey. "Hope you like 'em."

"I love 'em," said Verde, blowing her nose. "You're sweet for letting me stay."

"It wasn't entirely altruistic," said Morey, "although altruistic behaviour can benefit the species as well. I also wanted to do this."