Chapter 18



Alex stared at the phone. It was only about the fifth call that had ever been received on this phone in the eleven or so months they had lived here, other than the ones from the credit card companies who always called at dinner time. There was no question in her mind that this was the call she was supposed to be waiting for. It had come sooner than she expected, but not soon enough, either. She wanted a resolution to her internal conflict. She needed to have only one man, not two. She needed a master. Harold had made his choice. So had she.

Alex dressed in the white dress she had altered. Harold had sounded pretty drunk on the phone. She wondered if he would even notice the changes she had made to it. Probably not. He hardly noticed anything when he was sober, but he would have needed to be nearly blind not to notice these alterations.

A pair of hose and some make up had arrived by messenger. No note. Just those items. Alex could take the hint. She applied what little make up she needed, but heavy where Mr. Smith liked it. Around the eyes and around her mouth. Her green eyes were flashing in the mirror. The lipstick color was new. It was brighter than she had worn for the photos. The makeup man had explained to her that a shade this bright would draw attention to her lips. He'd said that in her case, with her beautiful mouth and lips, that wasn't necessarily a bad thing. The only downside, he' said, was that the observer would miss the rest of her gorgeous face. He had said the nicest things to her.

She felt foolish pulling on her virginal white gloves and the little pill box hat. A look in the mirror confirmed her feeling. A hooker going to church. That's what it looked like. She laughed, and it felt good to her. She had laughed yesterday, too, with Alvin.

She was waiting outside the apartment building when the taxi pulled up and it was early. The cabbie knew exactly where to go and wouldn't take any money. He also couldn't keep his eyes on the road. They were glued to the mirror. To her face. Her lips.

She entered her code at the front door and walked into the now-familiar club. In her regular street clothes, the bartender, who had worked with her only three days ago when she was naked, didn't recognize her. Alvin did and he gave her a little hug. He had been told to keep her here, at the front for a few more minutes. As they were speaking, she thought she saw Harold with three guys. They were going into the men's room. But it couldn't have been Harold. She knew two of the others. Vinnie and Max. They were real losers that hung around here and did things for Mr. Smith. No way would Harold get mixed up with those two.

Even seeing them together with Harold, Alex' alarm bells didn't go off. She was too intent on seeing Mr. Smith. It had been two days and she was, well, horny.

Alex waved to the lady from the photo session, the beautiful lady that had posed with her. The lady seemed surprised to see her, but came over and chatted. Alex mentioned she was supposed to see Mr. Smith in a few minutes. Would she have time for a drink later? Alex really wanted to thank her for the other day. She had been so, well, kind to her. And stuff.

The lady just smiled and said that she'd wait for a while. She had some girls working here tonight and needed to take care of them. But if she was still here when Mr. Smith was finished with her, they'd have that drink. She was a nice lady.

Alvin pulled her inside the small security office, away from the crowd, away from the floorshow. Alex had already seen what those girls were doing on stage. She thought it was cute that Alvin was trying to protect her. They stood in silence, side by side. She wondered if Alvin had a hard on every night, like now.

They didn't see the four men walk down the hallway to the room just past the club office. The one with the one-way mirror. They didn't see the trim figure of the pretty lady that followed them into the room. Vinnie, Max and Harold were so intent on the one-way mirror, they didn't even notice her. The insurance guy thought she was part of the Mr. Smith's plan. Vinnie reached forward and flipped the toggle switch under the mirror down to the 'On' position.

Damon saw the tell-tale go on and called the front security kiosk. Alex was waiting. He told Alvin to send her down.

Damon's first thought as she walked into his office was that she was the perfect picture of an innocent slut. It was the gloves and hat. No. It was her. It's what she was. It stirred him and he was glad. When she was kneeling in front of him, he wanted to be so hard that he wanted it to spring out at her.

"Hello. You must be Mrs. Wilson. I'm Mr. Smith. Harold has told me so much about you."

If anything, he was counting on her quick mind at the moment. She had demonstrated that she was quick enough in the past. She didn't fail him.

Coming forward, she extended her hand. "Hello. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Smith." She copied his inflection and used the 'master' pronunciation. He grinned at her and winked with the eye the hidden observers couldn't see. She had noticed the telltale light was on when she came in. She knew this was for show.

"So Harold was telling me a bit about you two. I'm afraid he was a little drunk at the time, and he said some things that were perhaps a bit indiscrete."

"Oh, my. I hope that didn't cause you any discomfort."

She was looking right at his crotch. She had noticed the swelling and was licking her lips. Damon wondered how much they had told her on the telephone. Or how much she had guessed.

"No, no. Nothing I can't handle. But there was some talk of a bet, a silly man's thing. It's nothing really..." He let it hang, hoping she would continue to pick up on his cues.

"Oh, a bet? Those aren't silly. That's serious. It's a matter of honor. Is that why you wanted to see me? Is there anything I can do to help?"

God! She was perfect!

"Well, as a matter of fact there is. I don't mean to be crude, but Harold bet that you had the softest lips in the city."

She smiled brightly at him. "Oh, he was being silly. Would you like a kiss to prove it?"

"Well, I would like you to prove it, but not with a kiss."

"Then how, Mr. Smith? The only other way I know about is like this."

With that, Alex knelt in front of Mr. Smith and put her hands to his belt. He didn't stop her this time and she smiled up at him. It was a joke on Harold, and she didn't feel guilty at all. His zipper followed and Alex lowered his pants down past his knees to his ankles. His shorts followed.

"Oh, Mr. Smith. It's so beautiful. May I kiss it?"

"But of course, Mrs. Wilson. Tell me, do you do this often?"

"Oh, no. Never."

"Do you know how?"

"Well, I've seen pictures and I've heard stories, but I'm not real sure. Would you teach me, Sir?"

Looking down at those twinkling green eyes, Damon almost changed his mind about his plans for her. Almost. She'd pissed him off by not signing the ownership papers. No one had done that before. He still had to get that taken care of.

"Sure, I don't mind. See that drop of clear fluid. Lick that with the tip of your tongue."

"Ummm. That tastes good. Is there more?"

With a laugh, Damon began instructing this novice fellatrix in the joys of cock-sucking. He groaned as she applied herself with great enthusiasm, only needing to be warned once to watch her teeth. Soon her head was bobbing, taking more and more of him into her mouth.

He felt her gag as his fat cock reached the back of her throat, but she was prepared for this. She had watch the videos and seen those impossibly long cocks slide all the way down the girls' throats, completely swallowed by the girls. Deep-throating, the audio had called it. She had felt him in her body and knew he was large. As large as the plastic dildos the pretty lady had used on her if not bigger. For the last two days, she had practiced with a sausage she had gotten from the market. Her cheeks had burned when she had gone though the checkout line with just the sausage in her basket. She knew that everyone would guess what she wanted it for.

Staring at the wonderfully hard cock in front of her, Alex was a little afraid she had not gotten a big enough sausage to practice with. She would try to swallow this monster, but it would be a stretch.

When it hit the back of her throat, he had pushed a little. She hadn't been ready for that. The sausage hadn't been as anxious as Mr. Smith. It felt like he was trying to jump down her throat all at once. That was what made her gag.

"Am I supposed to swallow the whole thing, Sir?" she asked, taking the glistening cock out of her mouth.

"Yes, if you can. All good girls swallow the whole thing."

"OK, Sir. I'll try," she said and dove back down on him, this time relaxing her throat muscles and swallowing as the head plowed past her constricting epiglottis. She buried her nose in his pubic hair. Then she hummed.

Damon felt the vibrations of her vocal cords and the sensation surprised him. His cock swelled and his jism burst deep into her throat. Feeling him cum, she slowly backed off, keeping just the head of his prick in his mouth. She sucked him dry, swallowing it all. She wanted to be a good girl. He was amazed. For a first time blow job, that had been one of the best he had ever had.

When he had softened he pulled himself from her mouth. Her red lipstick smeared its length and had come off on her white gloves as she lovingly caressed the slowly deflating organ. It was an erotic sight. She kept sucking him until he pulled out. She wanted more.

"Did I do good, Sir?" she asked, looking up at him with an impish grin. She was proud of herself.

"That was very good, Mrs. Wilson. Perhaps you'd care to do it again sometime?"

"Oh yes, Sir! Now?"

He laughed, peeling her hands away from his groin. This had gone much better than he had hoped. Much better. He could just imagine the little bastard in the other room. Probably going out of his fucking mind. Well, now to put him out of his misery.

She remained kneeling as he pulled up his pants, whispering "Thank you, Sir" as their heads were together. It had been a wonderful game to her and she felt elated. She helped him buckle his belt, leaning forward as she finished and kissing the leather that had strangled her earlier in the week. He shook his head, stiffening again at her willing subservience.

"If you can stay for a minute, Mrs. Wilson, I have some business to attend to. Do you mind?"

"Oh, no, Sir. I'll stay right here." She moved to kneel in her spot beside his big desk.

Damon busied himself at the bar for moment, handing her a drink as he left the office.

Harold had smirked when Alex had walked into the office nest door. What a fucking prude. A good looking prude, he corrected himself. There was something different about the dress. It looked, well, sexier, somehow. Or was it the way she walked. She looked, well, sexier than he remembered. But she was wearing her silly little hat and those stupid gloves. Who did she think she was, the Virgin Mary? She sure as fuck acted like it.

Vinnie and Max had been ready when Harold had jumped out of his chair when Alex had knelt in front of Mr. Smith and started to undo his pants. Or, at least, he tried to jump up. The insurance guy had his hands just above Harold's shoulders, too. He didn't have a chance. They tied his arms to the arms of the chair he was sitting in. In a touch of irony, it was the same chair Alex had first been bound into when she had come to the club searching for a way to save her marriage.

The two men on each side of the enraged husband used wide nylon bands that wouldn't leave any marks to bind his arms. They did his legs, too. Too many of these guys kicked like girls.

Harold had accepted the ties, eventually. It had been a bet, after all. He shouldn't be a sore loser. But that Mr. Smith! That fucker was deformed! Huge! No one could be that big. He had started yelling through the mirror when she had licked the tip of that huge schlong with her tongue. He was going to fucking lose. That couldn't be his wife. It was an actress, a double. This was all a joke. He tried to make them understand. That wasn't Alex in there deep-throating that guy. It couldn't be.

The three men had laughed with him. Or laughed at him. He wasn't so sure. It sounded sort of cruel. Alex, if that was Alex, was carrying the joke way too far. She couldn't have taken him that far down her throat. It was an optical illusion, it had to be. The mirror was a trick mirror.

The guys weren't laughing any more. They were as fascinated by the sight in front of them as he was. It wasn't fake. They weren't faking it. Oh, God. Alex. That could have been him, taking her mouth. It should have been. That cunt Marcy couldn't hold a fucking candle to that beautiful woman in the other room. That was his wife, damn it.

Harold heard the man's groan and saw his wife gulp and swallow the copious ejaculate. She kept his prick in her mouth far longer than necessary. Come on. Stop already! It was just a fucking little bet. Get off your knees! Get up, go home. I'll be there as soon as I check out of the hotel. I'm coming, darling...

Damon strolled into the next room. He felt rather proud of himself. He saw the red-faced balding paunchy man. That had to be Harold. Then he saw the Dom standing in the corner, clapping sardonically. He was surprised to see her, but it gave him a thrill, too, to have been seen to be so masterful, especially by his next pet. It would make it all the more sweet when she was on her knees. Oh, life was good.

"Hello, Harold. I'm Mr. Smith. That's OK, don't get up. I won't keep you long. I just stopped in to thank you for handing me your wife on a silver platter. I couldn't have asked for a better parting gift."

Harold sputtered but was speechless.

"I wanted to thank you for participating in our little insurance scam, too, Harold. Without you, I have to say it wouldn't have been possible. And since you were such an integral part of the plan, I wanted to share with you just how it's going to go from here."

Damon walked over to the man strapped in the chair. For a second it looked as if he was going to put his hand on the man's shoulder in a comradely gesture. Then at the last minute, his hand darted towards the man's neck and the syringe was emptied into his neck. It happened so fast that three of the observers never saw it happen. The Dom did. She had seen his cupped hand when he had come in the door. The same way she cupped hers to hide a needle. She had lots of practice.

Harold gave a sudden twitch and his eyes rolled up into his head. Slowly they rolled back down, unfocused, but still seeing. Damon knelt in front of him and started undoing the straps that bound him. The three men were surprised when Harold didn't try to get up.

"I'm going to tell you your future, you little piece of shit. You're going to sit here and watch while I go back in that room and fuck your wife. Then she's going to suck me hard again and I'm going to fuck her again. In the ass. Just for you, asshole. When that's done, you're going to go get ready for your trip to the islands. Vinnie and Max here are going to take you downstairs and put on your swimming trunks. Then they're going to put you in a big tank of salt water.

"You're going to drown, Harold, in the basement. But don't worry. We're going to take you to the islands. We still have to collect on the insurance, now, don't we?

"Oh, you were so fucking smart. You had it all figured out. You thought you couldn't lose, didn't you. Well, you little fuck, you lose."

On his way out, the Dom caught his arm. "You want some help in there with the little bitch?"

Damon eyed her. "You'd like that, wouldn't you? Are you after her cunt or my cock?"

"A little of both, I guess," she teased him. "But I'd settle for your cock."

"Stick around, then. You can stay and watch if you like, but it won't be anything fancy. I imagine you want to see to your girls. Thanks, by the way, for letting us use them. I didn't know lesbians were such good cock suckers. How'd you do it?"

"Oh, I have my secrets, too," she said, drawing a sharp fingernail down the side of his face. "I'll see you later. I promise."

She grinned. Unless that bitch kneeling in the other room was totally out of it, the perfume she had just scented him with would cause her some serious doubts. Guys had no clue when it came to aromatic warfare. This dick was no different. She settled in to watch for a while. She was impressed. Now she really wanted the girl.

Alex was kneeling in the other room. She had been euphoric, basking in Mr. Smith's praise. It had been a fun game. A little cruel, maybe, but Harold already had another woman. Marcy. She hoped they would be happy together. It was the way she was.

She had sipped a little of the strong drink Mr. Smith had given her, but it wasn't what she needed. She liked the salty, manly taste of him in her mouth and the flavor of the whiskey burned that out. She reached up to put in on his desk and nearly spilled it.

The bottle. It had been moved. It had been aligned when she came in. Oh, God. Harold! With a sickening knot in her stomach, she knelt and clutched her arms around her body. She didn't know for sure, but she knew. She knew. It had been Vinnie and Max with him before. Vinnie and Max had taken care of Lewis. Oh, God!

This wasn't a game anymore. She didn't want to play. She was going to be sick. She grabbed her arms, pinching herself. Get a hold of yourself! You knew it was dangerous. So did Harold. From the time you saw the size of the policy. Harold's a big boy. He can take care of himself. He knew the risks.

And she didn't really know for sure that Mr. Smith had the needle. Maybe he had just bumped the bottle. Of course Harold was alive. He had to be. He couldn't pick up the money if he wasn't. They still needed him, and she had protected him by changing the accounts. That was it. He was OK, laughing in the next room.

Alex talked her way through her panic. It was too late now, anyway. And she still needed something from Mr. Smith. Now more than ever. She had willingly started to severe her ties with Harold. Maybe a divorce wasn't impossible. Her family would understand. Daddy would.

The scent of that woman struck her as Mr. Smith walked into the room. She looked behind him for her, hope in her heart. She wouldn't have minded her being here. She wasn't behind him, but she had been in that other room. Watching her. With Harold. More to the point, she had been in there with Mr. Smith.

"Come, pet. Dance for me."

The music started and as if drawn into its seductive beat Alex danced. She tossed her parochial little hat and her catechism gloves across the room. She was done with that part of her life. Gone. It was gone forever. She could never go back to her church. She would be a tainted woman when the divorce was final.

Her silky dress was off in a hurry. There was an urgency, a desperation to this dance. Alex wanted to get naked and get fucked. Now.

Mr. Smith threw her the black cord when her bra and panties were gone. She looped it around her neck and handed him the ends. Then lowering herself to her knees, she began stripping him of his clothes. He let her remove his clothes then turned her around and tied her arms behind her back.

He lifted her onto the large desk and set her on her knees. Then he got on the table himself and lay back. In a flash she was poised over his loins, capturing the tip of his cock in the mouth of her vagina and impaling herself on his hardness. She forgot to ask permission and he didn't correct her. Her need was infectious.

Alex screamed and began sobbing, the sexual release immediate and continuous. She thrust her body up and down his length, now working for his pleasure. She screamed as he slapped her tits as they bounced up and down with her efforts. He was not gentle and she egged him on. More, she demanded of him. More, harder.

He came inside her and she wept. She had pleased him.

Mr. Smith urged her off of him. "Suck," he said. "Clean me and suck."

Alex complied eagerly. He would give her more! Her tongue laved over his semi-hard organ. She sucked his testicles into her mouth and cleaned them. He gave no response to her efforts. It wasn't until she chased a trickle of her fluids down the crack of his ass and licked his asshole that he showed further signs of life. Seeing that twitch, Alex buried her face in his ass, urging his knees up and out so she could get in and lick. Finally, when it was almost hard, Alex took it once more into her mouth and down her throat. Then she hummed.

She hummed the song she had hummed when Petunia died. The one she hummed when she was looking for the bugs in the storage room. It was a nursery rhyme. She didn't remember the words. Just the tune her Daddy had hummed, over and over to her at night.

Mr. Smith pulled her off of him when he was finally hard. The humming had worked again. He positioned her on her knees and pressed her head against the desk. With only her spit for lubrication, he stood on the floor behind her and rammed his hard cock up her asshole. She screamed, in pain now, the pleasure burned from her mind. That hadn't happened before. Now she could tell the difference. Now it just plain hurt.

Then her body betrayed her once more. The rhythmic filling and emptying of her body, even in that particular cavity stimulated the basic core of her brain. Endorphins flooded her blood stream and she became aroused, despite the pain. But not because of it, this time.

Mr. Smith lasted a long time before coming in her ass. He used his bare hands to strangle her to help him cum, leaving deep bruises in her neck. Alex came, too, at the end. She cried when he pulled out.

She cleaned him and he untied her. He put the black cord in her special drawer in the desk. Her old cast iron bra and granny panties were still in there. It seemed such a long time ago when she had surrendered them to him. So long ago.

She knelt, waiting because he had told her to wait. Someone would come. She hoped it was Alvin.

Vinnie and Max carried Harold downstairs to the third basement. Once there, the paralyzed man was stripped and dressed in his own swimwear. They laid him in a large tubular frame that could be hoisted up and over the big tank of water. The frame had a lid that could be closed, trapping whoever was in it. The frame was still wet, but Harold hardly noticed. For sure, he didn't complain.

The two goons hoisted him up and over the large saltwater tank. He was lowered in, without visible protest. The only sign of life he gave were the bubbles that were his last breath. On his next breath, Harold inhaled sea water.

For all intents and purposes, Harold had just drowned in the ocean.

Vinnie and Max waited the half hour the boss had said to wait. Then they hauled the dead man back out of the tank. Splashing in the water that pooled on the floor, the two lifted the lid of the frame and heaved the deadweight into a sitting position. Max held his arms out while Vinnie fitted and fastened a bright orange life vest on him. The words "SS Big Break - Miami, FL" were stenciled in fresh black ink on the fabric of the new jacket.

Dragging him by his armpits and his ankles, the two men butt-bounced Harold over to the huge walk-in freezer. Max got the corpse in a fireman's carry and staggered under the deadweight into the depths of the huge freezer. Vinnie took a meat hook and slipped it through the loop in the back panel of the life preserver. Max eased down, out from under Harold, letting the meat hook take the weight of the man.

The two looked at their handiwork. They were satisfied. The body was lying like it would if it were face down in the water. Not straight up and down, but with the torso at a slight angle, the arms and legs dangling straight down. Any postmortem lividity studies would show he had died in this position.

They closed the freezer door, leaving Harold swaying gently in frigid repose next to a smaller, big-titted bikini clad figure. She had put up a good fight, but Marcy was going to the Islands with Harold after all.

Night Shade

Chapter 19