Chapter 2

"I want you to follow instructions," Bart replied. "I think we ought to get a little deeper into things before everybody makes a lot of promises -- but I've already told you what I'm offering. Take off your top." He released her and she stepped away and turned to face him, but didn't move immediately. He eyed her for a moment. "When you stop doing what you're told, we're done."

It was as if they were the only two people in the room. There were Bart's eyes and Bridgette's eyes and noise and clamor and jostling people didn't exist. Bridgette could see the clock ticking in Bart's eyes -- he'd made his investment and was waiting for it to bear fruit. She was amazed at the confidence and control he displayed. She grasped her top and pulled it over her head, tossing it onto the floor without looking where it went.

Shannon stared at her friend and the man whose eyes were mapping her friend's breasts, then unfroze to collect the item of clothing before it got trampled and shredded by the standing room only crowd. Neither of them paid the least bit of attention.

Bart held his poker face and managed not to sigh in relief. It was one thing to make demands of business associates in the context of a project and quite another to order a woman to remove her clothing in public! But she needed to pass this test -- and he needed to, too -- and he needed to see those breasts, anyway.

They were nice. They were wide, puffy cones well anchored to Bridgette's sizeable ribcage -- not huge given the scale of the woman they were mounted on, but good-sized nonetheless. The areolas made pink, puffy caps (he LOVED that look) and while the nipples didn't seem to be too big at the moment, he suspected that they were more than adequate. If the rest of Bridgette was even close, she would do -- especially considering his already acquired feel for her sexual response! He got himself completely under control, and said, "My turn, I think. Why don't you take a look at the physical part of my offering?"

The way the request was put confused Bridgette for a moment; she wasn't at her best, anyway, given the amount of alcohol she'd ingested in the previous ninety minutes. She blinked a couple of times, then went "Oh!" when Bart glanced at his midsection, but there was no resistance in her as she went to her knees before him.

Embarrassment set in and she glanced around as she reached for the zipper of his slacks. Where was Shannon? What must she be thinking? Then the zipper itself demanded her attention and she focused fully on what she was doing. Slacks. Not jeans, not Dockers -- slacks. They were an unusual choice for a dance club -- but easier to work with... Gingerly, she reached inside the man's fly. Briefs -- with what seemed to be a telephone pole inside! How on Earth did he get this out to pee? She looked up at Bart, stymied.

Bart was a little embarrassed, but he was at full extension and clothing was only so forgiving. "I guess you'll have to take them down."

Bridgette moved to Bart's belt and her fingers brushed something -- something damp! She leaned up a bit and peered down -- at the pinkish purple tip of Bart's cock, peeking out above the waistband of his slacks and weeping pre-cum! Wide-eyed, she looked up at Bart's face, then attacked the belt again with shaking fingers, thinking, 'Omigod!'

Shannon watched this byplay in fascination from over Bridgette's left shoulder. 'Okay,' she thought, 'surely this guy doesn't have anything huge in the way of a dick! Bridgette's acting like... OMIGOD!' Bridgette got Bart's pants open, revealing the fact that his entire glans stood above the waistband of his tightie-whities. She watched as Bridgette grabbed the sides of Bart's underwear and pulled the waistband away and down his wiry-looking thighs. The anaconda in Bart's crotch descended only to a forty-five degree angle from the vertical and hung there, bobbing and weaving, staring at Shannon through its single eye. Shannon glanced away, looking for something to bring it into scale. It couldn't be THAT big, could it? Her eyes lit on the exposed erection of the dancer on stage -- a respectable seven inch dong, she figured. The one Bridgette was wrapping her hand around the base of was a good glans-length longer and somewhat thicker...

Bridgette was shaking like a leaf as she wrapped her fingers reverently around the shaft. Her real-life experience with cocks was limited to this venue -- but she'd seen all of the dancers' equipment and knew that they were all a bit above average, anyway -- the long-haired young Mick Jagger-looking one did better than that. She'd seen big black cock -- and even big white cocks -- in video -- but never one this size in real life! This was a king cobra of cocks! She had big hands for a girl, but could almost get both of hers around this thing! She gazed up at Bart, amazed...

Bart looked back, smiling. This was Bart's other secret weapon -- one that unfortunately he too seldom got a chance to deploy. The two or three 'escorts' he'd paid for in his time (he didn't even THINK to employ cheap hookers) had been agog -- but then they didn't really count, did they? They could have been lying, but then he'd seen a few other cocks and knew he had eight out of ten on the run... Bridgette's gaze was absolutely worshipful. Even more heartening was the collective 'Ooooo!" that chorused from a dozen female witnesses -- including Bridgette's corpulent girlfriend, who looked to be almost drooling. "Kiss it," Bart directed.

The directive was music to Bridgette's ears! Just holding the hot, firm shaft in her hands bled calm and satisfaction into her through her palms. When -- not if -- this monster penetrated her womanhood, it was going to come out her mouth -- and she was looking forward to tasting it that way! But for now... She lowered her lips over the crown of it, her tongue diving into the slit to collect the nectar weeping from it.

Bart hissed in a breath. The pleasure was almost intolerable. Bart's sex life wasn't much, if any, better than Bridgette's -- and maybe worse, since he wasn't gay and wasn't getting even same-sex pleasures. "I might cum!" he hissed. "I'm very aroused!"

Bridgette removed her mouth only long enough to gaze up at him through big, bright eyes. "Please?" Then she rolled her lips over his glans and over the flange to the sensitive area at the juncture of it and the shaft, her tongue instinctively washing the most sensitive spots on his penis.

"YAAAAAH!" Bart grabbed Bridgette's shoulders while he erupted -- copiously. This wasn't your average teaspoonful of ejaculate; Bridgette choked as it hosed the back of her throat and it foamed out around the corners of her mouth on both sides before she got control of it! Bart erupted five times in her mouth before his output tailed off and he settled back to merely pulsing. Bridgette swallowed a thick, chewy mouthful of the product before holding the remainder in her mouth to use as a wash for his still pulsing penis. This was apples and oranges to her previous experiences with cock sucking -- or maybe apples to something overripe, since the difference was so marked... She backed off when Bart waved that he couldn't stand the intensity, licking at the spillage at the corners of her mouth. Dark tendrils tickled the right side of her neck and a familiar voice husked reverently, "Holy shit!"

Shannon was hunched beside her, her head hanging over her shoulder, gazing raptly at Bart's cock. She turned to face Bridgette as the big girl turned to face her and murmured, "Hold still," then took Bridgette's head in her hands and leaned in to lick at the dregs running to her chin from the corner of her mouth. "Gawd, did you save any?" Bridgette smiled and nodded and Shannon unashamedly leaned in to collect her lips and suck a snowball from Bridgette's mouth. "Omigod! That's wonderful!" she gurgled.

"That was leftovers!" Bridgette giggled. She was giddy. A few minutes before, she'd been angry and frustrated -- but now... Now she was excited!

She wasn't the only one -- Bart looked around to discover nearly a dozen women dancing distractedly and drinking while they watched the byplay between Bart and Bridgette, murmuring comments about Bart's sexual equipment. Bart wasn't going down in Bridgette's hands -- he was still firm and at full extension. Suddenly, a thick bleached blonde woman danced in and tried to lower her mouth over Bart's cock.

"Hey!" Bridgette howled, thinking 'Oh, no, not again!' This kind of thing had happened regularly earlier in the evening when she was courting dancers and caused instant distress.

Bart, however, swept the woman back. "This is a private party!" he declared, glaring at the woman.

"Well, all right..." Embarrassed, the woman backed off.

Bart looked down at Bridgette, whose face positively glowed with gratitude. She was slowly jacking his shaft, and with his erection freed she rubbed it on her face. After a moment, she looked up at Shannon, and then shifted her gaze to Bart. "Shannon...?" she asked.

Bart frowned and pursed his lips. "I'll think about it. There is only so much of me to go around. She will have to abide by the rules, in any case." He glanced around. "Let's go somewhere less noisy and crowded," he suggested, waving at a quieter corner near the end of the bar.

"Rules?" Shannon asked when they got there and she could lean in to be heard. It still wasn't quiet. Bart, standing with his back to the wall, looked out over the crowd. There were at least three girls in various places bent over and being fucked. The one black dancer on site had two women taking turns nodding over his cock -- and there were girls behind, watching. In fact, there were girls watching everywhere, some in disgust and some in fascination and some impatiently waiting for whoever was in front of them to get out of the way so they could participate. Bart watched one chunky girl giving head -- to Ed, he realized -- while another pushed her onto Ed's cock from behind, palming the back of her head and pushing her deep onto Ed's shaft. Ed wasn't complaining. Girls were undressing one another, dumping drinks on one another, fondling one another... Bart dragged his attention back to the women in front of him -- not that he had ever let go of Bridgette. He still didn't know the names of either of them. The fat dark-haired girl -- oh, hold it -- Shannon? -- was a complication. Well, perhaps the rules would remove the problem... "There is only one rule, actually," Bart declared. "What I say goes. Period."

Shannon blinked. "That's a serious rule."

"I'm serious about it," Bart replied. "Break it and see what happens."

"What's the flip side?" Shannon asked, wondering 'Why isn't Bridgette asking these questions?'

"What am I offering?" Bart clarified. Shannon nodded. "A relationship." He paused. "I really wasn't prepared to offer two..."

"Oh." Shannon took it like a slap.

Bart wasn't looking at her -- he was frowning at the floor. "It would tend to complicate things. You two would have to cooperate with one another and share. I really didn't plan..." He looked up. "Is there some reason why you shouldn't be separated?"

"We're living together," Bridgette made her first entry into the conversation.

"Oh." Bart absorbed this. After a moment, he turned to Bridgette. "My original offer was to you. I don't think it is my place to tell you that you must give up that sole position. I will not insist that you share -- I think it devalues my offer and suggests that I'm shallow and not serious." He paused a moment. "But if you want to volunteer to share, I will try to make it work. The decision is yours."

Shannon frowned. "May we...?" She waved indicating that she wanted to take Bridgette a few feet away for privacy.

"Certainly." Bart sighed. This had gone so well -- but this Shannon was likely to screw things up. Ultimately, it might be necessary to go looking for his second candidate...

"You didn't say anything back there," Shannon pressed Bridgette, flicking a glance at Bart. "What has he promised you?"

Bridgette thought about it. "Comfort and protection," she recounted the list. "Pleasure and joy. And love, even."

"When was this?"

"While he... held me."

"Anything else?"

"He said... Well, it was words to the effect that he would fuck me -- regularly," Bridgette mused.

"Well, that's a start..." Shannon flicked a glance at Bart's waistline. His pants were more or less done up again, but she knew what was behind that fly... "What does he want?"

"To be the boss," Bridgette replied. "Total control. He said..." She squinted at the ceiling while she recalled his words, "There must never be a question which of us is in control -- you must obey my wishes in all things."

Shannon wrinkled her nose. "That's, like, slavery!"

"If he delivers, what's so bad about it?" Bridgette burst out. "You haven't..."

"What did he do to you?"

"He just... took control. One moment I was giving him crap, and the next he was sucking my neck and little chills were running all over my body! And then..."

"And then what?"

"And then he described our situation as if he'd been watching us through binoculars for a month -- that's what he did!" Bridgette snapped. "He called me a damned liar and... a big, unhappy girl who wasn't getting any male attention and had settled on you for emotional support!"

"Maybe he has been watching!" Shannon mused.

"Then how come he didn't know we live together?"

Shannon shook her head. "This is pretty freaky..."

"So you would pass it up?" Bridgette snapped.

"I think I would want to know more!"

"Look, you haven't..." Just the memory provoked a shudder from Bridgette.

"No, I haven't," Shannon agreed. "But maybe you're TOO close!"

"Not yet I'm not!" Bridgette declared.

Shannon puffed a sigh. "You're doing this." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, I am!"

"And if I opt out..." Shannon gazed at her friend. She didn't have to finish the thought. There would be a breakup.

"Yes."

Something this crazy guy had done or said had Bridgette beyond reason. The only thing to do was to hang in there and find out what it was. "Okay, I'm in -- but I'm suspicious, okay?"

"Okay." Bridgette turned and made her way back to Bart. "I'll share. We ARE partners, sort of."

Bart turned to Shannon. "But you're not lesbians."

"No." Shannon looked away, embarrassed. "Sort of bisexual..."

"Fine." Bart treated it as irrelevant. It might even make things easier. "We need to move on. Since there are two of you, it's even more important that we ensure compatibility and that we understand each other." He turned to Bridgette. "Take your skirt and panties off." He shifted his gaze to Shannon. "You need to catch up. Take off everything."

"Why?" Shannon erupted.

"Don't ask -- you're on probation here." Bart eyed Bridgette, who was awaiting the results of the confrontation. "I'm going to fuck you -- both of you -- unless you're determined to break my one and only rule. If that is the case..."

Bridgette rushed to fumble with the snap and zipper of her skirt, her glare at Shannon clearly conveying, 'Well?' Shannon's return look said, 'Okay!' in the same exasperated tone as her face disappeared while she threw the blouse off over her head. Next came her sturdy bra, followed by the skirt and panties.

"Okay, we'll lean against the wall, I guess," Bart mused, turning in that direction. "If one of you would care to...?" Bridgette was on her knees instantly, fishing in his fly -- but Shannon was maybe a second and a half behind. Somehow, they didn't get in each other's way while they lowered Bart's trousers and underwear. Bridgette, shaft in hand, offered Bart's cock to Shannon to get acquainted with. 'Okay, MAYBE this will work,' Bart mused, as Shannon suckled his glans.

Distant corner or no, the trio collected an audience. Onlookers 'oooohed' and 'aaahed' as Bridgette and Shannon passed Bart's firming cock back and forth between them; it only took a couple of passes for it to be at full staff. When it was, Bart murmured, "Okay, I guess we're leaning against the wall..." and waved the girls forward.

From behind, the differences were marked. Bridgette was a big girl, but she was also tall, and the bit of extra belly she was carrying aside, she was more or less to scale everywhere for her size. Shannon, on the other hand, was short, had a big belly AND a big ass -- and being bent over didn't showcase the large breasts that went with the other parts. Instead, it displayed her ass prominently, along with the hint of 'taint' along what Shannon thought of as her withers -- the area where her inner thighs rubbed together. She eyed Bart over her shoulder, well aware that she was apparently on some kind of probation.

As soon as he had donned a rubber, Bart started with Bridgette -- who was wet from her previous orgasm and continued to be excited, but still wasn't ready for Bart's member -- and of course the rubber didn't help. Still after very few seconds of jockeying, Bart was sliding rhythmically deep inside her passage. The position wasn't tremendously romantic or tremendously comfortable -- but it WAS exciting, and the audience cheered the couple on as Bart pumped Bridgette's passage, pistoning his length from glans to root into her again and again. Off to one side, one of the hotter looking dancers was doing some other young woman using a stroke that reminded Bart of a frenzied rabbit -- something Bart deliberately avoided. He would get his, one way or the other; the question was, 'Are they any good?' Secondary to that was 'Which of these is the best?'

Bridgette was pretty damned good. From initial insertion, she offered a grunt at the end of every stroke, but not long at all after Bart got going good, Bridgette moaned, "Oooooohhhh!" and dropped her head -- and Bart noticed that her legs were shaking and her asshole was winking at him. Bart stopped because it looked like Bridgette's knees might give out; he held onto her hips and waited until her balance seemed less tentative. When she showed signs of recovery, Bart withdrew his cock; it seemed like a good time to stop and try out the competition...

Shannon was harder to get into. For one thing, she wasn't really warmed up. Bart's initial inclination was to change rubbers, but then he remembered that Bridgette and Shannon were roommates and undoubtedly having sex with each other; anything one had, the other undoubtedly had, too. It was just another open question -- but it simplified things both from a removal and installation viewpoint and because Bridgette had copiously lubricated the exterior of the rubber. Bart managed to forgo commercial lubricants and use the natural one present, and after a couple of abortive attempts managed to worm his cock into Shannon's channel.

Once past the opening, things smoothed out; Bart grabbed Shannon's chunky hips and set about making her ass jiggle. Shannon was a lot more vocal than Bridgette, starting with "Oh, FUCK!" when he buried himself to the balls the first time. After that it was "Fuck... Yeah... Ogod.... Shit! Jeezus! Yes! Ohhh..." -- something every fourth stroke or so. Bart had been able to get at Bridgette's clit by reaching around her, but inches and angles didn't allow that with Shannon. Shannon's ass was prominent, obviously, so Bart started playing with her sphincter with his thumb -- and Shannon came unglued, doing push-ups against the wall to ramp up the impacts. "OH YEAH! YEAH! SHIT!" Bart had no problem figuring out when she got her orgasm; her asshole opened up and swallowed his thumb to the first joint, then tried to milk it.

Bart went back to Bridgette, who was a little surprised when he pointed her back at the wall, but more than happy to oblige. This time Bart went looking exclusively for his own pleasure -- but Shannon wormed her way between Bridgette and the wall and the pair kissed while Shannon held Bridgette stable and Bridgette came anyway just before Bart unloaded into the rubber; the timing was undoubtedly NOT a coincidence. Bart staggered back and Bridgette surprised him by turning and kneeling to collect the rubber, then emptying it -- while Shannon sucked in his cock. 'If they continue to cooperate,' Bart mused, 'this thing might work...' Hauling up his pants, Bart announced, "It's hot in here. Let's go outside for a while."

The club allowed for this, the theory being that they couldn't tolerate smoking -- tobacco OR pot -- or other drug use in the club, but what you did in the parking lot was beyond their control. They issued those colored paper wristbands like those used at amusement parks to anyone headed outside temporarily. Bart waited for the girls to dress and led them out to his new Charger R/T. "Let's all sit in back," he suggested, opening a rear door. Bridgette went first, and Bart followed, despite the issues of center seating. Shannon wedged herself in last. Roomy it wasn't but no one had to turn around awkwardly. "This is cooler?" Shannon muttered.

Bart leaned up between the seats and fired up the engine, then turned on the air conditioner. "It will be."

"Okay, so, what is it you're looking for? What do you think you're getting? Sex slaves?" Shannon continued to be the voice of the pair. Bridgette gave her a dirty look, but turned her attention to Bart.

Bart pursed his lips. "Let me pitch this as it was originally planned -- which was for one. Each of you can assume that the offer is for you alone for now; when I'm done, we can look at the complications involved in there being two of you." Neither female said anything, so he continued, "To a certain extent, I guess you're not far off the mark. Normally, things should be all very domestic -- I have no plans for you to call me strange titles or for me to refer to you by anything debasing or for you to run around naked wearing nothing but a dog collar -- although it might be fun occasionally. Corporal punishment would be something only offered under extreme circumstances -- but I retain the right to spank you or whatever without incurring an assault charge. You'll sleep in my bed, unless I'm angry with you or something, in which case, you'll sleep somewhere else -- at a guess, just where is dependent upon just how angry I am, but cages in the basement are not an option. Basically, you give me what I want, when and how I want it, and I take care of you. It's not complicated in overview, but the details could be, I guess."

"What about outsiders?" Bridgette asked. "What will they think I am?"

"My significant other," Bart replied. "Actually, this wouldn't be an incorrect assumption on their part, as it would be accurate, if all goes well. In fact, legitimizing things would be an option -- but you would have to sign a prenuptial agreement that left you penniless and without rights upon any divorce."

"Whoa!" Shannon interrupted. "Did you say marriage?"

Bart nodded. "It is a possibility. This would be a layer over our basic relationship and the rules wouldn't change -- it would just legitimize things. Obviously, we wouldn't be talking about next week, or anything -- it is something possible down the road." He pursed his lips. "Obviously, having two of you complicates this particular feature of the offer."

"Yeah..." Shannon shook her head. Marriage? Just how serious WAS this guy?

"So how long would this all last?" Bridgette asked.

Bart shrugged. "Until it doesn't work any more. Until you can't or won't obey me. Until we tire of one another. Optimally, until one of us dies." At Bridgett's gasp, he added, "we've complicated things, but I'm prepared to offer the successful candidate a permanent relationship."

Shannon shook her head to clear it. "Based upon..." she waved at the club.

"Based upon physical compatibility. Based upon the fact that I find you visibly pleasing. Based upon the fact that I believe that you are properly motivated to accept my offer," Bart replied.

"And what leads you to believe that?" Shannon asked archly.

"Because you're not getting any others," Bart replied bluntly. "Because you're desperate. Because when you get right down to it I'm not asking more than you're willing to give to have a man." Shannon reeled, falling back in the seat as if she'd been slapped. Bridgett sat like a statue, her face tight.

Bart let the silence hang. Finally, Bridgette said, "That's not nice."

"Nice doesn't enter into it," Bart replied. "It's TRUE -- and, frankly, it is one of the primary criteria I used to select you. So whether it is nice or not, it's why you're here. Why should I make an offer like this to some spoiled bitch who has hot and cold running men? Because I want to be laughed at? I'm making this offer to you because you are in a position to value it."

"You're pretty weird," Shannon declared.

"Okay," Bart replied.

"That's it? Okay?"

"I don't see regular guys offering you much," Bart replied. "Maybe you should look into weird. If you can't put up with my weirdness, that pretty much dictates your decision in this matter, doesn't it?"

"I don't even know your name," Bridgette husked.

"It's Bart. That's Hobart, to be clear, but I wouldn't advise you to attempt to call me that on a regular basis, unless you have a thing for being spanked. What's YOUR name? I've gathered Shannon's from conversation."

"It's Bridgette," the tall woman supplied. "How could you select us out of a crowd without even knowing our names?"

"He picked you, Bridgette -- he didn't pick me," Shannon interrupted. "I'm only here because..."

"You were on my short list," Bart replied. "Several spaces down, but you were on it." He turned to Bridgette. "I didn't need to know your names to see what you were doing and to understand why you were doing it. I didn't need your names to divine your motives and your feelings. That's what I needed to be able to select you."

"So, in like five minutes," Shannon began.

"I'd been watching you since your arrival at eight-thirty. The fact that you were some of the first ones through the door is relevant, don't you think?" Bart interrupted her. "Actually, I was here for the last Unlimited Ladies Night -- and you both were, too..."

Shannon's face collapsed. "Damn you!" She tried to slap him, but he caught her wrist. After a brief struggle, she collapsed and he folded her over onto his lap and rubbed her back while she choked out sobs. Turning to Bridgette, he said, "I know -- I'm being brutal. But I'm being brutally HONEST! If you accept my offer, you need to have no illusions about it -- or about why you're accepting it."