Trapped Souls Ch. 04

Sandra reached for one of the knots that attached Troy's hand to the bed rail as she looked over at Carl for approval. He nodded as she slipped the cord from his wrist. She handed him one of the sandwiches as he took a hearty bite. "This is much better than that filthy basement; at least I can see you now." She spoke cheerfully. "They said we would be able to leave tomorrow."

Troy chewed his food as he spoke, "I can't wait to get away from this fucking place, I'm telling you, it gives me the creeps." He took another bite, "I need to ask you something baby, and I want you to be honest with me no matter what."

Sure baby, what's bothering you?"

"Have they been ... you know ... making you have; sex?" He whispered the last word.

Carl's ears perked up, this could get interesting. "No baby, they have treated me good, I've been tied up on the other side of the house, just like you." She wasn't really dishonest, just a little stretch of the truth, depending on how you looked at it.

Troy searched his memory again, trying to recall that very moment. He was looking at the shirt she was wearing, thinking about whose it was. Then she had pulled the bottle of water from between her thighs, and there it was, as the shirt lifted with the bottle of water, her mound, it was bare, it use to have little locks of black curly hair, but it was bald, why? Maybe it was so dark, his eyes betrayed him. The funny things he had seen down there, maybe it was just another hallucination. Maybe it was those drugs the strange men had put in his drink. He wasn't sure anymore, he didn't want to accuse her of anything, especially now, in this situation. She would hate him, think he was jealous. He didn't want that. He would have to find out some way, but he wasn't going to confront her.

"Ok baby, I was just worried about that." He took another bite from his sandwich and reached for the water. Sandra leaned over to grab the bottle from the night stand as Troy watched for the shirt to rise, or open slightly, that's all he needed.

"Here, I'll open it for you," Sandra twisted off the cap and handed the water to him. "That looks like it hurts." She said as she brusher her fingers across the bruise on his forehead.

Troy tried to refocus on the conversation, "I feel off the bed, in the camper, after they took you away."

"Oh baby, well it's not too bad, just a bruise."

Troy started on the second slices as he tried to find away to see under that damn shirt, he was busting to find out the truth. "Can we have some time alone?" He looked at Carl. He shook his head side to side.

No fucking way he was going to miss this. He seemed to be entertained as he watched Sandra act like nothing was going on. He knew damn well that her pussy and ass had semen seeping from them as she sat there, while she comically manipulated her husband.

"I think my mind is giving up on me." Troy spoke, not realizing it was vocally until it was too late.

"What baby, what do you mean by that?" She was puzzled at his words.

"Oh nothing baby, I just need some rest, I'm so tired." He said as he finished the last of the bread and meat and emptied the bottle of water.

Carl stood as a sign it was time to go. Sandra leaned over her husband and kissed him; she placed the rope around his wrist and tied it tightly as she stood. "Can you open the drapes honey? Will I get to see you again tonight?" Troy pleaded as she picked up the plate.

"Sure baby, I can open them for you." She ignored the last question as she reached up and pushed the curtains open as she fastened the straps on both sides. Troy watched her closely, looking for a mere glimpse of her mound; he searched between the buttons as she moved side to side, arranging the transparent material. He couldn't see anything, not even close. He sank into the bed, tormented by his own wife as she held her secret; at least for now.

Sandra followed Carl out of the room as he closed the door behind them. He took the plate from her and walked ahead of her to the stair case. When they reached the bottom, he felt something land over his shoulder. He turned to find his shirt draped over his right side as Sandra walked around him, naked again. He smiled to him self as he watched her well rounded ass shimmer in front of him, "What a slut," he thought, "She just couldn't wait."

She stopped in the kitchen and placed the ceramic dish on the counter as Carl placed his hand on her ass. "Still want that shower?" He asked as he rubbed her cheek.

"No ... it's getting late, we should go upstairs and get ready."

He followed her to her bed room, as she turned left toward her door, he turned right. "I guess its time to get a move on, see you at the party?" He said as she entered her doorway.

"By the looks of my dress, you'll be seeing most of me at the party." She smiled as she closed her door.

Sandra sat at the little desk as she cleaned off her face and reapplied her make-up. She pulled the brush through her long black hair and began French braiding the lengthy strands, starting at the top and working her way to the back as she took a small band with a little butterfly and twisted it several times around the short tail that remained. She touched up her eyes with the black eye liner as she stood and studied her self in the mirror. She retrieved her skimpy panties from the corner of the dresser and pulled them up her shapely tanned legs as she tugged them tightly into her crack. She pressed her hand firmly to her mound and pressed her fingers in her slit, tucking the see-through material into her gap, causing her pussy lips to separate. She pulled the transparent dress up her curvy figure as it slipped into place, connecting the two clasps on each side.

Sandra stood in front of the mirror as she examined the dress. The sides were open from the waist to the top as the two small brass clips held the thin material from falling. The bust was taunt; causing her nipples to nudge up against the delicate material. She could clearly see her breast through the transparent fabric. Her tiny panties framed her hips and pussy as the slender crotch barely covered her slit. She turned to observe the back as she swept her hands down her buttocks. The waistband of her panties was perfectly visible as a miniature string proceeded down between her cheeks and disappeared. The tightness of the dress stretched firmly to her skin, leaving her backside completely exposed.

Sandra smiled while she twisted and turned, as she admired herself in the mirror. She wondered how many men would be at the party, and what they might say when they noticed her in this dress. What would they do when she danced with them, a girl dressed like this would surely be groped and molested. She could feel their hands as they squeezed her ass and fondled her breast. She anticipated Tom wanting her to flirt with the men as she mingled ... let them flirt back; maybe even take her upstairs for some sexual fun. How many would she allow to have her? How many would Tom want her to satisfy? She visualized the house full of men, as they stared at her nearly naked body as she strolled through the crowd. This was going to be fun, her wildest fantasy come true. She would accept all of Tom's demands, even if he asked her to sleep with each and every man. Bruce would see then; just how much of a slut she could be.

Tom stood in the living room as the door chimes rang out. He was dressed as a butler. A black tuxedo incased his large frame with a tall black hat, the jacket had long tails as they swooped the air behind him while he leisurely walked to the door. Two men stood in the door frame as Tom opened the double doors. "Welcome, please ... enter at your own risk." He announced a deep lurking voice, as the two men walked in. Tom shook hands with the Taller of the two, "Dulani, how the hell are you. God, how long has it been?" Tom said as he slapped him on the back. Dulani was the first man to hire Tom as a gun runner, six years ago. He was a tall man like Tom, at six foot six inches. He was born in South Africa and moved to the states as a baby, his English being slightly broken, but very well pronounced. He had a very dark complexion, being an African American and carried a lot of respect and influence, as any man with his wealth should. He was dressed as a cowboy, with a red and blue flannel shirt and jeans. He wore traditional boots with chaps strapped around his waist. His belt buckle was the size of Texas and shimmered as the foyer lights danced across it. His diamond ear rings seemed a bit out of place, but as his signature, he had to wear them.

"Hello my old friend, it's been far too long, I hope you have been well." he spoke in a deep husky voice. "I wanted you to meet Tyrell," He placed his arm around the tall man to his side, "He has become my right hand man lately, so I thought this would be a good time to teach him the fine art of negotiating." He patted his friend on the back as he introduced him.

"We'll get to all that later, right now, lets get a drink from the bar and start this party!" Tom ushered them in as he shut the door.

Tyrell was a tall slim man, only two inches shorter than his boss. He was the student, learning from the master. He was also a black man, originating from the Bronx of New York. He grew up dealing drugs and prostitutes to support his single mom after his father died in a bar room fight. He was dress in a conservative outfit, a Dick Tracy of sorts. He wore a pinstripe suit, wing tipped shoes and a Gangster Fedora hat.

The two men walked into the living room as they approached the freestanding bar as music boomed loudly from the tall speakers placed in two corners of the room. Tom stood in the foyer as he gazed at the top of the stairs. "Where the fuck is that bitch, she has to be ready by now," he frowned as he thought to himself. He entered the living room as the chimes bellowed again. He quickly turned and walked back through the foyer.

Tom opened the door as he greeted the three men. "Welcome, please ... enter at your own risk."

"Hey Tom, it's good to see you again." Benny said as he out stretched a friendly hand as Tom took it and shook it hard.

"Benny, I thought you couldn't make it, word is, your getting hitched." Tom smiled as his long time friend and old time partner entered the house.

"I told that bitch to get fucked ... that money hungry slut!" he as he took a side step, "You remember Sam and Jamar; they purchased some items from you about a year ago." Benny said as the two men shook Tom's hand.

"I'm glad you could make it, any friend of Benny's, is a friend of mine." Tom smiled as the two large men dressed in black and white striped prison clothes walked past him. He remembered Jamar, a stocky black man with long braded hair and a small scar on the cleft of his chin, from a deal they had last year, but Sam, a tall man with light blond hair was a mystery, Tom seemed cautious. If Benny hadn't been with him, he might have handle the stranger differently.

"So ... where's your costume, looks like the same old suit you wore last time I saw you." Tom stopped Benny as he walked into the foyer.

"Hey, you know me, I an't putting no fucking dress on for nobody." The two men laughed as they walked under the arch leading to the living room.

Carl was standing at the bar dressed as a naval captain, a dressed white suit with a rainbow of colorful ribbons pined on his coat. He was pouring a drink as he talked with Jamar when Tom walked up. "Where is our little friend, have you seen her yet?"

"Not yet, I took her to her room about an hour ago. I can check on her if you want." He offered as he sipped his drink.

"How about Juan, has he come down yet?" Tom was slightly tense as he thought of the strange coincidence.

No ... do you think he is ... I wouldn't put it past her, I'll check for you." Carl excused himself and walked into the foyer.

"Hey there sailor boy, don't you look hansom." He heard a flirtatious voice rain from above him. He smiled as he looked up. Sandra was holding the railing as she strolled seductively down the stairs.

"Just look at you ..." Carl was speechless as he surveyed her delicate outfit, her body was flawless.

"I take it you approve?" She smiled and held her arms out to her side as she approached the tall sailor.

"Approve? I don't just approve, I want." He said as he put his arms out. Sandra walked into his embrace as they hugged tightly. "It's like I said before, one hell of a body!"

The door bell sounded as Tom hustled to the front door, as he entered the foyer; he stopped dead, looked at Sandra and leaned his head to one side. "Oh ... My ... God, you look remarkable. Wait right there, I'll be right back." He still eyed Sandra's mostly nude body as he walked to the front door, almost tripping on the Persian rug.

Sandra stood with Carl as Tom chatted with the four men at the door. Two of them, Marcus and Darnell, were very tall and very dark black men. They were dressed as rap singers with gold chains and baggy jeans. The other two men, Steve and Shawn, were dressed in hard rock costumes, much like Mick Jagger. When they entered the foyer, their eyes bulged as Sandra came into their view. She watched as they scanned her body, top to bottom.

Tom returned to Sandra, and asked Carl to mingle with the guest as he took her in his arms. "Are you ok with the dress?" He asked as he held her shoulders with both hands.

"Are you kidding," She stood back and opened her arms, "Just look at me, I love it." She smiled widely as her hazel green eyes sparkled in the light.

"So you might guess what I had in mind then." Tom looked down at her as she nodded her head.

"I have a pretty good idea ... but why don't you tell me just so I'm sure." She spoke low, almost in a whisper.

"I want you to be the hostess of this party, but not just any hostess. You have been a real champ so far, I'm not too sure ... why, but ..." He looked in her eyes as he continued, "These men are clients of mine, and I would like for you to mingle with them, talk to them, and dance with them. They might get a little fresh, and with you dressed like that, I'm counting on it. Tell me now; it's completely up to you, do you think you can do this"

Sandra felt the heat build between her legs as she thought about what he just said. This was her moment of truth, "What would you do if I said I couldn't?"

"Well ..." his heart beat doubled its pace as he pondered the thought of her refusing. "If you don't think you can do it; then I won't force you. I'll just tie you in your bed and leave it at that. I'm not sure how these men would feel about rape, so you can feel safe that nothing will happen unless you say yes."

"What if they ask me to ..." she leaned up to his ear and whispered softly, "fuck me?"

"Then you can say no ... or yes, it's up to you baby." He hugged her as he stroked her tush.

"Then I say ... why the hell not, it's not everyday a girl can dress like this and act like that ... is it?" She kissed him on the neck as she felt the warm moisture build between her legs.

Tom smiled as he escorted her into the living room, "Everyone, excuse me ... can I get everyone to listen." Tom announced loudly as the room all turned and faced him ... and Sandra. "This little lady is Sandra, she is our hostess for the night, please ... at some point tonight, introduce yourself to her, I'm sure she won't be shy." He leaned down and kissed her as she opened her mouth and accepted his tongue as every man watched. He took her right breast in his hand and squeezed it as he gave her a deep kiss.

When Tom released Sandra, Carl resumed his place as he took her in his arms. "I'm not sure, but that looked like a fascinating invitation to me." He leaned down and kissed her as he held her ass in his hands and pulled her to him.

Tom strolled through the small walkway that led into the foyer. He stared up to the second level landing in bewilderment, "Where in the fuck are those two?" he sensed a slight rave build inside him. He glanced down at the time piece on his wrist, "They knew I needed them here to greet the clients." Tom quickly ascended the stairs and scampered down the hall to Juan's room. He knocked on the door with heavy raps as he waited for a sign of Juan's presents. After a brief moment he opened the unlatched door. The room was empty. Tom shook his head in confusion. "I didn't see him downstairs, where the fuck is he?" Tom opened the door to Bruce's room as he concluded it was empty too.

Carl entered the foyer as his brother descended the stairs as there eyes met, he knew Tom was aggravated over something. "You loose something?" He asked as they gathered at the bottom of the steps.

"Where the hell is Juan ... and Bruce seems to be missing too." He stammered as he spoke. "Take a look around; let me know if you see them, I'll stay with the clients." He demanded as they agreed on the action.