

Girls' Nightmare Out
Rogue Alan,  11/2000

She groaned, aware of harsh light leaking around the curtains into her face,
& rolled to the other side. Her mind registered surprise-her husband wasn't
in bed with her-& dim awareness of some discomfort.  There were aches all
over, as if she'd been working out especially hard the day before, but there
was something. She blinked her eyes, looking around the familiar room, much
more bright than it should have been in the morning. She checked the clock:
11:16! She sat up, again aware of a strange, almost painful pulling as the
covers shifted on her chest. She pushed the covers down, scanning her naked
body, eyes still bleary with sleep. Something glittered over her breast, at
her left nipple. She was aware belatedly that the vague discomfort was
emanating from there. She blinked again, struggled to focus, & gasped in
shock: it was a nipple ring. She scrunched back beneath the covers,
searching the room, desperate to know if her husband had seen. How had that
happened? She covered her face & tried to recall the events of the past
night.  She'd been with Kathy, on their weekly `girls' night out.' She
remembered leaving-she'd driven-but after that. Nothing. There was no other
sound in the house, & she wondered if her family was gone for the day. She
reached for the bedside phone to call Kathy-maybe she would have some
insight into what they'd done. The shift to sitting as she reached for the
phone reminded her of her achy body, though, & her bladder was complaining,
so she pushed the covers back & rolled to her feet, staggering into the
bathroom. Her breath caught on the cold tile, & she pranced to the mat by
her vanity, looking at her torso in the mirror, then down at the real
thing-the bright silver ring entered 1 side of her left nipple, emerging
from the other & dropping in a small loop below the deep pink flesh. There
was a tiny bead at the bottom, she guessed where the ring closed. She was
surprised that there was no blood, & that the pain was minimal-more an
awareness of something different than anything wrong-even when she
tentatively reached up & shifted the ring. There was a drop of something
clear & hard on the bead, & a little experimentation convinced her it would
be better not to try to remove it, as the manipulation that required was
painful, & she couldn't unseat the ring from the bead. Stepping back, she
admitted privately it didn't look bad, keeping her usually flat nipple
semi-erect, capping the firm, round breast nicely. She wondered what her
husband would say. & what she would be able to tell him. Turning to the
water closet, she moved onto the mat below the stool & sat down on the cold
seat, sighing as she relieved herself. There seemed to be more fluid than
usual dripping into the toilet, & she reached down, fingers absently moving
through her pubic thatch, which she found had areas of hairs matted together
in small tangles, as if she hadn't cleaned up after sex. More shocking,
though, as she brought the toilet paper between her legs to wipe, was
something hard, nestled between her labia. Melissa flipped the lights on,
peering between her legs. She was shocked again, more deeply than before, to
find a 2nd silver ring hanging from the mid-portion of her right inner
labia. She also noticed the sparse whitish flakes coating her inner thighs,
& that suddenly, the aching she felt, & the fullness in her belly, took on a
new, horrific meaning. She leapt up, throwing the shower on & barely waiting
for the water to get hot before hurling herself into the tiny stall. She
pulled the handheld showerhead off of the wall, bringing the steaming spray
to her sex. She washed her crotch thoroughly if gently-the ring in her labia
was more tender than that in her nipple-trying to deny that there were globs
of semen flushing from her vaginal canal. She couldn't ask her husband if
they'd had sex, desperately hoping they had, even if she'd been asleep.
Suddenly apprehensive, she climbed dripping from the shower, retrieving a
hand held mirror from the vanity, then climbed back into the relative
seclusion of the shower to check for any other changes. there were no
hickies, scars or other marks. She heaved a sigh of relief, though the fear
remained. What had she done?! She climbed out & was toweling dry when her
husband poked his head through the door. She bit her lip, wondering how he'd
react to the changes.
	"Fred called this morning. Boy, was he irate. He was sure Kathy was
cheating on him; he ranted about how she'd said she was out with you, but
she'd come home with a pierced navel & another ring in her pussy." He
smiled, "Damn, hon', I didn't know you had it in you!" She paused, trying to
keep her jaw from hitting the floor. "You like it. them?" "What's not to
like?" he shrugged, "The younger guys at the office are always talking about
their girlfriends' piercings & things. I guess it's a sign you enjoy your
sexuality, so why should I complain," he grinned, "But how long before we
can," he moved his hips suggestively, "You know?" She smiled in spite of
herself. Surely he'd just taken advantage of her while she was sleeping. She
hadn't been above that a time or 2, herself. "Well, it is a little sore. I'
ll let you know," she dried between her legs carefully, shivering at the
morning's events, "Um, when did I get in?" "Dunno. I was asleep. You 2 were
out later than usual, though, that's for sure. & you should see how you
parked. I could barely get into the garage. Maybe take a cab next time, OK?"
She nodded, a mixture of relief & anxiety roiling in her stomach. She could
really drink, she knew, but she'd never been so drunk she couldn't remember
things. & she didn't drive when she was drunk; a couple times they'd taken
cabs home. Jeff gave her a final lascivious wink, then disappeared, & she
absently began to get dressed. As she pulled her panties on, she had a
sudden thought, & hurried to the hamper, fearing what she might find. To her
puzzlement, there were no panties. She went through the bedding, looked in
the bathroom & under the bed, but found nothing. The matching bra lay beside
the hamper. She dressed, opting after the 1st contact of panties with the
ring in her pussy not to wear any, & assuming she'd left the last pair
wherever she'd gotten pierced. She considered whether she wanted them back
enough to call around & quickly decided the panties were a small loss.
	Dressed & feeling almost whole, if aware of the different sensation at her
left breast, Melissa poured herself a cup of coffee and made sure Jeff & her
sons were out of earshot before she wandered into her tiny office & picked
up the phone. She dialed from memory, hoping Fred was as understanding as
her husband had been about what they'd done. He was clearly more uptight
than her husband, which seemed strange, considering she knew Kathy was the
more free-spirited compared to herself. The phone rang twice-Kathy always
waited for the caller ID to identify a call-then Kathy picked up.
	"Mel?" "Yeah. Um, can you tell me what happened last night?" There was a
long pause, "I was hoping you could tell me! Fred nearly shit when he saw.
well, when he saw what I'd done. I can't remember doing it, though!" "Me
either. I don't remember anything after meeting you for drinks." "I remember
a little more than that. The club was busy as usual, & I remember having a
couple drinks, but after that. it all gets hazy. When do you want to get
your car?" "It's. it's here, already." "You drove like that? Damn! I can't
believe we did this. did you ever think about. you know?" "Getting piercings
like this? No way! Jeff laughed that he thought it was sexy when we saw 1 on
a `night time cable' show, but I told him there was no way I was going to do
that. & the 2nd ring. I can't believe I let anyone get close enough to do
that." "I know what you mean. This is scary, Mel." "That's not the  of it.
were you. you know, did you have sex last night?" "You mean with Fred?" Mel'
s voice was suddenly strained. "I guess. I don't know." "I, um, don't
remember it, but I did it sometime last night." "Me too." Both women were
silent for several moments. "Oh God! You don't think." Mel shook her head,
not wanting to consider it. "I can't believe it.  I mean, for both of us to.
but then I look down, & who'd have guessed both of us would. you know." "I
know. What should we do?" Mel considered Kathy's question. Usually her
friend was the 1 with ideas, the 1 charging off without explaining her idea.
"Well. we could go to the club. ask if anyone saw anything?" "That's a
start," Kathy agreed, "Though I'm kind of scared what we might learn."
"Better to know," Melissa said, trying to convince herself as much as her
friend. "Oh, I also had a receipt in my purse from Fine Line Tattoo.  There'
s an address for the place in the phone book. It's downtown." "You're
kidding?! That's a long way from the club; there have to be closer places to
get. what we got." "I know. & you wouldn't believe how expensive it was.
$200!" "Wow," Melissa wondered how she'd spent that kind of money. Jeff made
good money, & she taught elementary school to supplement their income, but
that was a lot to spend on. something she hadn't known she wanted. "Tell you
what," Kathy sounded more in control of herself & the situation, to Melissa'
s relief, "You check the club, see what people know, & I'll check at this
tattoo place. We'll meet for lunch." Melissa agreed, remembering belatedly
the rest of her family was at soccer. She scrawled a note to her husband
that she & Kathy were going `looking for some things' & to lunch, grabbed
her cell phone & keys, & left.
	Just like Jeff had claimed, her Camry was cock-eyed in the garage; so 
badly
it was hard to get out onto the drive. She found the seat was farther back
than usual, & had to readjust the mirrors as well as she left their guarded
subdivision and got onto the highway. Remembering what Kathy had said, she
went through her purse, looking for any clues as to what had happened Friday
night. She shook her head angrily-Jeff had pointed out they usually did
their night out during the week, but he & the boys had gone to a movie & he
hadn't been angry; he'd just warned her to watch out since the crowd on
weekends could be a little rowdier. She thrust the thoughts that threatened
to follow that line of reasoning away as she pulled into the little dance
club just off of 75th street. There were a few cars in the lot, even though
it was barely after noon. Before getting out, she completed her search of
the car & her purse. She had a matching receipt to the 1 described by her
friend from the tattoo parlor; barely legible writing noting `tit/lip
special' and something she couldn't decipher. It worried her that after the
word `special' was a word that looked suspiciously like `permanent,'
whatever that meant.
	There was also a receipt from a bar she vaguely remembered as being
downtown. The amount was not so impressive that she would've thought she'd
be blind drunk. She resolved to visit the strange bar if she found nothing
else-it was on the way to her lunch date on the Plaza. Inside the bar was
more brightly lit than she remembered. She didn't recognize the young men
working behind the bar, though 1 eyed her for a moment & nudged his buddy.
She blushed, wondering why they were staring, & hurried beyond the bar to
the dance floor & booths at the back, looking for someone she knew. She saw
Erica, a week night waitress filling napkin dispensers, & after exchanging a
somewhat awkward greeting, Melissa haltingly explained that she & Kathy
couldn't remember all that they'd done the night before & were hoping to
find some answers. Erica laughed that she'd been `at other bars' the night
before, but told Melissa to wait, & walked over to the guys behind the bar.
Melissa watched as Erica spoke, & felt a wave or relief when 1 of the 2
nodded. The other said something to Erica, then, & the waitress shook her
head, talking for another moment, & indicating a height with her hand,
Melissa guessed she was describing Kathy. Again the 1st man nodded, while
the second shrugged but agreed. Erica turned, a strange expression on her
face. She hurried back & motioned for Melissa to sit in the booth she'd been
working.
	"Steve & Greg worked the bar last night. They say you & your friend were 
in
about 9." "That'd be about right," Melissa nodded, "What's wrong?" the
waitress' expression was increasingly worrisome. "Well, I told them I think
they're thinking of different women, `cause I know you're both married &
just come to unwind." Melissa nodded, "But they insist you had a drink with
a guy they'd never seen before, & shortly all 3 of you left. Greg thinks it
wasn't even 10, yet." Melissa nodded, trying not to show any emotion. She
waited, hiding her hands beneath the table so Erica wouldn't see they were
shaking. "That's not all they said, is it?" Erica blushed, but shook her
head, "No. They said you 2 were hanging all over this guy. They figured he
was about to get doubly lucky." "They'd never seen him before?" "Nope. He
paid cash, tipped all right but not great," she smiled, "In fact, they said
the only reason they noticed was that he was black, & was leaving with the 2
best looking women in the place."  Something in Melissa's expression must
have concerned the younger woman, because she reached across the table, "Is
something wrong?" Melissa managed to shake her head, mumbling her thanks, &
telling Erica they'd remember her help the next time they were in. The
sprightly girl smiled, "Don't worry, you 2 are some of my best customers."
Melissa tried to smile in reply as she stood. She managed not to look at the
bartenders, who were still watching her, as she hurried outside & to her
car. Seated behind the wheel, she sat shaking for several moments, amazed at
what she'd heard-she & Kathy had left the bar with a black man? It was
surreal. She started to dial Kathy's cell phone, but stopped, resolved to
check out the 2nd bar to which she'd found the receipt. Digging it out of
her purse, she threw some trash-used Kleenex, empty gum wrappers, & the
crinkles edge of a black plastic wrap-to the ground. There was more than a
receipt, she realized; there was a matchbook with the address. She breathed
a sigh of relief that nothing was written inside as she pulled onto 75th
street and headed toward I35.
	The Edge was a techno club, the latest incarnation in a string of glitzy
but short-lived themes. The success of the club Melissa had heard depended
on its `varied' clientele, a polite way of calling it a gay bar. So she wasn
't surprised to see both men & women watching her as she entered the place,
which even in the afternoon was dark, with black lights & dim neon lights
hanging from the ceiling in chaotic arrays. She approached the bar, where a
bearded man was wiping glasses & hanging them on the overhead rack in
preparation for the night's customers. He looked at her once, then more
steadily, holding a glass in his hand. "I thought I told you I didn't want
to see you in here, again." "I'm sorry, I don't understand." "Look, lady.
You're a knock out & so was your friend, & I know we have a lot of
interesting people around here, but you can't behave like you did last
night. I coulda got closed down, & you 2 shoulda got arrested." "I'm sorry,"
Melissa stammered again, blushing fiercely, "I'm just. My friend & I? We don
't know exactly what happened last night. I was hoping you could." The man
shook his head, "I shoulda known. Tried something new, last night? Booze ain
't enough to get you up? You waltzed in with this big black guy, had a
couple drinks, & flirted with the bartenders & waitresses, both. That's
cool. We expect that. I don't even mind when you get up on the tables to
dance if you're good, like you 2 were. But I can't have you flashing your
tits in here. & I certainly can't tolerate public sex acts." "Public." "Yes,
that's what I call blowing the guy at the edge of the dance floor. I swear,
condom or not, I can't have that going on out here. it's bad enough when you
people use the bathroom for your quickies." His tone softened as he saw
Melissa trembling, "Look, I don't mean there's anything wrong with what y'
all did. you just can't do it in here like that." She nodded numbly, "The
guy didn't put up a fuss & you left without any problem when we asked. We
want you back, just not acting like that." Melissa nodded, & feebly,
managed, "Um, was there anything. unusual about our flashing people on the
tables?" The guy stared at her as if he hadn't heard. She blushed more
deeply, "Were there any weird rings or piercings or anything?" The guy shook
his head, "Honey, if you're that far gone, you need help. Trust me, this
life will eat you alive," he looked pointedly at her left hand & the wedding
band, "Go home. Be with your family. Don't let this ruin your life." Melissa
's legs felt unsteady as she returned to her car, wondering what the man
meant. When he'd spoken, she'd wondered if he knew something he wasn't
saying, but the reality of what had happened was so shocking she wasn't
thinking clearly at all. She checked her watch, hoping Kathy would have some
answers.
	Lunch at the Classic Cup was subdued. Kathy had her head in her hands over
a cup of coffee when Melissa sat down. Her friend looked up; to Melissa's
surprise, she'd been crying. "What's wrong?" she had a sudden fear she didn'
t know the worst of it. Kathy shook her head, waiting until the intrusive
waiter took Melissa's drink order. Kathy didn't look up as she began to
speak, "God, Mel. I don't know where to start. We were there last night. &
we weren't alone. There was a black guy with us. The man at the shop. Can
you believe I let a strange man do. this to my pussy." She glanced around
self-consciously; tables at the Cup were close, but no one was seated
nearby. "He said. He told me we'd come in asking for `matching work.' The
guy was suggesting we get clit rings, but when he mentioned they had a sale
on `tits & lips' doing a nipple & labia ring, the guy told us that sounded
good. & we agreed. He showed me where we signed. No waver or nothing. It's
our names, all right." "Oh, God," Melissa mumbled, aware that her friend was
corroborating what she'd learned. "That's not all," Kathy took a deep
breath, "We said we wanted `permanent closures.'" "What?" "Permanent
closures. Had you noticed the clear stuff on the thick part of the rings?"
Melissa nodded. "That's epoxy. like Super Glue. It fused the ring so it can
only be cut off." She looked around again, & shivered, "But we also made a
down payment for tattoos. The man said we `hadn't decided yet' & the guy we
were with told him we'd be back another time. I told him neither of us
remembered a thing, & he just shrugged & said we'd `seemed all right to him.
' The pig. He laughed that `our lover' wanted us to get the piercings on
opposite sides so he could `tell us apart in the dark.' He said the guy
wanted to be sure we'd still be able to fuck that night, & went so far as to
tell me that based on what was leaking out of us, he'd bet we'd already been
a round or 2." There was a mix of humiliation & defiance in her expression
when she looked up at Melissa. "I asked him how he wasn't surprised that we
didn't remember what had happened, & he just shrugged & told me that in his
line of work, nothing he sees surprised him anymore, & added that `at least
we'd taken it outside before we were all over the guy we were with.' Then he
told me to come back whenever we'd decided what we wanted & where." Melissa
related what she'd learned, the mention of oral sex and condoms, though her
friend's words had effectively dashed any hope they'd stayed protected, &
the dancing & exhibitionism.
The women were silent through much of lunch, each trying to come to grips
with what had happened. How could mothers & devoted wives get in such
trouble for going out for a couple drinks. Melissa tried not to think about
what could happen if her husband learned of what had really happened. Or her
employer. Kathy was in no better position. Her husband was less tolerant of
anything he considered `liberal' & her job as a legal secretary would be in
as much danger if people thought she behaved like that routinely. Looking at
her friend, Melissa could see how the bartenders-or any man-might be
interested in a tryst. They regularly turned down offers to dance, as well
as outright propositions. Her friend had the graceful lines of an athlete,
standing 5'10" but weighing only 140#, a willowy figure who still managed
enough bust to attract attention, & whose legs & ass even Melissa found
attractive. Melissa was no less fit-both women played tennis & golf in the
summer and swam at the Y in the winter-though she was shorter, standing only
5'5", weighing 115#.  In contrast to her friend's blonde bob & sparkling
green eyes, Melissa's jet-black hair reached the small of her back, & her
clear gray eyes were more guarded and appraising. Melissa had the larger
chest, though neither was top-heavy by any standard. Melissa tanned, while
her friend avoided the sun whenever possible, though a dusting of freckles
was faintly visible on her nose.
	Uncharacteristically, each opted for dessert before Melissa returned to 
the
topic of their activities that day. "I can't believe it. I mean, if I could
at least remember something." Kathy nodded, "But then I tell myself I don't
want to remember. I mean, ignorance is bliss, right? We aren't sure we did
anything."  Melissa eyed her friend, "I had dried cum in my crotch this
morning, Kathy. If it wasn't Jeff." she swallowed suddenly, unable to
finish, then took a breath, "God. I don't know what he'll do when he finds
out." "Why should he find out?" Kathy challenged, "We didn't try to do
anything. We certainly didn't enjoy it! Don't punish yourself." "But I."
"You made a mistake. So did I. Just don't let it happen again," she paused,
"But I agree, I wish I knew how it happened. Did we try something someone
gave us? We had to be drugged somehow, unless it was aliens," she snorted.
Melissa nodded, "But that's rule 1: no drinks from strangers. We never do
that!" Kathy nodded, then shrugged. "So what do we do, now?" Melissa asked
her friend. Though Kathy was only 4 months older (both were 28), she was the
decision maker. "Well, we don't stop our girls' night out." "But." "Look,
Mel, if we stop, we won't get to start again later. & our husbands might get
suspicious if we suddenly stopped after." she glanced down at her blouse as
if she expected the ring to be visible, "This. So we'll go to a different
bar or to the movies or to Barnes & Noble. I don't care, but I still need
some time away from home." Melissa nodded; as usual her friend was making
sense, "Just think of the rings & the tattoo payment as our reminder not to
let our guard down to anyone else." The women paid the outrageous bill, then
spent a blissful afternoon shopping before returning home to their families
& the rest of the weekend.
Over the rest of the weekend, Melissa was even able to forget sometimes what
had undoubtedly happened. She adapted to the strange sensations of the
jewelry rubbing against her clothes, though panties remained a no-no. The
time she did consider the lost night, she was aware of a nagging suspicion
she & Kathy were forgetting something, but could not place what it was. By
mutual agreement, they went to the movies the next week, then sat in a
coffee shop relating the week's trials. A month passed without any apparent
problem. They stayed away from the bars, shopping or eating out or seeing
`chick flicks.' Both women visited their gynecologist to be sure there was
no problem that could be transmitted to their husbands, & were relieved when
there was none.

Part II
	The man moved easily through the crowd, attracting no undue attention. He
was a partier among partiers to anyone observing. Bigger than most,
certainly, but even that he minimized, hunching slightly, `thinking' small
as it was. He kept a fresh Ginger Ale in hand at all times, sizing up the
crowd, looking for his opportunities. Or to follow up on past successes, as
he had been waiting to do for more than a month. Tom was a recruiter of
sorts. He found dancers for the clubs downtown, & even for out of state-and
occasionally out of country-clients. For nearly 15y he'd been finding
willing young women to go on stage & expose themselves for dollar tips, but
in the last 5y he'd developed a more specialized, if unadvertised, service.
He was a man who could `get' a woman for a buyer.  Simply provide the
desired traits, & he would search them out. & willingness to participate was
completely optional, thanks to his little friends. He had used the `roofies'
increasingly, 1st to procure otherwise inaccessible women for his own
pleasure, but then, to expand his business, as well. He smiled. In 2y he'd
established a premiere `escort service' made up predominantly of housewives
who had fallen into his trap. Their behavior was amazingly consistent. After
a night with him, in which he'd make sure they did outrageous things, they
invariably tried to ignore whatever had happened. None ever seemed to
consider that he had their names & addresses, their credit card numbers &
house keys & day planners long enough to make copies; or that he had them
long enough to be sure he could. encourage future cooperation. Of course, he
seldom used the Polaroids anymore, though he never passed up a chance to get
pictures. Cheap airfare had allowed a more convincing manner of guaranteeing
cooperation & turning a profit at the same time. He even had some of the
wives in his stable flying to service out of town customers.
	He eyed the crowd of this bar, aware that they had come here again, the 
1st
time since he'd picked them up. He smiled, remembering that night with a
rare fondness-the women were truly talented, if somewhat uninspired. He
fingered the vial of tablets in his pocket & considered his options. He
could let them have their evening uninterrupted, or. He stepped forward &
caught the bartender's attention, "What's tonight's special?" he asked,
already knowing the answer. "Blue Hawaii," the bartender answered.  Tom
nodded & held up 2 fingers & a $10 spot. A minute later, he sauntered to the
table where his women-he already thought of them that way-were sitting,
nearly empty pina coladas on the table. "Hello, ladies," he'd pinched a tray
from the server's station, & uncovered a pin approximating that worn by the
waiters & waitresses, taking only enough time to add a healthy dose of
crushed Rohypnol to each. "The bartender says you're regulars," he continued
his spiel, "& this is tonight's special drink, the Blue Hawaii. Compliments
of the bar," he waved in the direction of the bar, having waited until the
bartender was turned away with another customer." "That's OK," the brunette
began, but he waved her off, "Seriously, please. The folks who ordered this
left, & I can't drink them," he forced a smile, ready to go to plan B if
there was a problem. the pictures were tucked in his jacket-2 envelopes with
their names, addresses, & other pertinent information hand written on the
outside. Instead, the blonde shrugged, taking 1 of the drinks from the tray.
Her friend-Kathy-followed, & nodding his thanks, Tom turned, ostensibly to
return to the bar. He took his time circling the central drink station,
ditching the tray & hiding his nametag in the process. From the opposite
side, he watched as the ladies sipped at their drinks. This was the risky
part-if another man hit on them after the drug was working, but before he
could get there, they might give someone else a freebie. He waited, willing
himself to be patient & the women to finish their drinks. The brunette was
1st, & Tom took the opportunity to swing by, again posing as a waiter-the
lack of a nametag shouldn't worry either woman any longer. The 1st time, he'
d simply followed their waitress, adding the drug to their drinks when she
paused to serve another group in the close confines of the booths. It had
been a matter of waiting the right amount of time, then taking control of
the helpless women. He smiled, remembering how much fun the evening had
been, & anticipating more such enjoyment. When he leaned over the table &
said, "Want another Blue Hawaii?" the brunette paused for a moment, as if
she was having difficulty understanding the question, which hadn't really
been a question. She nodded slowly, & he smiled & turned away, hurrying to
the bar, where he purchased 3 more drinks, dosing each as he circled the
bar-avoiding the real wait staff. Lastly, he popped 2 of the Romazicon
tabs-an `antidote' of sorts for the Rohypnol. There wasn't so much he'd get
loopy in the drink, but he wanted to remain clear headed, & he had to get
the ladies high enough to obey him.
	Instead of leaving their drinks at the table as he'd done before, Tom sat
down beside the blonde & slid the drinks in front of each before leaning
back to look at them. "Damn, but you 2 are something," he said
appreciatively. The blonde leaned away from him slightly, "Look, thanks, but
we don't take drinks from other people," the blonde's words slurred
slightly, as if she'd had a few drinks. Tom knew better; some people were
extremely susceptible to the drug. He shrugged, "What? You think I drugged
these or something? Here," he took a healthy drink from each glass then sat
back, "Besides, you already had a drink I bought you, remember?" Panic
sparked behind the blonde's eyes, before he went on, leading her off track,
"I was your `waiter' a minute ago? I figured that would at least earn me
time to sit here for a minute or 2." The brunette eyed him warily but did
not speak. "Look, I saw you 2 in here the other day. maybe a month ago. You
didn't have a problem leaving with a black guy that night." he dangled the
bait, wondering how they would react. The women looked at each other, before
the brunette said, "You saw us with another black guy?" "Sure did. I
remember thinking what a lucky guy he was," Tom took a drink of the Blue
Hawaii in front of him, willing the women to do the same. The blonde seemed
terribly thirsty, suddenly. Her friend considered it for a moment. "You know
him? The guy we were with?" "Not specifically. I mean, he hangs on the club
scene; I'd heard he deals in crank & some of the other. illicit
pharmaceuticals, but I don't go for that stuff, man." "Would you recognize
him if you saw him?" "You kidding? What's wrong, he stiff you or something?"
The brunette didn't answer, instead taking a healthy drink. He watched,
trying to gauge their reactions, then looked around, "He's been here off &
on the last couple weeks. He'll swing through, like he's looking for
someone, then he leaves. I dunno," he shrugged, "Maybe he's trying to pay
you back if he owes you money." Neither woman spoke, but they didn't tell
him to leave, either. Tom nursed his drink, pretending to swallow any time
the women were drinking. Soon their glasses were empty, & he insisted on
sharing his with them. By that time, neither woman was saying much, spending
their time staring blankly ahead of them for increasing stretches. He smiled
inwardly, then said, "Hey, I think he's been hanging out at that place
downtown, the Edge, a lot. I'll take you there." As he spoke, he caught the
blonde gently by the arm, lifting her out of her seat. She didn't protest,
but let him guide her out of the booth, the brunette following behind. He
checked to be sure the bartender was otherwise occupied, then headed to the
shadowed aisle at the edge of the club, staying out of sight until they were
outside. "Where's your car?" the brunette pointed. It was a late model Jeep
Grand Cherokee. He asked for the keys, then headed toward downtown, turning
off not toward the Edge, but toward the Municipal Airport. There was new
service from a small carrier from there to Las Vegas, & he had plans for his
latest mares. Neither woman protested the change in venue, & when prompted,
each called home, leaving a message-he was glad their families were out,
making it easier to carry off-that Melissa had 1 a weekend getaway for 2
that weekend only so they were flying out, & promising to let the husbands
have a weekend soon. After that, it was a simple matter to get them aboard
the small business jet. On board were a few of Tom's friends & customers.
Each had paid handsomely to help in assuring the housewives would soon be
his willing, if not eager, whores. He carefully plied them with more drinks,
keeping the level of roofies high enough in their system that they were
docile & obedient. When he told them to strip after take-off, they did
without hesitation. He already had the camcorder rolling, being careful not
to let any of the men's faces be seen. The women were soon standing naked in
the narrow aisle, & he had them turn, getting nice close-ups of each woman
in all her glory. A moment later, he had both women masturbating in the
aisle seats. As he had noted was often the case, the women seemed less
drugged when being made to pleasure themselves. At his urging off camera,
each woman said for the camcorder, "I want to join the mile high club,"
before 1 of his friends, who quickly obliged the drugged women, bending them
over seat arms & fucking them hard & fast, doggie style. The women moaned &
groaned at the urging of the men taking them-it didn't have to be Tom giving
the orders-begging for more when the 1st man had cum deep in their cunts, &
seemingly welcoming the in flight gang bang that occurred. When every man
had enjoyed each of the women, he recorded a nice bit where they lay in the
aisle, eating each other clean. Then, just before they began the descent
into Vegas, he had the tattoo artist go to work. The man had demanded Tom
pay for the portable equipment when he'd 1st approached him with his
`business proposal,' but it had been well worth it. The guy got a `free ride
' on these flights, but he provided advance notice if the women Tom
`recruited' were searching for him, as these had, & his work really was 1st
class. Tom prepped each woman, who then sauntered to the tiny `studio' set
up in the plane, & casually asked if the artist would trade them a tattoo
for a pussy fuck. When the artist said, "Sure, what do you want?" the women
giggled-as ordered to do-then said, "This," Kathy handing over the page Tom
had given her. It was a bastardized version of the mouse, Jerry, from Tom &
Jerry, with 1 hand holding an oversized erect cock. All of his `girls' had
that tattoo somewhere-he'd let the women choose, as addled as they remained.
Often, his soon to be whores would just settle back in the chair, ready for
the agreed upon fuck, & letting the tat be placed down by their pubes. The
occasional, especially willful woman would choose an ankle or back or
breast, but both of his new recruits obediently reclined in the provided
seats, letting the man ink them, then ball them. Tom always enjoyed the fact
that the camera showed him carefully donning latex gloves to prevent
infection while doing the skin work, after which he'd strip the gloves off
with a snap, drop his zipper, & plunge his naked cock into their exposed
pussy, sans any sort of protection. He'd just finished banging the petite
blonde when the wheels hit the tarmac, signaling their landing. The men
smiled & talked among 1 another, aware that they'd get similar treatment,
but from more responsive women, on the ride home. For the next day, they
were free to enjoy the sites of the City that Never Sleeps. Tom's 1 rule-to
protect his investment-was that the men working to help him break his new
whores in not fool around on the side; the last thing he needed was to get
any of his women infected with some STD. That had been difficult at 1st,
since there weren't many women, but with almost 45 women working for him
directly, & another 2 dozen he'd `recruited' working for similar outfits,
the men had no end of available pussy. He told the women to get dressed,
noticing that neither wore any panties, & aware that it was likely because
of the labia rings, with which he'd begun their indoctrination. They
obediently downed another glass of spiked champagne before he led them down
the stairs to a waiting limo, which whisked them into the city, & a prepared
suite. Once there, he again had them strip, then fucked each of them in
their pussy & ass, making sure to leave a load in each of them before
collecting their things. He gave each another drink, more heavily spiked,
which put them out completely, then spent some time quick-dubbing the tape
with his camcorder, leaving the rough copy & a note on the television
cabinet. He'd stop by the next morning, or almost morning. they had a full
day ahead of them.

Part III
	Melissa rolled to her side, groaning as dim awareness surfaced. The room
was completely dark. She shifted, trying to find a comfortable spot on the
hard mattress beneath her. Something was wrong, though she was not sure
exactly what. She blinked, looked at the red numbers of the alarm clock:
4AM. Her husband was pressed against her right side. That was strange-he
usually lay to her left. She was trying to figure why she was seeing red &
not blue clock numbers, when she put a questioning hand against Jeff's back,
& found none of the hair she expected. That quickly, Melissa was completely
awake. She sat up, pushing the covers down. Even in the dark, it was obvious
it was not her bedroom. Panic clutched at her throat. She looked beside her,
almost against her will, & relaxed fractionally when she realized it was
Kathy snoring quietly beside her. Her friend was naked from the waist up, &
Melissa realized with no small embarrassment she was totally naked. A
fragment of memory from the last time she'd awoken so disoriented made her
reach to her crotch & right breast, fearful of what she would find. no new
rings were in evidence. Pushing at Kathy's shoulder, she reached blindly for
the bed stand lamp & turned it on. She reached belatedly for the covers to
hide herself, but the room was empty. Kathy groaned, rolling to her back,
still unaware of anything as Melissa ran to the windows & looked out, trying
to ignore the now familiar fullness between her legs. It wasn't the squalor
of a `cheater's motel' she already knew, based on the quality of the
furnishing. A brightly lit city stretched out far below her-not Kansas City.
Her breath caught, as she tried to guess where she was. She saw familiar
names of `the Strip' & knew, but couldn't imagine how." "Melissa?" Kathy was
starting to figure something was wrong. She sat up, as well, & Melissa
gasped as she looked at her friend. "What's. Oh, God," Kathy answered,
staring at Melissa in equal shock, then down at her own naked body. Melissa
eyed her own torso, a sob escaping her throat as she saw the lewd teddy bear
or mouse marring her pubes. She wiped at it, wishing it were painted on, but
knowing better. "Oh, God," Melissa asked, searching her friend's face for
answers, "What's happened to us?" "I don't know," Kathy answered, an audible
quake in her voice. She glanced around, stepping to the clothes cabinet &
pulling on a robe. She threw the 2nd to Melissa, who said, "What about our
clothes?" The women searched the suite, finding none of their clothes, &
worse, their purses were missing. Kathy saw the videotape first. Melissa had
tried the phone, but could not learn who was paying for the room in which
they stayed-hotel policy the clerk claimed. Kathy got her friend's
attention, then slid the tape into the player with shaking hands.
The tape hissed to life, showing no fewer than 7 men in what they realized
belatedly was a small jet. The camera passed over them initially at chest
height, showing everyone was clothed. The screen went dark, & a moment
later, showed them stripping, then showing themselves off to the camera &
the strange men. Kathy gasped when the tape jumped again, showing her
masturbating feverishly, the sounds of her moans caught on camera. She didn'
t realize that she didn't yet have the tattoo. Melissa pointed that out
softly as the frame shifted to show her matching performance on the opposite
side of the aisle. The frame shifted again, & the women heard themselves
asking to join the mile high club, after which there began an endless
session during which 1 man after another fucked their apparently willing
bodies. As she saw the 1st man to take her-a heavy set black with a thick,
strangely bent penis-stiffen, thrusting into her fully & saying, "Ahhh, take
my load, slut. Tell me how much you like it," after which her own voice
answered, "I like it. Give it to me," Melissa  stood stiffly & hurried into
the shower, where Kathy joined her a moment later. The women were relieved
that the showerhead was detachable, & douched as best as they could, paying
no attention to the fact that they were doing such intimate activities
together. Long after the cold water had run out, they exited the oversized
stall, & after drying off sat together on the couch in the main room in
front of the TV. "We have to know," Melissa said quietly after a time. It
scared her how quiet Kathy was. Her friend nodded stiffly, then picked up
the remote. As they watched the seemingly endless tape, each had to stop
repeatedly at 1st, but by the end, they were fast forwarding through the
intolerable sections rather than breaking down in tears. Again, neither had
any memory of what had happened, but the images were more than plain. "Jeff
would leave me," Melissa took a halting breath, "What does he want? Why are
we here?" Kathy shook her head helplessly, "I wish I knew. All I remember is
that there was a different waiter." Melissa nodded, "& we had the special.
Blue something." "That's right." Kathy paused, "Why do I think he wasn't a
waiter?" Both women sat in misery, eyes still glued to the screen. The same
disgusting man who'd been 1st with Melissa was finishing in Kathy, & the
brunette nodded, looking to her friend, "Fred's sort of. prejudiced. 1 look
at this & he'd probably kill me." "What do we do?" Melissa looked to her
friend, who simply shrugged, "I guess we call home. `Hey honey, I was
kidnapped & gang raped & I don't remember any of it, but now I'm naked in a
hotel suite in Las Vegas with no clothes or money. Oh, & you know those
piercings? You won't believe the souvenir I have now.' He'd have his lawyer
in the kitchen & a restraining order for the kids before he thought about
wiring money for a ticket home." Melissa feared Jeff's reaction would not be
much different. The screen had gone blank, & the women sat staring at it for
a moment. "What should we do with it?" "Burn it. There's a copy, of course.
We're well & truly screwed," Kathy brooded for a moment standing abruptly &
walking to the window, "It's like this is a gilded cage, you know? I would
have given anything to be in a place like this with Fred, but this. this is
horrible." Melissa nodded her agreement, starting when the picture cleared
suddenly & a voice boomed over the TV speaker.
"Hello, sluts!" is said. The camera was on, but it was the cameraman
speaking, & there was no sound. The picture was of them asleep on the bed,
Melissa's legs spread, a steady trickle of cum running down her inner thigh.
Kathy was on her stomach, & as the camera panned down, the photographer's
cock was pictured, thrust fully into the brunette's ass. As they watched, he
pulled out for an unbelievable time before slipping free of her pucker,
which remained obscenely open, glistening from the flash where his jism sat
in her bowels. "Now you know why you're sore there," he began, a smile in
his voice as the camera panned back to Melissa, "& this is mine. You loved
it," he added. You've probably guessed, you've been quite naughty girls in
the last 12 hours. I'd guess you've had more men than either of you had
before you were married." he paused for effect. Melissa shivered-Jeff had
been her only until. She glanced at Kathy, who nodded & held up 3 fingers.
The voice continued, "I bet you're wondering how you got here? I'd tell you,
but then you'd be tempted to use this tape in a way I don't want it used, so
when you're ready to talk, just dial 1578 & ask for Tom-that's why little
Jerry is there by your nice little pussies, so you remember who I am. I'll
stop by. I wouldn't try to leave if I were you. there are better copies of
the tape, as well as some pictures," the camera panned to the bed beside
Melissa's naked flesh & a black hand held several Polaroids down so they
could see images of each woman sucking & fucking the same gigantic erection,
sans condom, in Melissa's car. "So if you try to get home without money &
wearing hotel issue robes, you'll still have some explaining to do. I
especially like what you say on the video, though. that can't be faked, can
it?" The screen went to static, & Kathy walked back over, turning the tape
off with a vicious jab. "That arrogant fuck! Thinks he can do this to us."
the tirade died as she realized how badly off they were. Melissa was sobbing
on the couch, & after another moment, Kathy went to comfort her friend.
When Melissa had regained some control, Kathy stood & moved to the
telephone, paging through the binder lying beside the phone. When she picked
up, Melissa gasped, "What are you?" but Kathy held up a finger, then calmly
asked for soft drinks, bottled water, Caesar salads, and two of the
tremendously expensive entres. She hung up & smiled, "The least we can do
is enojoy the amenities before we see what the prick wants." Melissa couldn'
t hide her smile, though she wondered if they would pay in the end for the
defiance. "We're in trouble, aren't we?" Kathy nodded, then shrugged, "But
who knows, maybe he wants industrial secrets from our husbands or
 something." both women laughed, "Let's just wait & see what he says."

Part IV
	Dwayne had expected the call to be later, & wondered how or why the women
had gotten up when they had. He'd placed a 6AM wake-up call, & the ringing
of his own phone at just that time had confused him for a moment. Instead,
an angry but subdued female voice had said, "We're ready," & had hung up.
Nothing more. He'd gotten up, checked that he'd left nothing to identify him
in the room, then left, turning & walking away from the elevators toward the
far suite, where his new `girls' had been installed. One of the perks of his
job was comp time at several of the casinos, which aided in his `recruiting
efforts.' Vegas might be advertising itself as a family vacation spot, but
there were still the vices that had 1st brought Capone & his cronies around.
Dwayne made himself valuable to members of the mafia, the yakuza, the
Russians, Czechs, Poles, Columbians, & increasingly, Arabs, who while not
crime families, held women in different regard than the people in Europe &
North America. He didn't bother knocking, but let himself in with the
keycard, stepping into the room as if he owned it, which was the case. The
women were sitting on the couch, talking quietly to each other. Dwayne often
found his women thought they were being constantly watched, which would have
been impossible in a suite occasionally used by Royalty, but the illusion
was a handy one. He stopped, selecting a bottle of Jack Daniels from the
servi-bar before sitting opposite them. He casually threw a boot up onto his
knee & took a hit of the Jack, waiting for the women to speak.
	"What are we doing here?" the brunette flipped her hair angrily, though 
the
effect was comical as she sat in the hotel robe. "You're my guests, of
course. Well, that's not exactly true. Let's say you're now my employees.
