Whatever It Takes Pt. 08

They revived Jimmy, and all three began to dress. For the second time, I pulled the dildo out of me and threw it on the floor. Then I sat naked on the edge of the bed and reminded them, "You had your fun. Now forget you ever saw this place or me!"

"No sweat!" Frank said. Jimmy contributed "whatever" while Curt added, "We are out of here." I had no choice but to trust that they would keep their mouths shut for their sake and mine.

But then Jimmy turned and with the grin of a child with a secret said, "You're famous on the Internet, you know."

"Shut up!" came from Frank.

"Famous?" was what I said.

Dodging the back of Frank's hand, Jimmy continued, "We put your pictures on the beach up on voyeurweb.com – "Big Boobs on the Beach.' Votes come in from all over the world. If your tits win, we get $500."

"You little shitheads."

"Hey, bitch. You ought to pay us for making you famous. Increased demand for your pussy means more revenue. Hell, you might make Hustler or get picked to star in a porn movie, "said Curt. Waving the camera, he continued, "Now we have the photos to enter in the explicit section...Jimmy cumming on your face should be a winner."

I was half way across the room, psyched to kill but naked and weaponless. In a flurry of arms and legs, they slammed the door in my face. I heard them laughing all the way down the hall. The comments about the Internet rang true. It was a downstream problem for me. All I could hope is that no one who knew me personally would frequent the kind of web sites upon which these mindless morons would post the pictures.

It was now after nine-o-clock at night. I was incredibly tired and needed a nap. I did not care that the room and the bed reeked of sex, the whole place was permanently marked by the odor of not just me but all who had gone before me, fucking for money or for fear, all the same bodily fluids resulted. I grabbed a diaphanous robe from the closet and just lay down in the cum-covered sheets. As I went to sleep, my last thought was that my usual expense account-financed suite – not room – was at four or five star hotel at $800 a night or better. How low can you go I wondered?

After a half hour nap, I began to stir, the smell of cum still all around me. There was a loud knock, and Randy came rushing in, ignoring my near nakedness, he got me up.

"Let's go. The boss has a special treat for you. Tonight you will the opportunity to meet...and fuck... some of the island's foremost businessmen." He laughed when he said that so I was curious as to exactly who we were to meet and for whom we would be spreading our legs tonight.

He did not let me get dressed but grabbed my arm and escorted me into the hallway. We almost knocked over one of the 'the girls' and her john who were doing final negotiations in front of her door. The customer's eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw my nipples and almost-hairless crotch through the robe.

"Where are we going? What's the hurry?" My arm hurt where he held it like a vice above the elbow.

Extremely confused and disoriented by being abruptly awakened, I dragged along behind him to Patrick's office, as if I was a dog obeying a master. Shelley and Danelle were there already, with more clothes on than I, but looking just as confused. The room was large and not at all cramped with all of us in it. In facy, the office had an opulent feel, more like the office of a business executive than the cubicle of a whoremaster. This was just more evidence that Patrick had other criminal activities and connections than just running a whore house.

Patrick didn't even bother to look us over. It was like three attractive semi-clad women were not even a distraction. He was all business.

"There is a charity event tonight that is very important to this island's business community and the lower income people who receive the largesse of this fund raiser. We get no funds from the auctions. We do get free advertising and improved community relationships"

I thought bit did not say that the photos taken by hidden cameras of island notables having sex with white whores would be good things to have in the office safe in case some of the prominent gentlemen decide it would be advantageous with the voters to clean up the community a little by eliminating whore houses and such. I was convinced that Patrick was not the magnanimous community leader that he was making himself out to be..

"The men – and by the way it is only men that attend – are organized into 'krewes', just like in New Orleans. We have four krewes, Rex – the one I am in and be best of course – Zulu, Pegasus, and Saturn – this last for young men just starting out in business. The fund raising is based on a live auction, set up like the colonial slave auctions that the British held on Jamaica in the early 18^th century. The only difference is that we reverse the color scheme, instead of white masters and black slaves we now have black masters and white slaves, all of whom of course are women. This night you three can consider yourself partial reparations for all the suffering the whites have cause people of color."

I was trying to focus on his words. The alcohol and sex all day plus being startled out of a deep sleep made thinking like walking through cotton candy. It was all pink and white and no substance. But when I heard Danelle say, "Oh shit!" I knew it was bad whatever 'it' was.

Patrick continued. "I provide the whores but do not collect a dime. It all goes to charity. What is in it for you is that, contingent on the quality of your performance, you will receive a generous credit for tonight's work. We expect 50 or 60 of the most prestigious businessmen to show up. Most will participate in the 'festivities.' Some will only watch but still contribute for the privilege of doing so." As if we were stupid, he added, "Obviously, you three will be the center of attention. You are white, attractive, and coerced – every man's fantasy."

Then I got it – they were going to raffle off the three of us to a room full of men organized as krewes, whatever they were.

I blurted out, "No fucking way!" with a confidence that was not warranted. "You can't auction us off like cattle!"

"I can and I will. I sell your bodies and your time here, and I will there just as easily. Furthermore, you will not cause any problems, and you will fuck your little brains out in the interest of charity and self-preservation. I am sure that you will cooperate and stay on script. If you try anything else, then Animal will be requested by me to inflict pain in proportion to your off script behavior. As you all know, Animal is psychopath who lacks any sense of empathy for his fellow human beings. You are all close to getting out of here and going home to your lives in the real world. This is not the time to embarrass or offend us.

He turned to Randy and ordered him to "bring Animal in." Randy opened the door to Animal who must have been in the hall waiting to be summoned.

Once Animal was in the room, he accented Patrick's message by snapping open a switchblade knife and holding it at his side, an action that was even more menacing than if he waved it around in the air. He looked mean enough and ready enough to cut us without even thinking about it. I felt my knees shake, bile rose in my throat, and I was hard pressed not to piss in fear right on the floor in front of everyone. If anything, Danelle and Shelley looked worse than I thought I did.

Patrick saw and smelled our fear. We could see he was pleased by it. His black eyes scanned us slowly, letting it sink in that he could do anything he wanted to us. We were powerless and without any dignity left. It was obvious that made him feel good.

He sounded almost reasonable as he continued. "Look, this is a business. You are the inventory. We sell you to maximize revenue and inventory turnover." He sounded professorial, as if this were a lecture room at Wharton. "Tonight you have an opportunity to meet multiple objectives. The credit is $2,500 each! Shelley that guarantees that you go home tomorrow. Elaine, given a $2,500 credit tonight, you have a shot at also getting out of here Friday noon. Finally, Danelle, I'm a good guy, do a good job tonight, and we'll knock a week off your time here – for good behavior so to speak." Animal then left the group, hopefully never more to be seen over the course of this evening.

Patrick was vicious, maybe insane, but not dumb. Again he had presented to us the perfect mix of positive incentives and potential pain, all designed to ensure that we would willingly participate in our own rapes. None of us said anything. We did not have to – the outcome was predetermined and Patrick knew it. Randy laughed, Animal grunted, and Patrick looked pleased with himself.

Cold-bloodedly, I considered the $2,500 credit – that equated to sex with 18 to 20 men at an average earned credit of approximately $150 each. That meant if I could earn the credit by fucking less than 18 men then I would come out ahead.

Randy led us to a room next store to the office. It was larger and had some tables on which were laid out our 'costumes.' Each consisted of six items. Four were leather cuffs. I picked one up and felt the softness of the leather and noticed that it, like the others, had a steel ring embedded in it. It dawned on me that these were wrist and ankle restraints.

"Go on, Miss Pure, put them on." I jumped and saw Jessie staring at me from the door of the room. Her face reflected pure hatred. Our fight this afternoon had made me an enemy for life.

She walked towards me. I tensed but sensed that Randy and Animal would not allow trouble here.

"Get naked," she said. I dropped the robe – it was so transparent that it was useless for concealment anyway – and stood there naked in front of the two men and the three women. Jessie put a cuff on each wrist. They snapped in place like handcuffs, and I realized that I would need a key to unlock them. She got down on her haunches and did the same with the leg cuffs. Instead of getting back up, she stayed there on her haunches, looked at my crotch, and said to me, "Looks like it always did, doesn't it? How many pricks been and out of it in the last 24 hours? You can't tell the difference. I told you, Miss Pure, you and I are more alike than you think."

She then got up and picked up another piece of the costume from the table. It was a leather thong that fastened with Velcro on the right side. She told me to spread my legs, ran the thong under my crotch, and fastened it quickly. Now I had a thin strip of leather in the crack of my ass and a small V of leather covering my crotch. The Velcro made the thong a quick release garment...pull on the Velcro and I would be naked from the waist down.

The final costume piece was the largest of all. It had a neck collar studded with metal studs. From the collar leather straps came down at an angle in the front. Thin metal chains went from on strap to the other. Jessie went behind me, draped the leather-chain combination down my front, clicked the collar in place, and then fastened the two straps together behind my back. As Jessie checked the fit, she whispered quietly in my ear. "I will be there tonight to see you with a dick up your ass, another down your throat, and ten guys in line just waiting for one of your holes to free up so they could stick in their big, black cock." She stepped in front of me, looked into my eyes, and smiled. I made a mental note to hurt her badly as soon as I got the chance.

My large breasts poked out between the chains in front. They provided no support and did not obstruct the view. The cuffs and collar were lined with satin and did not chafe. The only time I had ever seen anything like it was in the window of a London shop in Soho called 'Dream Dressers' which I passed with a Citibank group after the theater when we went looking for a cab in the wrong direction. I remembered how the men in our group kidded. One of them said, "It would take a real slut to wear something like that. What pervert would buy it?" Now I was wearing something almost identical. I was 'the slut' to which he had referred. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of going from negotiating half billion dollar deals for the bank to being led around by the collar for men's amusement. However, I had no choice but to play gang bang slut for the night in order to leave here and reclaim my life.

Jessie assisted Shelley and Danelle to dress in identical costumes. Shelley's breasts protruded through the chain mail, just as mine did. Danelle had smaller breasts so hers actually were hidden. Randy and Animal watched with a mix of contempt and lust on their faces. We looked like a 14 year old boys' most erotic fantasy. The illusion was complete when Jessie opened a closet and told us to pick out a pair of high heel shoes – all had spike heels and made walking difficult as you had to lean back to keep our balance which accentuated our breasts as we moved.

Once we were outfitted, Patrick looked us over like we were cattle going to auction, which in many ways we were. "One more thing," he said and nodded to Jessie. She left the room and returned with a tray on which appeared to be three strawberry daiquiris. She handed one to each of us.

"The night will go easier for all of us, if you drink these. They contain an adult dose of cherry-flavored midazolam, brand name versed." I remembered that was the same drug Michael used on me. Patrick continued as if he were a TV commercial. "The drug's effect is to calm anxiety, relax muscles, and block the memory of unpleasant experiences. But Versed does knock out a user but enables the use to follow simple commands."

Simple commands, I thought, like 'fuck harder,' 'swallow,' and 'lick my balls.' I knew the drug would make the night go faster and the morning after better. I also knew that if stressed I could do something stupid that could put me crosswise with Patrick and make me a candidate to be sliced and diced by Animal. On the other hand, this drug was medical grade, and Patrick and friends were not doctors. Therefore, chugging this cocktail might just kill me. Of course, not taking it also might get me killed.

Patrick solved my problem by directing the three of us into a bathroom to freshen up and put on new makeup. Once in there, I warned Danelle and Shelley about drinking something about which we knew nothing. I suggested we drink only about a third so we would have a buzz but not be totally stoned or at risk from a badly mixed cocktail courtesy of Jessie who did not like us at all. Not all paranoid people are wrong. The other two followed my lead, drank one third and flushed the rest. We did our makeup do-overs quickly and headed for the limo with Randy and Patrick.

The limo was looked like the same one that I had ridden in before. Before we entered, Randy asked the three of us to face the car and put our hands behind our backs. He walked behind me, and I heard a two clicks. Then I realized that he had attached the rings on my wrist cuffs to each other. My hands were locked behind my back. He did the same to Shelley and Danelle.

"Don't do this," I said referring to the binding of our wrists.

"Got to play the part," Patrick said. "You're lucky. Our colonial masters used chains – lot more pain that way."

Randy and Patrick hustled us into the big interior of the limo. The three women sat as best we could with our arms behind us which forced us forward on the seat with our tits hanging out, legs spread to brace ourselves. Randy and Patrick rode on the back seat while we were sitting facing them with our back to the driver.

Then we settled in for what I hoped was to be a long ride. The three of us tried to avoid making eye contact with the men, but Randy called to me.

"Elaine, you have been doing a lot of talking recently. I consider this a teachable moment so that you will learn for what a woman's mouth is best used. Get on your knees and get over here." Patrick just smiled that vacant, vicious smile of his.

I started to protest but knew it was futile. Like the obedient animal I was becoming, I slide to my knees and crossed over to him, making progress slowly in the rolling car with my hands bound behind me. By the time I got to him, he had opened his fly and pulled out his prick.

"Be a good whore. Suck me and swallow."

I leaned over him, his dick in my face.

I turned to look up at Patrick when I heard him say, "Elaine, just a mere three days ago did you ever think you would be giving a blow job to man whom you just met. Life can take some strange twists, can't it?"

He stared in to my eyes then reached out to pat my head. It was the kind of gesture you make to a pet, but then I felt his hand on the back of my head, pushing my face into Randy's crotch. "Do your job, Elaine. Like they taught you at Wharton, do whatever it takes to please the customer."

Randy said, "Put it in your mouth." I knew that after, he came he would calm down a little. All I wanted at this point was to get through the night. Still, I hesitated, and he pulled my hair and shouted at me, "Now! And remember to show me before you swallow."

I put my tongue underneath the crown of his cock and slowly moved my tongue down his prick. I felt him shiver at the touch of my tongue on his turgid flesh. I went all the way down to his balls and gave them a tongue bath as well. When the car lurched, I ended up with most of his balls in my mouth. He sighed audibly.

I noticed his smell. He was the first many I had encountered who washed thoroughly down there. He actually smelled of lilacs not the usual stale mixture of old cum and piss.

"Lick it all over," he instructed me. "That's what I like. Like my cock all over then suck it down that white throat of yours."

I ran my tongue up to the tip of his prick. I then took the purple head into my mouth. I gradually took more of it in to my mouth. My tongue kept stroking as I put moved down toward his balls. His hand came down on the back of my head, and the next thing I know my nose was buried in his thick, black, wiry public hair. I twisted my head, felt his cock rotate in my mouth and throat. I came up for breath, and he drove me down again. When I brought my head up next, I wiggled the tip of my tongue into the slit at the end of his dick. I swept the head of his pick with my tongue and tasted the beginning of his ejaculation.

I began to suck in earnest. Maintaining the suction, I bobbed my head over his lap, spreading my knees wide on the floor of the moving car to keep my balance. Up and down, up and down I went. My jaws began to ache. Once in a while my teeth nicked his sensitive flesh, and he gasped.

I could barely hear Patrick and Randy discussing the prospects for their favorite local soccer team. I knew instinctively that it was not the subject of the discussion that was important – only that they were deliberately ignoring me and what I was doing. All designed to communicate to the other two women and to me that we were not important – other than to give head whenever and wherever we were ordered to do so.

Finally, I got to him. His hands touched my head, and his hips began to squirm. He began to lift and push my head. His hips jammed upward in a fucking motion. My throat felt battered. I began to say over and over again to myself, 'Oh, God, come. Please come.'

"Here it comes, Elaine. Show me before you wallow it!"

I accumulated as much as I could before it spilled over and out my mouth. I opened my mouth to show the puddle on my tongue. When he signaled it was OK to swallow, I let his cum slide down my throat.. I felt it burn all the way down. The final spurts were less copious and spaced further apart. I kept swallowing; the last dribbles were thin. He grabbed my hair and dragged my face off his dick. I looked at it from six inches away; my face was shiny with my saliva and his cum.