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| Stories Bingo’s Home Bingo’s Lair |
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The Urinal — Part 2 Chapters 17 and 18 |
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17. Val called Cunt and told her, "We won't be back until the morning. Can you manage by yourself?" Cunt paused for a minute. "What are you doing?" "A secret. I have a present for you." "A better offer than Club's?" "A little present. Something to wear." "I have a present for you. My ass still hurts." "Captain Pissgums is a rough fellow." "Captain Pissgums?" "Before your time. From the old Zap comics." "It's not funny, Val." "It is if your ass isn't sore. You should have said something." "I did." "Everything was happening so quickly I must have missed it. Do you think Em's ass ever hurts?" "Of course it does." "Why doesn't she say anything? Would O complain to René or Sir Stephen? Say like, 'You know the man who used me all night, both ends, that really hurt.' " "She's a literary character, she's not real, Val." "But you think of her a lot." "Less and less." "Ah, sweet disillusionment. Cunt. Your ass is supposed to hurt every now and again. If you want to go through with this you need to realize it's not all orgasms." "Not when you're concerned." "I'm hurt." "I don't think you care, not really." "All this is because we're not coming home tonight?" "Because she's not coming home. Em, not you." "If you're not too busy you could join us." "I'm too busy and you know it. I have to sit on my sore ass and work while you two are having fun." "We'll think of you." "Why don't you stop by Club's parlor and see if he'd be willing to lop off three inches or so." "Em wouldn't like that." "Ask her." "Should I get three inches lopped off, Em? Yes or maybe." "See if she nods." "You are allowed two beers tonight, Cunt. You may finger yourself. You may even sleep in our bed." "How about a friend?" "No friends, Cunt. Sorry." "O-kay." "Don't hold up breakfast for our sakes." "Have a good time." "You have a good time, Cunt." She made a kissing sound; he hung up the phone. "Ready?" he said to Em. Em nodded. She wore her new dress with spaghetti straps that she'd found a Goodwill. He'd taken it for her when he went in to get her at Dirty Danny's. Val took her hand, led her into the restaurant, a Mexican place they'd not been to yet. After dinner and a quick stop at Kinko's, he drove them to a hotel on the edge of town, by the highway, favored by truckers and transients. The rooms were clean and no one paid much attention if a bunch of cars pulled in, the parking lot was large. Val got two rooms, next to each other. "I think we need to check out tattoo parlors, don't you?" The girl shrugged. She pointed to her mouth, began to lift her dress hem. "Soon," Val said. "Tattoo parlors first." She shrugged. He held her hand at stoplights and they drove to places he'd noticed. One was in a small strip mall, a neat and tidy shop. The other was in a former gas station. Someone had painted the walls with an exuberant mural, part graffiti, part manga. The third was out of business, a residence with a sign out front in a commercial district. Em liked both; Val thought either would fit their needs. "Let's have an ice cream," Val said. Em looked at him, said, "Ummm?" She lifted her dress higher. "When you first did that, it drove me crazy. You know that? You and I are going to drive around first and then we are going to the hotel and we'll spend the night. Like a normal couple." "Ummm." She thrust her finger in her mouth. "Well, it is Saturday night, isn't it? But not here, not now." "Umph." "Have I ever let you down?" She nodded. "Other than right now?" She nodded. She slapped her bare leg. "Other than then. Okay. I've let you down a few times. Your choice. We have ice cream, drive around, go back to our hotel room, and you know what. Or, two, I can drop you off wherever you desire. You can do whatever you want. I'll go back to the hotel room, give you the key to the other. One or two?" She shrugged. She held up a finger, jabbed it in her mouth. "Ummm?" "Will you get it if you hang out with me? I promise you. You might do better with two." She thought. After a couple of minutes she held up a single finger. "Good. We can still do two if you're disappointed." "Ummm." She pointed to her mouth. "I've fallen in love with you. You know that, don't you?" She shrugged, looked away from him. He didn't say any more until they were in the ice cream shop. He took a pen from his pocket, slid it across the table to her. "You're going to have to do the rest of this." He opened a Kinko's bag. "You need to add a time, nine or ten p.m. I think ten is better. And a room number, thirty-two." She looked at the slips of paper, raised her eyes to his and smiled. She put the pen in her mouth and arched her eyebrows. "I certainly hope so." She filled in the slips which said: "I'm very attractive, very female and very horny. Use me. Tonight. Room ____ at the Walker Lodge on the highway, from ____ to three a.m. Bring your friends." At the bottom in smaller print: "I don't use condoms -- you should." She fanned the stack of slips of paper. "There are more than enough. Give them to whoever strikes your fancy." She took the pen out of her mouth, filled in the time and room number and handed him one." "Why, thank you, miss. I believe I will." She grinned and wiggled in her seat. "The sooner you fill them out, the sooner you can pass them out." She nodded and went to work. The area around the hotel was the rougher side of town. It was outside of city limits so there were strip clubs and rundown bars. Val parked the car in front of The Rocking Horse. "I can stay here or go in with you." She left the car without looking at him. There was an even chance she'd stay here. It depended on how demure she acted and how goal-oriented she could be. The moment she wanted was one that he barely understood enough to facilitate. Cunt was too intellectual. She desired the same thing as Em but had to have it within a framework she could analyze to death, which destroyed the moment. Em came out, got in the car and grinned. "Next stop?" She nodded, pointed to her mouth. "Ummm." He parked in the next strip club's parking lot. "I want to watch you." Em was already out of the car; he followed her in. He paid his cover charge, found a seat. The noise and lights were frenetic. He saw Em move through the tables quickly passing out slips. Now and again someone would question her. She ignored one man, for another she lifted her dress in a revealing flash. She came to his table and sat down. "Ready?" He knew she couldn't hear him. She nodded, rose to her feet. He led her to the car. "Any left?" She had a handful. He drove to a truck stop next to the hotel. "I need a coffee. Hold still a minute." Val took the pen out of his pocket and wrote "Use Me" on her forehead. "Give me your dress." She pulled it over her head, handed it to him. He tossed it into the back seat. "Lock the doors, okay?" He kissed her hard, left the car. He sat in the restaurant with his coffee, watching her thorugh the big window. She moved in the car, over the seats, against the windows like she was a snake in an aquarium. She knew he was watching, pressed herself against the windshield showing him breasts and then her butt. She pulled the cheeks apart, pressed them against the glass which was more funny than erotic to watch. She disappeared from view in the back seat. He could only imagine what she was doing there. He finished his coffee, left a tip and went to the restroom. He set the remaining slips by the edge of the sink, washed his hands and left. The car was unlocked; he sat behind the wheel. "Ready, sweetheart?" She gave a long moan from the back seat. "Only a half hour before nine. Can you wait?" That was an unfair question. She licked his ear while he drove and parked in front of their rooms. 18. The past two hours had been a nightmare. Val woke and he was alone in bed. He thought Em had fallen asleep in the room next to this one and hadn't worried. She'd been happily in her element last night; doing exactly what she wanted to be doing. He dressed, went next door and the room was empty, showing disorder. The box they'd set on the dresser for help with the room had money in it. But Em was gone. He was sure there was an explanation but after hours of searching, talking to the staff at the restaurant next door, thinking of something -- like he should check the car, doing it and still nothing. Dark thoughts were beginning to take over. He called the apartment. "Megan?" "She's not here. This is Cunt speaking. I can give her a message." "Have you heart from Em?" It was quiet on the other end of the line. "She's missing." "You've lost your slut, Val? How gauche." "It's not a joke, Megan." "Cunt. Remember?" "It's not a joke. Megan. Have you heard anything?" "Have you checked the lost and found?" "I'm not in the mood, Megan." "Cunt." "You'll call me if you hear something?" "Where are you?" "You know the number." "Maybe I don't. What is it?" "You know the number. I'm staying here and searching. I'll stop by tonight." "You'd better. I want to be tucked in." "Eat, get clothes for tomorrow and stay out here. I'm sure I'll find her, but." "I want to be tucked in." "Megan, I'm worried, upset, and don't want to deal with this. You're not helping." "Oh goody. I get spanked before you tuck me in." "Megan." "Cunt. Remember? I'm Cunt. You're the boss who lost your slut, whatshername." "Cunt, then. You'll call me?" "Maybe." "What are you doing?" "Talking to you. What are you doing?" "Getting angry." "Ooooh." She paused. "You know, my ass still hurts." "Good." He hung up. Megan was sometimes a pain. He thought he'd go back over where they'd been yesterday. He wanted to walk the neighborhood, such as it was. He needed to do something other than begin thinking out all his worst fears. She was taken by someone. That one could range from borrowed for a few hours to raped and murdered. She could have left on her own. He didn't think she had but it was a possibility. She seemed happy last night but maybe she had a reason or had found someone else. She hadn't taken her clothes. Her dress was still in the car, the Goodwill clothes in a bag in the trunk, her miniskirt and hoodie in a bag with a complimentary issue of Barely Legal from Dirty Danny's in the room he'd slept in. Her high heel pumps were in the car. Being naked on main street was nothing to Em. It was entirely possible she went somewhere, out for a walk without a stitch on though he thought it was too chilly for that. She'd certainly leave the hotel with someone naked; she had gone that way with him the first time from Rudy's. If someone had taken her, he thought they would have wrapped her in a sheet or towel and there was nothing missing from her room. No blood, no signs of struggle other than the gangbang last night. No broken furniture. The thing that made him believe she'd gone on her own was her bag of used condoms was missing too. Last night had exceeded his expectations and if he'd known what the morning would bring he would have called the whole thing off in spite of how upset she'd be. Em on the bed, on the floor, in the bath tub, taking on as many as possible. He'd stayed with her until three thirty when he could take or do no more. He wasn't the watching type and although Em's performance was never boring, he became quickly bored. There were seven others in the room, three on the bed with her, the rest cheering them on. She'd smiled at him throughout the night; showed him mouthfuls of cum before swallowing, or grinned while those using her changed positions. Those using her. Em had, he was already thinking in the past tense, a spirit and will which they never saw. She was intelligent; they liked the fact that she didn't talk. She was beautiful in a dynamic, always dramatic, way, using her body to express herself. They saw a white trash whore moving mechanically. Val knew he himself was equally at fault for not seeing her. There were so many times that first week when he wanted nothing more than that she'd leave or someone would take her off his hands. If he didn't come up with anything, he'd print out photos of her tonight. Make flyers with a telephone number and description. Flyers. He'd tried to get her to carry a card, what he called the get out of jail free card. He'd made a business card sized ID for her: "Hi. My name is Em. I don't talk. If I give this to you or you find it, please call my friend Valentine Stanos at 388-9746. Thank you." She'd leave it places. In the apartment, the car, or when they were out. She came to him with nothing except that steel collar. She was gone with the steel collar and a bag or two of used condoms. What people must think. He was stupid. He'd known all along, but he'd never thought it would happen like this. Gone. Not a word from her. No message. Nothing. And that's if she was okay. If the worst happened, she was taken from him. He'd started out wanting to help her. He believed eventually that the best way to help her was to provide a safety net for her. A home. A person who liked her. Friends. It was a skewed sort of safety, within a framework she'd accept. It had to be or she would have left. And if she'd left last night then it meant he'd done it wrong and he couldn't imagine how. Last night was what she wanted. The men in the dressing room at Goodwill, the men at Danny's, and later the men at the hotel. The fact that the bag of condoms was gone meant he'd done something right. And then a spooky thought came. Unless someone was afraid of DNA evidence. He needed to do something other than sit on the bed and think. He'd reserved the rooms for two nights more on the off chance, left the other room unlocked for her. He stood, looked around the hotel room and left. He walked up the busy street toward town. There were residences in the blocks on either side of the businesses on this street. The businesses were mostly in concrete block structures, converted. Some of the strip clubs looked like they had been stores or restaurants previously. Sheets of plywood covered what must have been large windows. There was a second hand tire store, a convenience store, the only thing open on Sunday, and a small motel on the opposite side of the street that looked like it had been built in the 40s or 50s. The people who lived around here had to go miles to shop for groceries. Cigarettes they could get at the convenience store or at one of the gas stations on the highway. He walked a long distance; at least it felt that way. It was probably less than a half mile. There was such a huge area to cover. He'd walk the streets until he became tired and then he'd drive up and down the highway checking rest stops and interchanges. If she wasn't there, or in the neighborhood of the hotel. If she wasn't on the street, naked waiting for him, and he realized she probably wasn't. He'd do it again and more. Searching was all he could do. Calling hospitals and the police was pretty much out. At this stage at least. Then he thought maybe it wasn't. He'd use the phone book in the hotel room when he got back. She had no ID but she was heavily tattooed. That would help. He remembered Club tattooing her legs, her inner thighs. More fish, swirling upward in the churning waves. The bright colors and black shading from a distance looked like colored stockings. A fish disappeared at the crease of her thigh, where it met her vulva, in a dramatic splash. That was the part usually covered by her clothes. Her pussy itself was undecorated. On her stomach below her navel was one of Club's earlier unfinished designs, swirling geometric figures in black ink over another almost indistinguishable tattoo, just the words, "Fuck Me." This neighborhood was desolated. The houses, even those in good repair, looked run down. The children playing in the street looked like they were, he didn't know the correct word. Retarded. They didn't look right. The cars were older, adorned with bondo and rust. No girl. He couldn't imagine her here and then he could. In the bushes somewhere, not to be furtive, but because that's where she'd been left. She was still alive. She needed him if he could only find her. Part
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