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Message-ID: <38013asstr$1030342211@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: carnagejackson@hotmail.com (Carnage Jackson)
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NNTP-Posting-Date: 26 Aug 2002 04:46:53 GMT
Subject: {ASSM} Hollywood After Dark - Ch. 3  (MF, FF, cons, oral, reluc, drugs, slut, celeb)
Date: Mon, 26 Aug 2002 02:10:11 -0400
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The storyline is becoming quite complex now, so I hope everyone
can follow it. If you are new to the series, please read the
first two chapters on my site (carnagejackson.com) to catch up
and understand everything, as recounting it all here would take
too long. Heh. Many thanks to KMB for letting me reference his
great series in this chapter. Feedback and suggestions always
welcome.


Hollywood After Dark: Chapter 3

By Carnage Jackson

carnagejackson@hotmail.com
_____________________________________________________

Standard Disclaimer:

You must be 18 to read this story, be able to read erotica in
your community, not be offended by the contents of it...blah
blah, you know the rest.

This story may be distributed freely, for commercial or
non-commercial use, but PLEASE leave my email/name on it! That's
all I ask!

This work is complete fiction, all made up in my head. Yes I know
the celebs don't act like this in real life, but this is a
fantasy after all.

This is Part 3 of an ongoing series.
_____________________________________________________


I have arrived and this time you should believe the hype I
listened to everyone now I know that everyone was right I'll be
there for you as long as it works for me I play a game It's
called insincerity - Nine Inch Nails




ALEX'S STORY:

  I slugged down my fourth shot in about 10 minutes, the bourbon
going down hard and fiery down my throat. The stale smell of
cigarette smoke and spilled beer wafting into my nostrils, I
rubbed my hand through my hair. What a day it had been. Setting
my glass down, I motioned for the bartender to fill it up again.
He walked hesitantly over to me, the question of if I had had
enough hanging on his lips and yet no words coming as he was
about to say it. I watched him refill the glass and then picked
it up in my hand, examining its brownish qualities, the liquor
sloshing around slightly in the smudged glass. It looked small
and frail in my hand, and I could crush it if I wanted to I
suppose, but that would just bring on startled glances and
questions from the other patrons of this dank bar, and questions
were the one thing I was very much looking to avoid today if at
all possible.

  After my experience in the Starry Dreams strip club the night
before, wherein I witnessed three of Hollywood's most beautiful
women essentially becomes whores and sex slaves for a room full
of powerful men, the most plaguing thought on my mind was not
about what had happened but why. Things were not making sense, no
matter how much I replayed them in my mind. Why were these women
being so used like this and perhaps more importantly, why did
they allow themselves to be? There had to be a reasonable
explanation; there always was, at least if movies had taught me
anything at all. And here I was smack dab in the middle of the
place of dreams, getting my OWN movie made. Strangely though,
life felt more bizarre than any piece of fiction I had ever seen
on screen.

  It didn't help matters that I was on the outs with Petty, my
girlfriend. She had caught a great break for her singing career
while waiting for me at my office, and how did I show her my joy
for her? By going off about the evilness I was starting to
understand of the record label/movie studio both of us suddenly
found ourselves in the good graces of. It wasn't that I wasn't
happy for her, it was simply that I thought that Antamount, the
studio who bought my script and wanted to sign her to a record
deal, had suddenly become inherently polluted in my mind, the
luster losing it's sheen, following the events of last night.

  So fuck it, I deserved these drinks, bartender be damned.
Things were going to get worse before they got better, that much
my gut already told me. What happened this morning certainly
didn't help matters at all.

  I had went into the studio the same as I had the day before,
only this time armed with more knowledge than I probably wanted.
Whereas before, everything seemed magical and like a dream, now
it was as if everything was cast in a darker light. Secretaries
seemed more snotty, set crews seemed more surly and the
executives and people involved in Antamount's production of my
movie, "Amerikan Family", seemed to be in on some kind of joke
that I was the punch line of.

  After spending a mostly sleepless night on the couch, I was
groggy and yet still decidedly firm in the decision I had come to
last night, lying there awake, staring at the ceiling. I had to
know what was going on, or at least find out as much more as I
could, without seeming too nosy or obvious. The likely source for
this had at first seemed to be Gordon Hapsboro, studio owner
Wilton Willis' head assistant, but chances are he probably knew
too much and would get suspicious if I started questioning. So I
crossed off names mentally down the Antamount food chain and had
landed on Jack Furrow and Brandon Shuman, the two guys who were
overseeing the script and producing my film for Antamount. They
might not know everything that was going on behind the scenes at
the studio, but they could at least help in putting a lot of my
fears to rest and convince me that I was just imagining things.

  I walked into the casting lot, opening the door quietly to
avoid making too much noise if there were script readings still
going on. To my surprise however, the place was empty except for
Furrow and Shuman, both of which were standing over the table
they were at yesterday, looking down into a speaker phone. Jack
had his hands splayed out across the table as he leaned against
it, his head down as he listened intently to the other end, while
Brandon stood idly by the table, his arms crossed, looking bored.
As I drew closer to them, I could begin to hear the conversation
in full.

  "So then first it's Virginia for the end scene, followed by the
lot here for the rioting and climax and the rest will be shot in
France. Is that what your notes say too Mr. Willis?" Furrow said
into the speaker phone. I stood still, barely even breathing as I
listened. Just the mention of Willis' name now sent chills down
my back.

  "Yes Jack, that's the shooting schedule. And casting is
complete, at least with the principal players?" I heard Willis'
voice say. It sounded tinny and far away, or at the very least to
be coming from a cell phone.

  "Yes sir. Two weeks more of final script prep and then we will
be ready to start shooting," Furrow said.

  "I assume Brandon has everything in order then?" Willis asked.

  Brandon unfolded his arms and leaned in over the speaker. "Yes
Mr. Willis, the revisions are going to be slight. Hilt gave us
something decent to work with so that's a good thing. Although I
still think changing the name might be in order," Brandon said.


  "Nonsense. What with all this flag waving and patriotic mumbo
jumbo going on, anything with the word 'America' in it will sell
tickets like crazy. Even if it is misspelled. Now, I must be
going gentlemen, is there anything else?" Willis said.

  "No sir. Have a safe flight," Jack said. There was an audible
click on the other end, followed by a soft beep as Jack hung up
the phone. He stepped back from the table and stretched, his arms
rising high above his head. I took this as a cue to continue on
into the room.

  Brandon saw me first. "Hey Alex, what's up?"

  "Just back on the job," I replied.

  "Glad to hear it. You feeling better?"

  "Yes, thank you. First day jitters I guess," I said, obviously
not letting in on the fact that I had left early yesterday more
out of confusion and worry than any sort of actual sickness.

  "Well, we finished up casting without you. Here's a list,"
Brandon said, handing me a sheet of paper from the table. I took
it and glanced down, scanning. It was written in a neat but
slightly erratic hand, almost as if it was done in haste. A lot
of the names I had never heard of, but a few stood out.

  In the role of the mistress, they had cast Monica Bellucci.
This was no surprise, given how well she had played the role
yesterday during an audition. There were a few actual surprises
though. For the teenage daughter, they had cast Eliza Dushku and
for the youngest daughter, Mila Kunis (there were three kids, two
girls and a younger boy). I raised my eyebrows at the casting of
Kunis, as she had never struck me as much of a dramatic actress.
Furrow must have picked up on my puzzlement, because he was quick
to jump in.

  "The studio wanted her for the daughter role to draw in the
teen crowd. You know, the under 17 set," Furrow said.

  I glanced up at him, still a bit puzzled. "But the movie is
incredibly violent and is more than likely going to end up with
an 'R' rating. What good does it do to cast a teen favorite into
an 'R' rated movie?"

  "Hey, we don't make the rules. We just hear from the studio
'cast this girl' every now and then and we are very much obliged
to do it," Brandon said.

  Looking over the rest of the list, none of the other names
caught my eye, but I figured that the list was likely to change
in the future, especially since they were wanting to apparently
wait two weeks before filming began. I handed the paper back to
Brandon.

  "It looks ok, I guess. No huge stars but hey, this is my first
movie right?" I said, forcing a smile.

  "How true. Don't worry though. If the movie goes over well,
you'll gain some creed and your next film could have an all star
cast," Jack said, standing over the desk with his head down
again, putting some papers into a folder. He picked it up and
looked at me.

  "We were just taking a conference call with Mr. Willis, but
since that's done, there isn't much left to do today. I'm afraid
you got here a little too late Alex," Jack said.

  "If you had told me that there was going to be a conference
call, I would have been here sooner," I replied, a little irked
at what he was insinuating.

  "Hey, easy there big guy. We didn't know about it either. In
fact, we had just sat down when the secretary buzzed us and told
us that he was on the phone. You'll learn that pretty quick here:
Willis likes to make surprise calls to see what is going on. He's
neurotic like that," Brandon said.

  I sighed in frustration, but the anger passed quickly. I had
more important things to worry about.

  The three of us began to walk out of the room, Jack moving
surprisingly spry for someone his age (probably mid to late 40s),
with Brandon slouching behind him as I brought up the rear. I
quickly scanned the two of them, trying to figure out who might
be the most approachable. I decided on Brandon, as his Generation
X slacker attitude simply vibed that not very much could irritate
or get to him, even a line of questioning out of left field. I
caught up to him and grabbed his arm, pulling him slightly back
towards me.

  Brandon spun on his heels, his eyes still locked on watching
Jack leave the room. Furrow didn't notice either of us, lost in
his own world as his long legs took big strides out of the room,
the folder of documents under his arm.

  "What?" Brandon said, a little startled by the feel of my hand
on his arm.

  "I wanted to talk to you about something," I replied, my voice
a little soft in my throat. Brandon looked at me for a moment,
but I watched over his head as Jack disappeared out the door, the
heavy metal of it closing behind him with a slam.

  "Alex, I'm late for a..."

  "It will only take a moment,"

  "Fine. What is it?"

  I had to think carefully over every word as it came out of my
mouth, although this wasn't too big of a problem. I had rehearsed
the lines in my head the entire way over. I took a deep breath
and started, my eyes watching Brandon's own.

  "When you first started working here, did you notice anything
weird?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, like little perks or something around the office, that
sort of thing,"

  Brandon thought for only a split second. "No. Why?"

  I was a bit puzzled - I hadn't expected this response.

  "You know, invitations to parties, special treatment, that sort
of thing?"

  "Alex, what the hell are you talking about? I mean yeah, I go
to parties and all but..."

  "No, I mean parties thrown by Mr. Willis,"

  It was very brief and just for a split second, but I saw it
wash over him like a wave cresting across rocks. His body
stiffened for a second, but his mind was too quick for even this
subtle body language.

  "Nope. I have only talked to the guy once in person, and when I
did it was just a handshake and hello. Are you getting cut in on
something I'm not? Because if so, I better speak to my agent,"

  "No no, nothing like that. It's just...I heard things from some
people, that's all. I was just curious I guess,"

  Brandon shuffled on his feet, obviously anxious to leave.

  "Yeah, well whatever Alex. I really gotta go. Have fun at your
parties," he said, turning to leave. I grabbed onto his arm
tighter now, though I could never remember exactly why. Maybe it
was that he served as a life vest in this growing sea of
turbulence I was in; maybe it was for no reason in particular.

  "I'm thinking of taking some time off," I said, the words
surprisingly hoarse in my throat. This caught Brandon by
surprise.

  "What? The movie just got going!"

  "I know, but I'm still having to adjust to this lifestyle I
guess," I lied. "Besides, do you really need me around here?"

  "No, not really. But shit man, if I had a movie being made, I
certainly would want to be here to watch it,"

  "I know, and I might do that. But only when I'm needed. Even
though I'm excited about the movie, I feel like a fifth wheel
around here,"

  "Well, it's up to you. Hapsboro and Furrow would be pissed off,
but I guess that's cool. Maybe it will help you become a better
writer or something. You know, take a sabbatical of some sort. I
hate to see you leave though, just as we were getting to know one
another. Maybe you'll change your mind?"

  I smiled at this seemingly genuine show of friendship, of
affection.

  "I might. I just need time to think, to get my life back in
order. That's all,"

  Brandon moved his arm from my hand, which I allowed with no
resistance.

  "Yeah, all right. Well, gotta go Alex. See ya when I see ya,"

  I stood there in the middle of the floor, watching him go. He
hustled out the same way Furrow did and I couldn't help but think
that in some alternate universe, they could have been father and
son.

  The door slammed behind Brandon as it had behind Jack and only
when it settled in it's frame did I move again, walking towards
it and out, passing the same secretary again and going to my
office. This new information had thrown a kink into the ideas I
was forming, but there must be something there that I can work
with.

  
  Settling down into my office, the quiet sound of an air
conditioning unit outside the only noise in an otherwise quiet, I
ran my hands through my hair and stared at the empty blotter on
my desk. Looking into it, I saw scenes play out before me in my
mind: the first meeting with Hapsboro and the subsequent party
that night; the encounter with Katherine at the club; Petty
signing a record deal, possibly in this very office. What did it
all mean? Why had Brandon flinched like that when I questioned
him about it?

  The way things played out in my mind, I had two choices. I
could leave this behind, take the money I had gotten for my
script and not look back, simply smiling to myself when the film
finally opened that I had written it and that I was the one who
had brought it to life. Or I could try and stick around longer
and see where things led, see if there was a way to operate in
this system without selling myself short, especially that
screaming, nagging voice in the back of my mind that I knew was
my conscience. Both choices had pros and cons to them, but I had
to reach some sort of conclusion about this, and soon. Otherwise,
the problems were likely to consume me almost completely.

  Laying my head down on my desk, the soft leather of the blotter
pleasingly cool against my cheek, I closed my eyes and ran
through all the scenarios, from innocent to extreme. I was now in
the middle of all this, but did I want to really see how deep the
rabbit hole went, or did I want to claw my way back out while I
still had the person I knew as me still intact, while I still
quite possibly controlled my soul?

  I must have dozed off at some point, because when I was
startled awake by a knock on the door, the air of the afternoon
had seemed to have changed, indicating the slow dawning of
another night in Los Angeles. I lifted my head from the desk,
wiping my cheek of a light sheen of sweat that had collected
against the side of my face as I cleared my throat.

  "Come in," I said groggily.

  The door opened slowly and Monica Bellucci appeared before me,
almost like an angel in a dream. She wore a pair of low cut jeans
and a purple top, the dark skin of her stomach barely visible
beneath the material. Her long black hair hung over her shoulder
loosely as she opened the door wider and walked into the office,
glancing around herself as she stepped through the door. She
smiled at me as she drew closer, the light scene of her perfume
wafting in like an aura around her. She held a small dish in her
right hand and clutched a pair of knives and forks tightly
against the dish with her fingers.

  "Hello Alex. I hope you don't mind me coming by," she said
softly.

  "No, it's fine," I said, leaning back in my chair as I
stretched my legs out underneath the desk. Monica took a seat
across from me in one of the office chairs, her eyes glimmering
in the white light of the fluorescent bulb above.

  "I came by to thank you," she said, setting the dish and
silverware close to her on the desk.

  "What for?" I asked.

  "For getting me the part in your film," she said, smiling
softly. Even though Monica seemed to ooze sexuality with every
movement of her body, she could still be incredibly shy and
graceful as she conducted herself in such banalities of everyday
life as setting down a dish and carrying on a conversation.

  "I didn't do anything Monica, I have to be honest with you," I
replied.

  "Yes," she said, pondering this for a moment. "But I think you
actually did. You see, I believe it was my reading with you of
the script that helped convince them to give me the part, to give
me my big American break,"
  
  I blushed slightly at this, remembering our normal screen kiss
that had quickly evolved into something more, something
passionate. It had been incredibly hot, without a doubt, but
whether or not it was what got her the part, I didn't really
know. She played the character very well, and I had read my lines
the same way I had always envisioned them to be read when I wrote
the script. Still though, there had been, undeniably, some sort
of spark or kinetic energy between us from the scene.

  "I just read the script Monica," I said, looking away from her
eyes, eyes that a man could lose himself forever in. "You did all
the convincing,"

  Monica shook her head lightly from side to side. "I don't
believe that and I don't think you do either. WE sold them the
scene, WE sold them the part. It was your script and perhaps my
acting that won me the role, but we couldn't have done it without
the other," she said. I could feel her eyes scanning over me,
reading my reaction.

  I sighed, accepting her compliment as gracefully as I could.
"I'm just happy you got it. I can't think of a better person to
have won the role, quite honestly,"
  
  Monica smiled at me, scooting herself closer towards me at the
desk. Her breasts jostled slightly in her shirt, which was
tighter than I had first noticed. She smiled at me over the desk,
her chin held in her palm as she pushed the dish towards me.

  "I brought you something," she said with a grin.

  I pulled the dish towards me. It was a ceramic thing with a
light flower stencil around the outside and a plastic top holding
it's contents inside. Beneath the top I could see a myriad of
colors - greens and browns and reds and yellows and oranges.
Lifting off the top, the air around me was immediately filled
with the scent of Italian food - garlic, fresh pasta, rich
cheese. It smelled wonderful.

  "What's this?" I asked, glancing down at the pile of noodles
and beef that fit snugly inside the dish.

  "When I was a little girl," Monica said. "My mother taught me
that the best way to repay someone, especially a man, is to
prepare them a rich and enjoyable meal. One that will leave them
fat and happy after they eat, a small piece of bliss in edible
form so to speak,"

  I took a fork from the desk and prodded the contents. Until the
smell had hit my nose, I had no idea I was as hungry as I really
was. Monica saw me poking it and checking it out.

  "It's a lasagna," she said. "I love to cook for my husband and
family and I had some left from last night's meal so I thought I
would give it to you as a sign of appreciation,"

  "You didn't have to do this Monica,"

  "Nonsense. This isn't even doing enough! If your film is as
good as I think it is, and I have a pretty good sense of these
things, my life will become infinitely better in the next few
years. A dish of leftovers is the least I can do,"

  I dug the fork in deeper and lifted out a bite. Normally I
wouldn't eat pasta like this cold, but the scent was
overpowering. I had to try it now.

  Putting it into my mouth, the cheese practically melted on my
tongue, my taste buds overwhelmed with the strength of the food.
An edible piece of bliss had been exactly right, I thought to
myself as I chewed the pasta and swallowed it. Monica watched me,
a slight sense of desired approval in her eyes.

  "Monica, it's delicious," I said, setting the fork down to look
at her again. The flavors still tingled in my mouth, making a few
of my taste buds water in anticipation of more to come.

  She picked up a fork and took a bite out for herself. Closing
her eyes, she savored the pasta as it touched her tongue.
Swallowing gracefully, her long neck moving ever so slightly as
it went down, Monica opened her eyes again and watched me.

  "I hear you are leaving the film," she said, a slight look of
disappointment in her eyes. How could she know so quick? Did word
really travel that fast?

  "I'm thinking about it, yes. They don't need me around anyways,
getting myself into trouble," I replied, now eating the lasagna
eagerly.

  "But I need you," she said softly, her eyes now locked on me.

  I swallowed hard. "You do? What could you possibly need a
writer like me for?"

  Monica laughed. "To keep me saying the right lines silly! If I
know you are on set then I can feel comfortable that the master,
the author, is right there with me when I say his beautiful
dialog,"

  I blushed slightly at such a strong compliment. Praise such as
that doesn't come very often from a beautiful woman like Monica
Bellucci.

  "Like I said, I'm still thinking about it," I replied, setting
my fork down. Monica however, plunged hers back in and scooped
out a sizeable bite. Holding it out in front of her face, she
leaned it across the desk towards me, the fork extended directly
in front of her. I could smell her perfume and freshly washed
hair, even over the spices of the lasagna, as I dutifully opened
my mouth for her as she slid the fork in. The feeling of the
steel of the fork and the bursting flavor from the pasta, coming
from Monica's hand, was strangely arousing. I had never been one
of those people who saw the erotic qualities of food, but as I
chewed the pasta I began to reconsider my stance on the subject.

  Monica pulled the fork away from my mouth but kept the same
leaning position across the desk, her breasts pressing into the
surface of the desk through her shirt.

  "If there is anything I could maybe do to make you stay,"
Monica said, trailing off, her sexy voice now fading from her
lips in a sultry whisper.

  "Monica, I...I mean, I want to stay and help out with the
movie," I said, my eyes locked on hers as she leaned further
across the desk, her lips now just an agonizing few inches from
my own. I didn't get to finish the last phrase of my sentence
however, as she quickly leaned in across from me and pressed her
soft lips against my own.

  If our first screen kiss had been just that, something for the
cameras, something devoid of much real passion, this second kiss
was the exact opposite. I felt a spark of energy course through
my body, as if Monica had transferred her sexuality somehow from
her lips onto my own body, the river of arousal racing through
every nerve in my body.

  Our lips stayed locked together for another moment before I
pulled away, part of my mind wondering if the current of passion
would create a spark of some sort when our lips parted. It didn't
materialize of course, but that didn't keep the moment from still
feeling incredibly intense and heated, Monica licking her lips
together seductively as we hovered inches away from each other
yet again.

  Monica smiled at me and pushed the food away from her, a slight
jingle of the silverware sliding across the desk as the only
noise to be heard. She lifted herself onto all fours on top of
the desk, throwing her hair back over her shoulder as she leaned
down to kiss me again. I stood up from my chair but Monica rose
as well, lifting her body as our lips stayed together, her tongue
now moving into my mouth as it explored across my lips and teeth.
I responded equally, tasting the sweetness of her mouth - a
delicious mix of the spices from the pasta and something else,
something sweeter such as fruit. Our breathing now filled the
room as I wrapped my arm around Monica's waist, pulling her
closer to me. My hand caressed down her back to her ass,
squeezing first one cheek and then the other as my fingers felt
the soft roughness of the denim beneath it's tips. My thumb
grazed across a patch of exposed skin between her hips and the
bottom of her shirt, the warmth and heat radiating off her body
incredible beneath my touch.

  The back of my mind screamed loudly at me to consider why she
was doing this, what was going on and whether or not she was
being sincere or had just been sent here to do her job. But as
loudly as it yelled, my instincts had taken over. There would be
time later to analyze things, but giving into the weakness of her
flesh at this very moment was something that I was willing to do,
no matter what the costs later down the road.

  I could feel Monica's breath heavy on my cheek as she exhaled,
getting more excited by my roaming hands as they caressed her
body, a finger sliding into her jeans as I touched the thin
fabric of what had to be a pair of thong underwear separating her
body from her jeans. Monica's hands were wrapped tightly around
my back, her nails running across my shoulders and arms, giving
me a tingling sensation each time she touched a new area. The
bulge in my pants was impossible to hide now, but Monica didn't
seem to notice (or mind) as she leaned forward into me, her
pelvis pressing tightly against my body.

  She moved her mouth from my lips and began to kiss down my neck
towards my chest. Reaching her arms down away from my back, she
pulled at the ends of my shirt, lifting it up and out from my
belt and, in one quick motion, over my head and onto the floor.
The cold air of the room rushed over me, adding to the tingling
excitement I already was feeling, my heart thudding loudly in my
chest. Monica lowered her head down my chest once again, this
time kissing and licking my nipples as her tongue slid smoothly
down my abs. She unbuckled my belt and pushed my pants to the
floor, where they landed with a soft thud. I stood there in just
my boxers now, admiring this gorgeous creature in front of me. A
lock of her hair had fallen over one of her eyes, adding to the
sultry look on her face. Still on her knees, Monica scooted
forward towards me and dipped her upper body down below the level
of the desk, so that her head was just a few inches away from my
crotch.

  I gasped in excitement as I felt her hand slide into my boxers
and pull out my rock hard cock, her hand delicate and soft
against my throbbing manhood. Monica pulled my aching prick out
of my boxers and held it firmly in her hand, wasting no time as
she lowered her luscious lips down onto it, her tongue and a drop
of hot saliva falling out as she engulfed the head. Her lips
sliding down the length of my shaft, Monica was clearly an expert
in the "oral arts". Her ass swayed on the desk as she bobbed her
head up and down on me, sucking gently along each vein and ridge
of my dick, a slight smear of her lipstick staining my flesh. I
moved my hand back onto her ass as I bent over her, slipping one
hand beneath her waist to grasp the fly of her jeans. I
unbuttoned the loose clasp and then hooked the edges with my
thumbs as I pulled them down off her ass, her round and firm
buttocks exposed to me, causing even greater arousal on my part.

  Monica moved a hand down to my shaft as she sucked on me,
oblivious to the undressing I was doing to her. Her cheeks
billowed in and out as she devoured my cock, the warm fluids of
her mouth making the blowjob incredibly intense, the feel of her
hot mouth like a sauna of sexual pleasure. I groped and squeezed
her ass cheeks now, my fingers dancing lightly over the navy
blue, transparent thong she wore, the thin fabric cutting deeply
into her ass between her cheeks. I slid a finger down further on
her ass, stretching my reach to the fullest, as I found her
pussy, already slightly wet with arousal. I pushed the thong
aside with a finger and then began to work the tip of my middle
finger into her, feeling the softness of her womanhood beneath my
touch. This just encouraged Monica as she groaned beneath me,
sucking harder on my prick.

  I lifted my hand from her snatch, my fingers wet with her
juices and began to remove her shirt as best as possible (the
position was admittedly a little awkward). Sliding the top over
her smooth back and shoulders, it hung around her neck between
her breasts, Monica not wanting to lift her mouth away long
enough to remove the garment. Her bra was a black, lacy thing,
straining against the size of her ample breasts, her tits swaying
gently as she bobbed up and down, working her shoulders and neck
completely. I felt my balls start to tingle as my orgasm grew
near, but I didn't want to shoot my load into Monica's mouth - if
I came, this might be the only time I ever got with Monica
Bellucci and I wasn't going to be satisfied until I had sampled
her undoubtedly wonderful pussy.

  Reaching my hand to her head, feeling the soft curls of her
hair against my fingers, I gently lifted Monica's mouth off of my
prick. She raised her head and looked at me, lust in her eyes as
she caught her breath slightly. Her lipstick was smeared and
there was a slight hint of moisture against her upper lip as she
watched me. I smiled at her and sat her upright - she had led the
foreplay before but now I was going to take control.

  Sitting there watching me, I ran my hand across Monica's cheek,
her face following my touch as she kissed the back of my palm.
Grazing over her shoulders and neck, I placed my hand beneath her
breasts, grasping the hook in the front that held these
delightful beauties in places. With a soft snap, the hook opened
and the garment parted, sagging slightly on her chest (though her
breasts were doing anything BUT sagging). I moved my hand to her
left breast and pushed the bra aside, cupping her tit in my hand
as my thumb stroked her nipple. Monica sighed happily at me as I
teased her hardening nub, the darkened areola of which grew flush
beneath my touch. I placed my other hand on the opposite breast
and pushed the bra aside, allowing the strapless thing to fall
off of her body and onto my desk. Slowly moving my hand up her
neck, I grasped onto her shirt and pulled it over her head,
Monica shaking her head slightly as her long locks fell against
her shoulders.

  She was topless now as I took Monica by the hand and stood her
up on the floor, her body a sexy sight that I couldn't drink in
enough as she stood there in her damp thong and a pair of
sneakers. Sitting down into the chair, I slid my boxers off and
onto the floor beneath the desk as I held Monica's hand in my
own, touching her fingers. Monica again smiled at me as she moved
her hand away from mine and to her hips, seductively sliding her
last real piece of clothing from her body. She did a little turn
for me as she moved, bending over at the waist slightly so that I
could see her snatch as it became exposed to me, the fabric of
her panties coming down her legs and thighs before she stepped
out of them on the floor.

  Reaching my hand out, I grazed my finger tips across her belly,
feeling nthe indentation of her belly button, damp ever so
slightly from the growing perspiration on her skin. I laid my
full palm on her stomach and held it there for a second, feeling
her body churn and move beneath me, so alive and so sensual.
Sliding downward, my fingers made contact with her neatly trimmed
hair, cut in a very thin strip above her opening, the wiry feel
even hotter to the touch than the rest of her body. I let my hand
fall away as Monica turned towards me, rotating her firm, trim
body as she sat down on me in reverse, her ass lowering onto my
crotch, my shaft resting firmly between her cheeks.

  Monica rocked slowly up and down me, my cock hard and blazing
with heat as it brushed against her sex. The feeling was
wonderful as the moisture between her legs coated me from base to
tip, her soft outer lips parting slightly as my prick slid
between them, so agonizingly close to being inside her. Neither
one of us used our hands for this seduction - not using them at
all, but simply letting our bodies grind and respond to one
another was more than enough. Monica settled back against me, her
back against my chest as she parted her legs more widely now, the
angle of my dick just enough to allow the head to catch between
her lips, pressing hard against her opening, begging to be let
in. She paused for a moment, feeling this slight pulling and the
sexual tension between us reach it's peak, both of us enjoying
the feeling of the pressure, the moment before the storm broke
into a full on gale.

  With a slight moving of her hips, I slid into her, each inch
burrowing further into her cunt as I watched between her legs
while my cock disappeared into her. It stood straight up now as
Monica slowly raised herself off of my lap, only an inch or so,
to allow for the fully penetrating effect to take place. Within a
moment I was inside of her to the hilt, the head of my shaft
nestled softly against the inner walls of her pussy. I felt her
inner walls contract involuntarily and we both shuddered as we
stayed perfectly still, the fullness of her snatch for her and
the tightness for me like a moment frozen in time.

  I moved my hands to Monica's thighs as I slowly slid them up
and down her, creating a heated friction between our bodies, my
palms moving from just above her knees down to her opening, where
the thumbs of my hands met again with the soft heat between her
thighs. Daringly I slid my hands further between her legs, the
wetness of her body now completely evident as she spread her legs
as wide as possible to allow my roaming hands to feel the outer
skin of her form. I placed my hands beneath her thighs now and
began to lift her off of me slightly, Monica's head back against
my chest as she aided me in my maneuvering.

  Careful not to move too much for fear of breaking the
incredible seal between our bodies, her outer lips I could now
see stretched out around the three inches of girth of my manhood,
I began to rock her body up and down on my legs, a grunt from my
lips and a moan from hers now the only noises of the room, save
the distant sound of the AC unit. My ass stuck slightly to the
seat, the sweat and juices of our bodies creating a suction sound
as I thrust my hips forward, anxious to feel the deepness of her
pussy around my shaft as deep as possible. Flexing the head of my
dick, I felt the edges expand and brush against her inner wall,
causing Monica to moan louder as our flesh became one again
inside of her body.

  Moving one hand away from her thigh, I placed it at the small
of her back and moved it upward, gently pushing Monica forward so
that her body responded to my touch, her head lowering down
towards the desk. She was like putty in my hands, responding to
every push and pull I gave her as I continued my slow thrust
inside of her, feeling the smooth skin of her back beneath my
hand as it came to rest against her neck, holding her down
slightly against the desk, Monica's hands reaching out to grip
onto the desk tightly as I held her forward, my hips now
thrusting into her at a better angle. She lowered her forehead to
the desk, holding it there as I could see her eyes closed, her
lips parted in a frozen gasp of pleasure, hot breath escaping
from them.

  We continued like that for what felt like an eternity, Monica
bent over slightly at the waist as my dick slid in and out of her
halfway, rocking up and down along her crevice, the base of my
shaft brushing her clit occasionally, making her body tense up
above me. She knew that the torrent of sexual release was coming
quickly for her, the slowness of our love making not enough to
stop the inevitable tide of arousal that was destined to come.

  Keeping my hand where it was against her neck, a finger
touching a stray lock of hair that had fallen around her neck,
feeling the softness between my spread fingers as I held it firm,
I moved my other hand to her tummy, wrapping my forearm around
her waist as I continued to raise her up and down off of me.
Monica was lost to her sexual inhibitions now, her body simply
responding as her mind was racked with pleasure. I couldn't claim
much better, as every hair on my body seemed to be swaying and
moving to the touch of her soft skin, the firmness of her stomach
and the bottom of her breasts that occasionally would brush
against the back of my hand, their soft flesh cresting and
falling against me on our circular rhythm of love making. I held
her like this for a moment longer, increasing the pace slightly
as Monica finally lifted her head from the desk, her hair falling
over her eyes as she looked back at me, no words being said at
all as we committed this act of adultery for her, cheating for
me. Where we were from, the fact that she was from a completely
different country and a completely different culture made no
difference on the simple fact that we were two people enjoying
the most intimate of feelings with one another.

  Monica pushed her ass hard against me as I released half of my
dick from her tightly grasping pussy, her body begging for more
as it strove to reach it's own tidal opening. I allowed her this
simple pleasure as she bucked the back of her body against me
with all the might she could muster after the slowly sapped
strength of her body, feeling the hard nub between her legs held
hard and firm against my shaft. She thrust backwards once more as
she finally achieved her bliss, her knuckles whitening on the
desk that she held so tightly to, a lone "Unnggghh" escaping from
her lips before fading away in the soft falling of her voice.

  She grinded her hips against me, savoring the feeling of my
touch all over her body as I felt goose bumps arrive for a few
seconds, the pinnacle of her orgasm, before they too crested off,
the moment of bliss passing away from her body after a long and
slow build up, the after shocking waves still giving her a
radiating strength that ensured that my own orgasm would not go
without the proper attention being paid. Monica held firmly to
the desk still, her fingernails digging deep into the blotter and
wood of the desk, the rest of her body still as she grasped and
held onto me as firmly as possible. She finally began to move and
stir, beginning to respond to my now aching balls and the release
that I wanted to achieve so badly, though I was certainly torn at
having to end at such a pleasurable place, the current grasping
and build up more than enough pleasure for any one man.

  I lifted her up from the desk, her body limp and yet still
responsive to my touch as I slid my hand over her nipple, feeling
it's softness against the roughness of my palm. Thrusting into
her now, her body prone on top of mine, she was mine to use and
gratify myself with, the willing price paid for taking her to the
level that I did moments earlier. My balls began to tingle again
between her legs as I held onto her waist with one hand, her
breast the other, bouncing her body against my own as I slammed
into her with a growing intensity. The motions of our moving made
her rise and fall quicker than before, each agonizing millisecond
outside of her pussy reclaimed by the feeling of her body sliding
once more over my shaft.

  Pushing as hard as I could now with her weight on top of me, I
gripped Monica's body tightly above me, my cock drilling into her
more and more with each thrust, almost reaching the bottoming out
point of this luscious hole, this incredibly wonderful channel of
love that didn't want to let me go, nor I to leave it. Our
rocking became more feverant now, the tension in my balls begging
for release, aching and willing me on to hit that one point of
bliss that would release the waves of pleasure all throughout my
body. It didn't take long to arrive, as I felt every ridge and
bump and nerve in my shaft brush once more against her soft hole,
the overwhelming intensity of being inside such a beautiful
creature as Monica finally breaking through the defense of my
brain that I had created to keep from releasing too quickly.

  I slammed her down firm onto my legs, not unlike the own hard
thrusting Monica herself had done a few minutes earlier, I felt
my orgasm build and then release like an explosion from my body,
the hot delivery of my load coating the inside of her inner
walls, spurt after spurt sending me so far over the edge of bliss
that I felt dizzy, our fluids mingling with one another. I
grunted into Monica's back as I held her still on my hips,
waiting for that final moment of bliss to fade, signified by the
last gasping shot of my come inside of her body. As it escaped
from me, I felt the hardness of my prick begin to diminish,
though still evident, as I released my tight grip on Monica's
body and allowed her to collapse forward onto the desk slightly.

  She moved her ass away from my body, both of us breathing
heavily as we dripped sweat onto one another, her back and sides
wet with it all over, a lone drop accumulating at her shoulder
blade as it slid down the soft contours of her body and down her
arm pit where it disappeared from my site, falling onto the
floor. Monica raised herself off of me and slowly slid out away
from the desk onto the floor, where she laid prone, her eyes
closed tightly but a blissful smile on her lips, her sweating and
exhausted body sprawled out on the floor.

  I reclined back in my chair, sighing loudly as the last glow of
orgasm faded from my mind. Wiping the sweat away from my face and
forehead, I closed my eyes for a moment before opening them again
and swiveling my chair to look down at Monica. She lay with one
leg slightly crossed over the other, though neither did much to
conceal her sex, as she spread her arms out above her head, her
hair a weaving mess extended all over the floor.
  
  My mind still swam slightly from the sex, the feel of Monica's
skin against my own still registering like a radiating glow on my
body. Drifting, I thought about leaving this behind or at least
stepping back slightly from my involvement. If the perks for my
time here in Hollywood were any indication of the activities of
this afternoon, leaving might not be such a smart idea. Here I
had a beautiful woman trying to get me to stay, who was I to turn
that down, even if the sex was just that, sex? There was nothing
yet to indicate that I had to go along with the ideology behind
it, especially since Monica's gesture had seemed to be genuine.

  I gazed down at her with a smile, devouring the site of her
nude form as it lay a few feet beneath me, my prick softening
against my belly as the juices of her body were absorbed into my
own. Propping my chin up on my palm, I continued to look at her
when, though to this day I still don't know why, I saw something
I had never seen before.

  Bolting quickly out of the chair, I grabbed my boxers and pants
off the floor, taking my shirt from the other side of where
Monica lay as I quickly slid it over my body. Stepping over her,
I walked with a hurried pace around her and out of the room. My
movement must have roused her from the state she was in, for as I
opened the door, I heard her worried voice call to me.

  "Alex? Alex, what's wrong?" she said, but I was already out the
door and down the hall as it faded in my ears.

  I couldn't shake the image of what I saw, of what now gleamed
like a taunting joker face in front of my mind's eye.

  Nestled covertly between her thighs, in a position where only
the proper angle and proper light would catch it, was the symbol.
The circle with the prongs pointing in each of the main
directions, the same lightning bolt "z", right there in the
middle of it. Small and faint as it was, there was no mistaking
it. It was the same symbol I had seen on Hapsboro's card.




KATHERINE'S STORY:

  Taking a deep breath, I stood before the ominous heavy oak door
in front of me. It's edges were outlined with classical wood
sculpting, hand carved vines and leaves combing up and down the
sides of the frame. A heavy brass handle rests in the mid-right
of the door, a knocker only a few inches above it. A pair of
halogen lights, not on even in the dimming daylight, stand like
silent watchmen about 3/4 of the way up the door, a cobweb
hanging from the back of one.

  The house itself, if you even want to call it a house (mansion
might be more appropriate) looks fairly normal and in place with
the neighboring houses a hundred yards or so off to each side.
The windows along the first floor are drawn closed with blinds,
no hint of the interior visible to the outside world. If it
wasn't for the line of hastily parked sports cars in the sloping
drive way ten feet away or so, the place would look elegant but
empty.

  I placed my hand on the brass handle, the metal cold even in
the summer heat against my flesh, but I remove it a moment later,
opting instead for the matching knocker in the middle of the
door. Wrapping it tightly in my fingers, I knock it hard against
the wood three times, the sound of metal striking wood dulled by
the thickness of the door.

  Releasing the knocker, I take a step back and wait for the
mansion's occupants to open the door for me. I had been told only
yesterday to meet here, my "initiation" now due into whatever
twisted world I had gotten myself into when I agreed to work for
Wilton Willis. I truly didn't know what I was getting myself
into, my body on edge as adrenaline pumped through my veins, the
anxiousness of finding out what lay behind that wooden door
almost making my hands shake against my sides. I placed my hands
on my skirt, smoothing out the silky material as I adjusted my
appearance. I hadn't known what really to wear, so I chose simply
a floral skirt and a white top that was comfortable and fitting
against my body.

  Though only seconds had passed, they felt like an eternity as I
stood there waiting for the door to open. I focused my attention
on the inside of the house, staring hard into the door as I
listened for movement inside. There was some - at least two pairs
of legs walking and moving around quickly behind the door. The
noise suddenly stopped however, just as quickly as it had
arrived, and I was about to write it off to my own blood pumping
in my ears, when I heard the unmistakable sound of metal sliding
out of a lock on the other side, the door shuddering slightly as
it opened slowly.

  The door opened a few feet wide, enough for me to see the dim
lights inside for a moment before a head appeared in the opening
left by the door. I saw the curly blonde hair first before I even
connected the face: Kate Hudson, the daughter of Hollywood
veteran Goldie Hawn, though the young Kate was undoubtedly a star
in her own right. She looked at me with a blank stare for a
moment before her eyes lit up in a realization of who I was. She
smiled widely as she opened the door wider, giving me now a
better view of her body. I was startled for a moment to see that
she wore nothing but a lavender transparent piece of clothing,
lingerie really, over her body, her nipples pressing against the
constraints of the fabric from her small breasts.

  Kate turned her head and called off to a person that I couldn't
see further into the house.

  "She's here!" Kate bubbled excitedly, opening the door wider
now to allow me to step in. I walked into the house enough for
Kate to close the door behind me with a resounding thud, the
noise echoing through the walls of themansion. As my eyes
adjusted to the light, I could make out more details inside,
things I couldn't have seen from the setting sun behind my back.
The room I was in was part of a massive lower area, a wall off at
the very end of this foyer, forming a sort of boxed in look just
out of sight, the doorway leading to who knew what. The rest of
the room was very sparse in design: a large rug on the hardwood,
very old looking floor, a pair of leather couches positioned in
an L shape around a glass coffee table and a fire place off on
the right wall. The most striking feature of the room though had
to be the massive staircase that dominated the middle of the
room, it's spiral shape leading off to an upstairs floor that I
could only see half of, thanks to the dimly lit lights of the
main hallway. It's steps were carpeted in a rich velvet looking
material, the banisters all thick wood held up by even thicker
rectangular poles rising along the edges of the stairs. The
entire thing evoked memories of Scarlet O'Hara's mansion in "Gone
With the Wind", a movie I had watched many times as a little
girl. But whereas that classic had evoked feelings of happiness
within me, this place seemed dank and more than a little
frightening in it's darkly lit corners and massiveexpansiveness.

  Kate stood in front of me, sizing me up it seemed, as she
looked me up from head to toe. I could see her outfit (or lack
thereof) better now: she wasn't completely naked, but the
lavender garment she wore covered every part of her body barely,
stopping at her thighs, a pair of matching panties thin and small
around her tiny waist. With her golden hair and beaming eyes,
Kate had a look of some mythical nymph, freshly awakened from a
spring morning to romp around the forest looking to satisfy her
sexual lust.

  "Well, the clothes have got to go," she said a bit demandingly.
"You can do it now, or wait till the Mistress gets here. Up to
you. But if I were you...I'd strip down to at least your bra and
panties now before she gets here,"

  With that, Kate turned and walked deeper into the room, her
tiny ass swishing slightly as she moved, her body having been
blessed with not a single inch of fat or excess skin thanks to
her lithe frame. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, watching
her walk. Kate non-chalantly reached down and pulled off the
lingerie, shaking her hair free as she tossed it lazily onto the
floor. Her exposed back, smooth and glowing it seemed in the
light of the room, disappeared from my sight as she walked deeper
into the room, practically vanishing like a ghost.

  Not wanting to be left standing there alone, I hustled to catch
up to her until I could see her completely, her bare feet padding
lightly on the floor of the mansion as she drew closer to the
couches. I could make out another form kneeling by the sofa,
their legs tucked underneath them as they leaned over the glass
table.

  The room was suddenly filled with a very loud snorting sound
and as I finally could make out the furniture, I could see why.
Alicia Witt, the redheaded actress who had made a name for
herself as a sort of vamp in movies, threw her head back in
contentment as she lifted it from the table. Even in the poor
light of the room, the lines of white powder sliced neatly on the
table were unmistakable to me. She wore a simple silk green robe
around her body, the waist of which was not pulled too tightly
against her, leaving ample room for the exposure of her cleavage,
her nipples on each breast almost visible as they held themselves
against the silk of the robe. Alicia lay back against one of the
sofas, her arms extended over her head as she relaxed completely
with her eyes closed and her lips half parted in a sigh of
pleasure. She lightly brushed the back of her hand underneath her
nose, wiping away a fine residue of powder as she opened her eyes
to see Kate standing over her. I stood watching for a moment,
still a few feet away from them as Kate bent down next to Alicia.
Kneeling, her breasts jostling slightly from her thin frame, Kate
pulled her long blonde hair back and put her face to the table,
the room again filling with that unmistakable sound of people
getting high.

  Alicia watched Kate as she did another line, rubbing her hand
across Kate's panty clad ass as the Oscar nominated actress
scooted back and sat on the couch. Alicia roamed her hand up and
down Kate's extended thigh, the blonde reclining on the couch now
as she draped her legs over one of the arms. They seemed
oblivious to me for a few moments, lost in their own drug induced
haze for a moment before Alicia stopped her stroking of Kate and
looked up at me.

  "Hi Katherine, glad you decided to come," Alicia said, her
eyelids fluttering at me as a sly smile crossed her face. "We
have a lot of fun planned for you,"

  I stood awkwardly for a moment, replying a soft hello to her as
I glanced around the room more. Alicia reached over to the table
and lifted off the tray with the coke on it and held it out
towards me.

  "You're welcome to some if you want. It will make the whole
night a blast, trust me," Alicia said.

  "No, that's alright," I said, my heart beating in my chest. I
didn't really care that people got high every now and then, nor
that they offered to share with me. I was more struck by the
casualness of the whole situation, as the alarming idea that this
sort of thing was nothing new to them, something they did
routinely, crossed into my head.

  Alicia shrugged and set the tray back down. Next to it was a
small plastic bag and a pipe, the pipe already filled almost to
the brim with marijuana. Alicia lifted it and a nearby lighter
from the table, pulling the pipe (marble decorated with a shiny
brass bowl in the middle) to her mouth, the lighter poised over
the plant, ready to be struck. Kate sat up now, watching Alicia
as the redhead pulled it to her mouth, lighting the bowl deftly
and inhaling deeply as the odor of the burnt drug quickly began
to fill the area around us. Alicia pulled the pipe away quickly,
her cheeks bulging as she held in the smoke for as long as
possible, finally letting out a soft sigh as the smoke billowed
out from her lips and danced around her face.

  Kate reached over and took the pipe from Alicia, holding it out
to me now.

  "Come on Katherine, a little bit of grass won't hurt ya," she
said, smiling at me. I moved towards her and took the pipe gently
from her hand, the lighter included and took it to my mouth. Pot
was one thing I didn't mind doing on occasion and the calming
effects of it might ease my already jumpy nerves.

  The two girls watched me as I placed the end in my mouth and,
though not as skillfully as Alicia, managed to get a bright
orange flame within a strike or two. Lowering over the end, I
sucked in the smoke, the bitter burning quickly touching the back
of my throat and making it tingle as I lowered the lighter, the
intense heat fading as the flame went out.

  I tried to be as cool and collected as possible as I felt my
body start to surge in a quest for air, holding the smoke in for
as long as possible even though my eyes had started to water a
bit from the lack of oxygen. The pot was very strong, very potent
stuff and as I finally released the smoke from my mouth with a
half cough, half gasp, I could already start to feel the familiar
tingling of it's effects just starting to take place.

  Kate smiled at me and took the pipe from my hands, shifting
it's contents around slightly before she did two quick hits off
of it, the once green and sticky plant now just a pile of ash in
the bowl. Kate held it in longer than Alicia or I and seemed to
have no trouble at all exhaling, the cool poise of her abilities
very striking to me. She set the pipe and lighter back down on
the table with a soft clink and stood up from the couch, walking
over towards me.

  "Tsk tsk, I thought I told you to take off those clothes," she
said dreamily, her eyes bloodshot and her eyelids fluttering half
closed the same way Alicia's had. Kate stepped in front of me and
put her hands at the base of my shirt, lifting it up slowly over
my body. I could really feel the drug kicking in now so any
resistance or hesitation was starting to quickly fade from me. I
bent over slightly as Kate removed the garment from my body,
tossing it lazily on the couch as she stepped back to examine me.
Alicia had gotten to her feet as well and now both girls moved to
flank me as I stood there, letting them control my actions almost
completely.

  I felt Alicia's hand on my back as she undid the clasp of my
bra, Kate pulling down the bra straps from both shoulders as the
bra too fell away from me. The musty, sticky air of the house
made my nipples tingle slightly as they were exposed to the room
for the first time, a light sweat breaking out on my chest as I
felt my heart beat faster inside my throat. Alicia rubbed her
hands up my arm from shoulder to elbow, feeling my skin against
her own hands and fingers. Kate was occupied with my stomach and
back however as I felt her slide her arms around me, caressing my
bare flesh as she leaned in closer to me, her body an inch or so
away from me, the heat from her nakedness radiating against my
willing flesh.

  Alicia stopped her stroking of my arms and lowered her head to
my breast, her tongue easing out from her mouth slowly as I felt
it touch and brush my nipple, making me jump involuntarily. She
placed her entire mouth over my nipple, sucking on it like a baby
as she glided her tongue across my quickly hardening nipple. Kate
slid her hand up my back and stroked my neck with her fingers,
the small hairs seeming to dance at her touch as she brushed her
fingertips across the hairs. Alicia moved her mouth from one
breast to the other, cupping them both in her hands as she
suckled at me, the edges of her teeth biting down gently on my
left nipple.

  I was completely at their mercy at this point, things moving
slowly in my mind as my body reacted without thinking to the
caresses and touches that were taking place. I felt like I was
watching myself from outside my body, watching someone else get
teased and pleasured by two of Hollywood's rising stars. I felt
my hand rise by itself to Kate's lower back, my fingers starting
to slide of their own accord down the back of her skimpy panties,
caressing the start of her ass as they slid lower. Kate sighed
loudly against me, her hot breath making my skin tingle again as
she searched for the clasp on the back of my skirt to remove it.
She had found it and with the help of Alicia managed to slide it
off of me, the fabric brushing my bare legs as it fell to the
floor, before all three of us jumped at the sound of a voice off
to our left.

  "HEY!" the voice said, commanding and more than just a little
pissed off sounding. "What the fuck are you bitches doing?"

  As quickly as they had started, Alicia and Kate dropped their
arms from my body and stepped back two steps, like children
caught stealing from a cookie jar, Kate's eyes falling to the
floor as she looked down guiltily. Alicia was more brazen,
looking in the direction of the voice as she crossed her arms
across her body, one of her breasts spilling out against her
forearm, though she still looked a little ashamed at what she was
doing. Still in my lazy dream sort of state, I turned my head to
follow the sound, realizing only slightly in the back of my mind
that I was now just as naked as Kate.

  Stepping out quickly from a room beneath the massive staircase
came Eliza Dushku, a scowl on her face as she looked at the three
of us with contempt. Like the other girls, she was dressed in a
skimpy outfit, comprised of a red teddy and matching stockings
that came up to her thighs. Her dark hair swooshed out behind her
as she moved towards us, anger in her eyes.

  "What the hell did I tell you?" she said, one hand on her hip.
Silence.

  "WHAT THE HELL DID I TELL YOU?" she said again, louder this
time, her voice echoing off the walls of the house.

  Alicia now looked down at the floor.

  "Don't start until the Mistress gets here," she said in a
defeated voice.

  "Damn straight! We have this all planned out and you two
thought that you would just get yourselves some before we got
started, didn't you?"

  Kate giggled. "Hehe...get yourselves some..."

  Eliza snapped her head towards Kate. "You think this isfunny?"

  Kate straightened up in her posture, her eyes never leaving the
floor. "No madam,"

  "Good. Now you two have a seat and don't move until I or the
Mistress says, alright?" Eliza barked. The two girls quickly
retreated to a sofa each and sat down, leaving just me standing
there in the war path of Eliza.

  Surprisingly though, her mask of anger quickly turned to one of
casual regard.

  "Sorry Katherine, I can't leave these two nymphs alone for 10
minutes when we have a new member coming in. I hope they didn't
do anything to you?"

  I slowly felt myself returning to my mind, my answer and voice
coming a little slowly, or so it felt.

  "No, we just smoked some pot and they helped me get undressed,"
I said, my voice sounding like it was coming from a far away
place.

  Eliza looked from Alicia and Kate to me, then back at them, her
head turned.

  "Well, that's good at least. You need to save your strength for
tonight but I guess that a little pharmacological boost wouldn't
hurt," she said. "Are you ok? Comfortable? You want a robe or
something?

  I was a little taken aback by her sudden thoughtfulness and
couldn't help but smile.

  "That's ok, I'm fine,"

  Eliza sighed loudly, her nostrils flaring slightly. She walked
over to the table and wiped up some stray powder with her finger,
smearing it into her mouth. Standing back in front of me, she
took me by the arm.

  "Here, let's have a seat," she said, leading me and my heavy
lead feet towards a set of chairs I hadn't noticed behind the
couches. They were leather and oversized and as Eliza pushed me
gently into the one across from her, they felt incredibly
comfortable against my body, the smoothness rubbing against my
back. Eliza crossed her legs like a proper lady (only later would
this seem a bit absurd to me) and shook her hair over her
shoulder.

  "Now, before we begin, let me explain why you are here and what
we have in store for you tonight, ok?"

  I nodded sleepily, my eyes suddenly feeling heavy in the
comfort of the chair. I did manage to focus my attention on her
words however.

  "We heard about your performance at the club last night, and
the Mistress thought that if you could prove yourself as a top
lady there for all those pigs, you were deserving of taking
things to the next level. So you are here tonight to join an
elite list of Hollywood actresses, singers and athletes who have
'made it' in this cut throat business," Eliza said. "Our
organization, the Rose Petal Club, operates under a few basic
rules. One: Anything you have to do for your career is perfectly
acceptable and in fact encouraged by the Club. Even though it
appears that men make the rules in this business, these same men
also know that the power of a woman's touch goes miles farther
than any signed contract ever could. So we operate with their
endorsement and approval, with our own agenda and independent
from the vile reaches of agents and the media. Two: What we do as
members stays within the organization. Meaning, you can never
tell outsiders about your exploits or what you may have to do for
your fellow sisters in the Club, as a matter of secrecy and to
keep up appearances to the same men who oversee our existence.
Three: Once you leave here tonight, you are in for life. This
comes with all the perks: better acting roles, more money,
whatever you could possibly want, is yours. All you have to do is
explain it to your sisters during one of our monthly meetings and
it will be done. It also comes with a lot of responsibility and
commitment to use your womanly talents for whatever desires our
men oversees wish. You can never refuse them, no matter how vile
you think the request. If you do...well, let's not get into
that,"

  "Four, " Eliza said, taking a breath. "Enjoy yourself. Live
your life how you want, date who you want and marry who you want.
Hell, some of our older members have kids and everything and they
are perfectly happy. True, you have to be on call practically for
whenever a sister or a higher up wants something, but these
instances are usually few and far between, so don't sweat them.
Finally, the Mistress is ALWAYS right. She is appointed head of
the Rose Petal Club for as long as she wishes to remain that way
and whatever she wants takes precedence over anything or anyone
else. You'll meet her soon and I'm sure you will learn to love
her as all the rest of us have,"

  Eliza finished her speech, the words still sinking into my
ears. I felt some apprehension about the whole thing, deep down,
but what could I do? It was too late to back out now, and even
though I hated a lot of the times that I was forced to perform
sexual favors for people, surely being an official member now
would make things better, right? My head swam as I thought over
all this slowly, Eliza watching me for a response of some sort.

  "Any questions?" she asked.

  I thought for a moment and then blurted out the first thing
that came into my head.

  "Are there other houses like this with drugs and lesbians and
stuff?" I said, realizing as soon as I said it how immature and
childish it sounded.

  Eliza laughed at the question, leaning her head back for a
moment as she seemed to relish what I had said. She was still
chuckling when she replied.

  "Well, there is another mansion like this out in Malibu where a
lot of actresses, some who are members and some who aren't, go to
hang out and play with one another. It's nothing like this
though.  That's just fucking. But as a rule of thumb, no. Our
meetings are always spontaneous and our headquarters are wherever
there is a place for members who might be able to get there
fairly quickly. After tonight, we probably won't be back at this
house for a while. It keeps those who want to bring us down on
their toes," Eliza said, still giggling slightly from my idiotic
question. I tried to think of a follow up that was more mature.

  "The Rose Petals have enemies?" I asked.

  "Not as in written down or verbally declared enemies, but yeah,
some people don't like us. It's mostly bitches who didn't make
the cut or who just couldn't hack it, but I hear that there are
some men involved too. Any ways, that's not important. Do you
have any other questions?" she said, putting her hands on the
chair as she stood up. I mimicked her moves as I slowly rose from
the chair myself, my legs feeling a little shaky.

  "No, I don't think so. Not right now I don't think," I said,
managing to retain my balance.

  "Good. If you have any, just let me know and I'll be happy to
answer them. In the meantime, let's get started," she said,
walking off towards Kate and Alicia. "The mistress should be down
here in just a minute,"

  Following her was like walking in a tunnel, my buzz from the
pot making even the dark room seem brightly lit. I could feel
something - anticipation? anxiousness? - as I walked, trailing
Eliza. There was no mistake in my mind now, obviously, that all
of this and all of these other women were involved in something
bigger than us, something that just when you thought you had
found the end of, miles more distance opened before you. I knew
that there was something troubling about a world that propped
itself up on sexual favors and back scratching, of secret
societies and hidden agendas, but what was I to do? I had been
allowed into this inner circle and now the only way to see the
forest for the trees around me was to immerse myself in it as
objectively as possible, look like I was playing by their rules
while still playing by my own. Thinking of Alex Hilt, the
handsome writer who had stumbled into this whole thing
accidentally, I wondered what he would think, if he would even
believe me should I find the courage to tell him about the Rose
Petals.

  Eliza stopped in front of the massive staircase, standing there
and staring up at the second floor intently. I stayed a few feet
behind her and watched as she focused her entire attention on
whomever the person that was arriving soon would be. Kate and
Alicia were giggling behind me, oblivious to the rest of the room
as they no doubt played with each other in their drug induced
state.

  Eliza's gaze I could now see was focused on the left side of
the upper area of the mansion, and in the light of the room I
could see a door at the end of the hall. Without turning her
head, Eliza softly said:

  "Watch. The Mistress is coming any second now. I know she will
love you, and you her. You should be so happy Katherine, you have
been chosen,"

  Even in my stoned state I knew that the words she said were a
little creepy, almost cult like, but I too found my attention
focused on the door. It opened a few seconds later, a figure
emerging. Eliza gasped suddenly, as if struck with an epiphany of
some sort. She rushed over to the base of the stairs, placing one
leg on the bottom as she looked up. I could see the figure, a
woman with long flowing hair, moving down the hallway and
beginning to descend the stairs. The angle of the light in the
room was such that her face was shadowed from me as she walked,
her now clearly dark black hair covering half of her face.
Climbing up two more steps, Eliza held her hand out to the woman
and guided her the rest of the way down to the floor. It was only
in the light at the base of the stairs that I finally got a good
look at her.

  "Greetings Katherine, welcome to the Rose Petals Club," she
said.

  I was a little taken aback, it now being my turn to gasp
slightly. The Mistress that Eliza had seemed so intent on
worshipping was someone I had not expected in the slightest:
Salma Hayek. There was no mistaking it was her, from the supple
curves of her waist to the oval shape of her face and her
slightly pursed lips, the way in which she carried herself made
it clearly evident that Salma was the Mistress behind all of
this.

  "Hhhhello Salma," I said weakly, still probably looking
dumbfounded. She seemed so normal and innocent whenever I had
seen her around Hollywood, how had she managed to hide her real
activities so well?

  "I trust Eliza here has explained everything to you?" Salma
said, waving her hand out gallantly as if the mansion was some
sort of medieval kingdom. Clinging to her side was Eliza, who
seemed oblivious to the rest of the world, her eyes looking up at
Salma's face as she spoke, watching her arm as it moved. She
seemed like a puppy dog, devoted completely to it's owner,
following behind in it's footsteps wherever the owner went. As my
eyes locked on Salma's, I started to understand why: far from
being an outwardly friendly gaze, Salma's look held within it a
forcefulness that made you want to follow her every instruction.

  "Yes. She has Salma," I said.

  "Call me Mistress," Salma said, rebuking me. I was startled
slightly by the hint of aggression in her tone, but something
told me that it was best to humor her.

  "Yes Mistress," I replied, tearing my eyes away from hers.

  "That's better," Salma said with a smile. She looked down at
Eliza. "Well, don't just stand there bitch, remove your Mistress'
robe.

  In my quest to see her face as she descended the stairs, I
hadn't even noticed what Salma was wearing. Looking now, the
first thing that caught my eye was the thick leather boots that
elevated her a few inches from the ground and reached all the way
up to her thighs. Barely covering the rest of her body was a
black negligee that hung on her dark skinned form like a second
skin, the bottom without the usual frills of lingerie, simply
ending a few inches above her thighs. Over her shoulders was a
silk robe that spread out behind her when she moved, the material
thin enough that I could see the rich Latin skin of her shoulders
beneath it. Her black hair hung over the robe behind her and as
she stood there with a look of impatience on her face, I detected
the faint whiff of a perfume applied hours ago to her body.

  Eliza scrambled quickly behind Salma and gently removed the
robe from her shoulders, folding it across her arm and carrying
it over to the banister of the stairs where she draped it across.
Salma and I watched her do this and when Eliza obediently
returned to her side, Salma spoke again.

  "MMm...you really are quite delectable aren't you?" she said,
placing her finger on my neck and gently sliding it up under my
chin. I flinched a little at her touch - I never liked strangers
touching me, famous or not - which seemed to irritate Salma. She
removed her hand quickly from my chin and then slapped me across
the cheek hard, almost sending me reeling to the floor.

  "Bitch, you will learn to let me touch you," she barked at me
as I wobbled on my legs and moved back to her.

  "Yes Mistress," I said, placing my arms at my sides as she
moved closer to me. Walking around me, her hand trailing once
again from my chin to my shoulders to my back to my ass to my
stomach to my breasts, she completed her circle around me and had
a satisfied smile on her face as she shook her head back and
forth.

  "I don't know where Eliza finds cunts like you, but I am
certainly glad she did. I am going to enjoy this," she said,
leaning her face into mine. I felt her lips press against my own
and had to fight hard the urge to pull my head away. My cheek
still stung from the slap and it was obvious that any more
assertions of free will would lead to more violence. Salma
stepped away and turned to Eliza.

  "Get the bag," she said dryly as she again looked me over from
head to toe. My heart was beating wildly in my chest now, a wave
of emotions running their course as I tried to regain control of
myself in the situation. Why did I let her slap me? How far would
she go?

  Running to the far room of the main floor that I hadn't seen,
Eliza returned a moment later, slightly out of breath.
  
  Salma chided her like a mother. "You stop that smoking, little
runs like that won't leave you panting so much,"

  "Yes Mistress, I'll try to do that," Eliza said, handing Salma
the bag.

  "Follow me Katherine," Salma said, turning toward the first two
couches where Alicia and Kate were. Approaching them, I wasn't
surprised in the slightest to find the two other girls on top of
each other in a 69 position. Kate's head was lifted from the
ground as she licked furiously at Alicia's swollen and exposed
pussy, the patch of red hair above it glistening in the light of
some nearby incense. Being on top, all I saw was the back of
Alicia's head and her small, firm ass as she grinded herself into
Kate's body, her hair swaying all over the place between Kate's
legs.

  "Get up," Salma said. Like someone struck with lightning, the
two girls jumped off of each other instantly, Kate crawling on
her hands and knees over to Alicia, who had cowered a bit against
the far end of the sofa. They leaned into each other and giggled
as they watched Salma, myself and Eliza move towards the larger
of the two couches. Alicia's face was flushed and red from being
held tightly between Kate's legs, and there was a slight hint of
moisture on her face, not to mention a sly look of satisfaction.
Kate sat Indian-style with her legs crossed, her small chest
heaving a little bit as she caught her breath, while Alicia had
her knees raised to her chin, her pussy lips exposed to anyone
who might care to look.

  Salma stopped in front of the couch and pointed towards a
pillow on the far end.

  "Here Katherine, lay down. We just have one final thing to do
before you are a Rose Petals member for life," Salma said gently.
It was unsettling to see her jump from unstable bitch to soothing
friend without even the slightest bit of thought or outward
change, but again I complied with her request and laid down.
Eliza hovered over me, reaching down to remove my panties. I
fought for just a second, keeping my legs crossed, but as Salma's
hand touched my leg, I found myself opening them easily, allowing
the last bit of clothing I wore to be completely removed.

  Setting the back down on the floor beside her, Salma crawled
onto the couch, putting her knees beneath her as she sat down.
She smiled up at me.

  "To make sure your loyalties run as deep as Eliza and other
members have said they do, we unfortunately must put you through
a bit of pain as the final step of your initiation," Salma said.
"Don't worry though, it won't take too long, nor will it hurt
that much. We have ways of taking your mind off the pain. Here
Eliza, show her what you are going to do,"

  Eliza moved over to where my head was reclined and pulled the
teddy she wore aside slightly. Pointing, I saw a small tattoo of
a circle just below her right hip, inches away from the narrow
strip of pubic hair she had all but shaved off.

  "A tattoo?" I asked, looking from Eliza's bare skin to Salma.

  "Think of it as a sort of brand. A way to know where you
allegiances lie. It should heal in a few days, and Eliza has done
lots of these before, so you are in good hands," Salma said.
"Now, lie very still. I'm going to hold your legs down so that
you don't accidentally kick Eliza, ok? Do you have a preference
for where it goes?"

  "Can I get it on my shoulder? I've always wanted one there," I
said.

  Salma laughed. "No dear Katherine, I'm afraid not. Should you
be attending a premiere of some sort and you were bare
shouldered, think of what would happen if the press took a photo?
No, it's too much risk. It needs to be in a place where only
lovers and your sisters would be able to see," she said

  I thought about it, trying to decide where would be the least
painful. Quite frankly, I didn't want a tattoo at all, especially
not one that would "brand" me, but again I felt myself powerless
to the controls of Salma and this entire experience.

  "My hip...I guess..." I said softly, resigning myself to the
fated spot.

  "Excellent choice. Now just lay back and relax. You'll feel
some initial pain at first but it should pass quickly," Salma
said, stroking her hand up my leg. Eliza, now having been given
full instructions, kneeled down onto the floor by the bag and
pulled out a container of ink and an electric, battery operated
needle. Turning it on, it buzzed to life in the room, drawing the
attention of Kate and Alicia, who had moved from the couch over
to the edge of the table where they now sat, watching like two
little children.

  I felt Salma's grip on my legs tighten as Eliza leaned over me,
an alcohol swab in her hand. She dabbed it just below my left
hip, the cool sensation of the alcohol making my skin tingle as
she gently brushed it away. She was all business now as she laid
one arm across my nude lower half and used the other to aim the
needle towards me. The buzzing grew louder as I felt the tip of
the needle pierce my skin.

  It hurt. It hurt like hell. I reacted wildly, screaming in pain
as the needle bore deeper into my skin. My hips bounced off the
sofa and I almost bucked Salma off completely, but she reacted
smoothly and pressed her entire weight on me, holding me down.
Eliza too almost came off, the needle at a diagonal angle in me
as I watched, but within a second she had withdrawn it. I panted
and managed to catch my breath for a moment, but it was brief as
I felt the needle plunge in again, almost in the exact same spot.
I had seen plenty of people get tattoos before, but I had never
liked needles and as such watching them dig into your skin was a
pretty nerve racking experience. I forced myself to look at what
Eliza was doing, her face a mask of concentration. I thought I
would see blood oozing out of me but I was startled to see simply
a red looking spot on my thigh where the needle went in, and a
small black dot beginning to form.

  Eliza got a rhythm going as she pushed the needle in, the steel
going a bit inside and then pulling it out slowly and gently,
then repeating the process. It still hurt every time she did it,
but the initial shock was starting to fade. I could feel the spot
where she was applying the tattoo start to throb a little bit and
the look of pain on my face must have registered to Eliza even
through her veil of concentration.

  "She's in a lot of pain Mistress. Maybe you should make her
feel better," Eliza said casually, not looking up from what she
was doing.

  "Hmmm...yes, that does seem to make the process easier," Salma
said. I caught her eye for a second as she smiled at me. Pulling
her hair back over her shoulder, Salma lowered her head between
my legs, her hot breath hon my pussy as she moved a hand down and
gently parted my inner lips. Placing her mouth atop my sex, I
squirmed a bit as I felt her tongue ease out from her mouth and
into my body.

  Licking around my pussy, Salma's tongue thrust hard into my
snatch, exploring the inner depths of it. As she brushed across
my clit tenderly, I felt a surge of excitement course through my
body, overwhelming the painful sensation of Eliza's ever diligent
needle. Salma began to suck on my pussy with her lips, tasting my
slowly trickling juices as she pleasured me in an attempt to
distract me from Eliza's work. It worked amazingly well, as her
pace began to quicken between my legs; Salma was a woman who
certainly knew what other women needed in order to get off. I
struggled to lay still as I felt her snake like tongue licking
around inside of me, her nose nestled atop my pubic hair as she
ate me out, moving her mouth back slightly as she held some of my
outer pussy lips between her own lips. My body began to feel hot
and excited and I watched Salma as she looked up at me, her face
burrowed between my legs, lapping away at my clit.

  The tip of her teeth glided across my sensitive nub and I came
in a slight orgasm, more juice spilling out between my legs. This
seemed to please Salma, but as the sensations of bliss ebbed from
my body, I could once again feel the pain of the tattoo, which
Eliza was fairly far along into now, a half circle clearly made
out despite the swelling of the area where the needle plunged.
Salma continued to lick at me and taste my pussy as I felt myself
start to pant at her touch. She moved one hand up from my legs
and up to my cunt, sliding a finger inside to stretch me out more
inside. Her finger was soft and determined as she thrust it
inside of me slowly, careful to take things as subtly as possible
so that I didn't move around to much, for fear of doing damage
with the needle. Curling her finger while still inside of me,
Eliza squeezed my clit with two segments of her index finger, the
pressure on it intense and incredibly hot.

  Salma gently pulled away the hood over my clit and tongued it
furiously now, my mind again drifting back to the pleasure she
was giving me, my mind not allowing my eyes to watch Eliza at
work. In the air of the room, Salma's breath hot and wet against
my womanhood, Salma teased it more and more, her lips grasping
onto it as now two fingers probed me inside.

  I had never felt so turned on in my life, the wave of pleasure
and the crushing feeling of throbbing pain making my mind spin in
all sorts of directions as my senses reeled and tried to make
sense of what exactly was going on within my body. Licking me
once again with her skillful mouth, my body tensed up as another,
stronger orgasm made my legs tremble and my back arch off of the
couch as I felt myself awash in the warm waves of cumming. Salma
lifted her mouth from me and licked her lips clean of my juices
as she continued to thrust her fingers inside of me slowly,
finally removing them as the last trickle of my womanly fluids
eased out of my body.

  Try as I might, I still continued to flinch at Eliza's needle,
even though the skin around the area had gone a bit numb. Without
saying a word, Salma reached over into the bag in which the
needle came from and pulled out something that took my mind a
moment to try and comprehend the existence of.

  Long, thick and a dark shade of red, Salma removed a dildo
strap-on from the bag, the leather straps dangling beneath the
obscene size of the rubber phallus. Climbing into a kneeling
position, she deftly lifted up the bottom of her negligee and
secured the sex toy over her own snatch as she clasped the hook
on the back. She finally spoke.

  "Alicia, Kate, get over here. We need to take Katherine's mind
completely off the pain," Salma said, positioning herself over
me. I looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and fear; I had a
vibrator at home, hidden completely out of sight where only the
most intrepid of scavengers might find it, but it was nothing
compared to this. My experiences with another woman had been
almost laughably limited, the only actual intercourse with them
taking place as a part of a required fantasy of one of Willis'
associates. This was different - the red tip of the toy looked
slightly menacing as it dangled in front of me, Salma careful to
position herself atop me so that her own body was out of the way
of Eliza as best as possible. I had never seen something so big
and thick as this strap-on, not even sure if I could take it all
inside of me. But the sense of cascading pain and pleasure washed
over me once more as Eliza stroked my navel down to my snatch,
and I knew that in my aroused state, I surely would try.

  Alicia and Kate now joined this weird little obsession over my
body by standing in the last remaining space where my flesh was
accessible. Alicia was leaned over the couch, elevating herself
on her stomach as her long hair draped across my arm, her face
inches away from my breast as she waited on her Mistress' command
to pleasure me. Kate was positioned the same sort of way,
although she now knelt a foot or so away from Eliza, her hands
stroking my stomach and hair as she smiled anxiously at me, both
women happy to be involved in anything that Salma requested.

  I looked back at Salma now, watching as she took the shaft of
the rubber toy in her hand and lowered it carefully down to my
opening. With the added angle of her leaning over me, Salma had
to balance very trepidly over me to make sure she didn't bump
Eliza or risk falling against her. Teasing the head of the fake
prick against my slit by gliding it up and down, Salma gently
pushed inward against me, her now naked lower half thrusting
forward as she guided the toy into my pussy. I felt the inner
walls of my snatch bend outward for her as the strap-on entered
me, it's true girth seeming to grow by the second.

  Once she had an inch or so of the toys 10 inch length inside of
me, Salma adjusted herself on the couch to make sure she was
angled correctly. That being done, she began to slide more and
more inside of me. At first I felt a slight pinch as my pussy
stretched to the four inch or so girth of the strap-on, but that
quickly subsided as more and more entered me and I began to feel
more full than I had in my entire life.

  I sighed loudly as I felt Salma push more of the toy into me,
half of it's length now filling my snatch. I had never taken much
more than 7 inches or so inside of me, so I waited with bated
breath to see if I could fit the whole thing. The walls of my
channel felt stretched and tight, but the feeling of such a
massive length within my body made my head spin. Salma pulled
back slightly, rubbing my clit along the now wet surface of the
rubber as she moved, the tingling sensation making my nerves
crackle as my now fully aroused and sopping wet cunt gaped lewdly
for the toy. After removing another inch or so, Salma pushed in
harder against me, now burrowing all but the last inch or so into
my body. I actually felt it hit the back wall of my cervix as
Salma pushed and realized a little sadly that I probably wouldn't
be able to take much more.

  That didn't keep her from trying though as Salma once again
continued to push further into me, the rubber cock bending
slightly as she lifted her hands from her grasp of it and instead
used her fingers to pry my slit open wider. Alicia had acted
defiantly without her masters permission and was now occupied
solely on my right breast as she licked and suckled it with her
mouth, her fingers squeezing my erect nipple tightly as she
nibbled on the end, the hard sensation of it only arousing me
further. Seeing Alicia take the lead (what's good for the
goose...), Kate too got in on the action, kissing my breast
before moving her hot little mouth up my chest and neck, her
mouth sucking on the tender flesh of my throat loudly, the
sucking sound only competing with the now distant sound of the
buzzing needle and the wet, sloppy noise of Salma fucking me.

  I was beside myself with pleasure, wave after wave of it
rolling over my body as I tried to focus it into one
controllable, overwhelming flood. It was to no avail I quickly
learned though, as just when I was thinking about the now steady
fucking going on between my legs, Kate and Alicia would apply
their mouths more to my body, distracting me as they devoted
themselves to pleasing their Mistress, of which I was the (more
than willing) victim.

  Salma had managed to get the entire phallus into me, the
leather of the strap on now rubbing against my pubic bone as my
cunt stretched willingly for Salma, welcoming her thrusts and
attention to it. I wasn't the only one getting off on the fucking
that was taking place as these three women ravaged me, for Salma
now looked blissfully pleased as she thrust and bucked her hips
against my own, our bodies touching each other for a fleeting
second each time she entered me on a down stroke. The base of the
strap-on was directly over Salma's cunt and it meant that almost
everything that I felt, she felt as well, her clit getting rubbed
almost raw by the pressure and weight of our bodies meeting each
other.

  Kate and Alicia were quite turned on as well, as though they
continued to stroke and tease my breasts, they had diverted the
attentions of their mouths from me to each other, the two girls
making out passionately in front of me, their faces lost in a sea
of red and blonde hair, errant tongues groping and caressing each
other in their mouths as each girls small busts pressed against
each other. The scene was just too much for me, and I started to
feel a quickly rising heat and orgasm building from within my
pussy as Salma fucked me long and hard.

  Glancing down at Eliza, I saw that she was almost completed in
her work, the circle now containing lines jutting out and the
final touch, a lightning bolt style thing, was near completion
within the perfect loop. Eliza had one hand on the needle,
guiding it into my body and the other was out of my sight, busy
between her legs as she moved up and down on her hand, her
nipples pressing tightly against the fabric of the teddy, the
areolas clearly visible and flushed against the material. I
watched Eliza as she applied the final points, as if in a dream
world - the pain was completely gone now, due completely to the
overwhelming sense of pleasure that ran from my head down to my
toes as these three beautiful women pleasured me in a way that no
man (nor the group of men from last night) ever could.

  Sliding easily within me, Salma would pull the toy out almost
completely before shoving it hard back into my cunt, making me
gasp and breath a little quicker each time she did so. My hips
were now moving off the couch by themselves, thrusting up to meet
her strokes as if they knew exactly when and where they would be
coming from, Salma now completely abandoning the idea of keeping
me still for Eliza.

  My orgasm hit then, the most intense and overwhelming thing
ever to course through my body, as all of our bodies locked in
unison as we moved together - Alicia and Kate continued to kiss
and caress each other, but they were almost standing now, their
dripping wet cunts hovering almost perfectly over each of my
breasts, the rough hair of their sexes sliding over my nipples as
they pressed against one another from over the couch, Alicia bent
in a sort of bowed angle as all but her cute little feet (still
extended over the couch) lay almost on top of me. Salma too had
achieved the same rhythm as I, anticipating the orgasm that now
exploded in my mind, making my vision go blurry and things to
quickly become dark, her last thrust within me arriving at the
exact moment of orgasm, when my clit was the most sensitive
before it was flooded with my juices.

  I felt the world start to fade away from me as I slipped into
darkness, vaguely hearing Eliza say "I'm done!" before my orgasm
reached it's highest crest and I passed out right then and there
on the sofa.




ALEX'S STORY:

  After leaving Antamount, I got in my car and drove to the first
bar I could find; I would be alone there, and things would be
quiet. Sliding in, I ordered my shots and quickly drank them
down, enjoying the dulling numbness of the alcohol as it settled
into my blood stream.

  Sitting there, I didn't let myself think about what had
happened at the office for more than a moment, the day replaying
in my head. I hadn't seen Petty that morning before leaving, as
she was out the door before I even woke up. This had been good -
I was in no mood to try and talk to her or explain myself and why
I didn't trust Antamount to her self-admitted skeptical mind.

  I stayed glued to the barstool for a few hours, downing a shot
every now and then, my head feeling dizzy slightly from a mixture
of exhaustion and the alcohol. I would have stayed in that exact
spot all night had the urge to piss not managed to break through
my swimming thoughts, forcing me to step down onto the floor. I
wasn't surprised in the slightest when I had to catch myself and
regain my balance, the entire world seeming to tilt at an obscene
angle as I stood up straight, my stomach lurching. I couldn't
help but smile to myself at my drunkenness, the kind of
self-knowing grin you get for no reason and at no other time than
when you are apt to make a fool of yourself. I steadied myself
along the bar, holding on until the last minute before I stumbled
forward and smacked into the door of the men's room.

  The place smelled, naturally, of stale piss, but given the
state I was in, it wasn't a big concern of mine. Staggering over
to an open stall, I unzipped my pants and let fly the stream of
yellow as I leaned my head against the dirty metal of the wall,
it's surface thankfully cool against my cheek. When my business
was done (two minutes later at least), I zipped up and again
steadied myself along the countertop by the sink before leaning
into the swinging door and walking out.

  I felt a little bit better and was suddenly possessed with the
urge to drive home and tell Petty what I REALLY thought of her,
but thankfully the bartender saw my staggering (I imagine it
would be hard not to) and managed to catch me and lean me against
the bar counter before I walked out to the parking lot. The
bartender was a small man with gray hair and dirty, old bifocals
but he seemed gentle and reassuring to me in my state as he said
that I was to wait there, give him my keys and he would call a
cab.

  I swayed against the bar, my thoughts of Petty and her
bitchiness running stray-ly through my head for a few minutes
before a cabbie walked through the door and, with the bartenders
help, they managed to shove me into the backseat of the man's
cab.

  I must have fallen asleep on the cheap leather seats, of which
a lot of upholstery was missing or torn, for what felt like only
a few minutes later I was outside my apartment as the cabbie held
open the passenger door for me.

  "You need get out now, yes?" the man said, his voice thick with
an unplace-able accent. I nodded at him and slid myself slowly
out of the seat, my head starting to throb a little bit as I
stood up on the road and stretched my arms over my head. Walking
slowly away from the cab, I glanced back to see the cabbie
watching me as I fumbled at the door of my apartment. Reaching
into my pocket, I realized I didn't have my keys and so began to
bang hard on the door with the base of my fists, demanding that
Petty open it.

  Leaning against it, I almost fell inward on top of her when she
opened the door a few minutes later, her slow hesitation to do so
no doubt caused by the fact that it was dark outside and she
probably couldn't see me leaning against the wooden frame. I
stumbled inside and managed to avoid crashing into the coffee
table just barely before collapsing on the sofa, my eyes closed
to keep the room from spinning around me.

  Even in my inebriated state, I could sense something different
about the apartment. Things were still in the same place, but the
room simply felt different; it didn't feel like home anymore.
Cracking one eyelid, I saw Petty standing there in front of me
with her arms across her chest.

  "This is just what I need Alex, to have to deal with you and
tell you all this stuff while your drunk," she said, her voice
loud and making my ears hurt.

  "Tell me what stuff?" I grumbled, licking my dry lips as I
slowly moved my legs from the floor to the sofa.

  "Tell you I'm breaking up with you, that's what. Now do you
think you can sit up and talk to me or am I going to have to
write you a Dear John letter that you can read when you sober
up?" Petty said.

  "Why are you breaking up with me?" I asked, somehow the
question not feeling as shocking as I think she intended it to
be.

  "Because you are hampering my career, that's why. My agent said
that..."

  "Your agent? When did you get an agent?"

  Petty scowled at me. "You know, the world doesn't revolve
around you and what information you know or don't know. As a
matter of fact, I spent all of today talking to firms that might
be interested in me. I settled on a guy with a lot of experience
in the music business, Rick Dugan. But that's not your concern
now is it, since you haven't supported me before,"

  I sat up finally at this remark, my head and body sending me a
big "fuck you" for doing so in such a quick manner. I rubbed my
eyes.

  "Listen, I was there at every single one of your gigs and,"

  "And what? I appreciate the support early on Alex, and I'll
probably give you a thank you in the liner notes for that. But
when it came down to crunch time, when I had landed a record
deal, what did you have to say? That you thought it wasn't a good
idea? That's not support Alex, that's you holding me back,"

  "Petty, do we really have to do this right now? I mean, my head
hurts and I,"

  "Yes Alex, we do. Because I have things to do and a life to go
onto, one that you will probably never achieve since you are just
some screenwriter who got a lucky break,"

  These last words hurt quite a bit, especially coming from
someone I had spent six months of my life with. I tried in vain
not to show how deeply she cut me though.

  "Yeah, that's right. You're just a writer. What good is a
writer going to do, what kind of money are they going to make? Is
it going to be enough to support two people? Will it even support
just you? Hell, you've already spent a lot of your first check on
that car of yours and yet we are still living in this shitty
little apartment like we are some new arrivals or something. The
real money right now is in music. Female acts are hot and Rick
says that if I get in now, run with this Antamount deal, I'll be
set for life,"

  "I don't think you are thinking this out Petty," I said,
groaning. The argument was making my head throb even worse.
"Antamount is going to screw you, in more ways than one,"

  Petty scoffed. "Oh really? And I guess I'm getting SCREWED
because I'm going in tomorrow to start working on my album, is
that it? Or maybe I'm getting SCREWED because I spent today
getting a sound check on my vocals and the studio said I was a
natural, is that it? Well then Alex, I'd say that I am getting
completely and totally FUCKED, wouldn't you?"

  She was very pissed now. I wanted to say something to calm her
down, something to get her to stop and think about her life - her
life with me and the life of her career that she seemed so
hellbent on launching at whatever cost. Instead, it seemed that I
only enraged her further.

  "I don't trust Wilton Willis. There is some strange stuff going
on behind the scenes at Antamount, sexual favors and some sort of
weird club or something where women are treated like whores for
the men's benefit. I don't want to say conspiracy but,"

  She laughed bitterly. "Oh Alex, how pitiful you are when you
are drunk. First you didn't want me to leave because you wanted
to support me. Now the truth comes out: you're just jealous. In
fact, you are so jealous that you will say anything to make
yourself feel better, including thinking that the world is out to
get you and me. That shit's not healthy Alex, I think you might
need some counseling.

  I sighed. This was going nowhere. I decided to make one last
effort.

  "Petty, look. You can mock me and laugh at me all you want now;
I don't care, I probably won't remember it. But please...if our
time together these past few months, if the LOVE you said you had
for me meant anything at all for you, then please please please
let's talk about this in the morning. I love you Petty and I
don't want to lose you,"

  Her voice softened and I saw a hint of reservation in her eyes.
But she was too stubborn, too independent and too focused to even
cave into something like love.

  "I can't Alex. What's done is done, what's been said has been
said. I'm sorry, but it's over," she said softly. I groaned and
laid my head back down on the couch. Petty walked around behind
me and towards the closet, getting out a blanket.

  She draped it over me as she reached down and undid my shoes.
For a moment, I thought the tenderness and affection had
returned, that everything had gone back to the way it was before.
But it wasn't to be.

  "Sleep out here tonight, I have already packed up most of my
things and the moving van is coming at 6:30. I'll be gone when
you wake up. Good luck Alex, I hope you do okay in this world,
this business," she said, kissing my cheek gently for the last
time.

  I closed my eyes tightly, not wanting to respond to her despite
the change in her mood. I heard her walk away from the couch a
minute later, the soft sound of her feet followed by the shutting
of the bedroom door. Once again I was back sleeping on my own
sofa, though this time probably being the last. Looking back on
it now, I would trade a thousand nights on that sofa for just one
more night in my bed with Petty. But that night, I didn't realize
what I was about to lose.

  Exhaling softly as I pulled the blanket up to my chin, I felt
exhaustion take over. My last thoughts for the day were not of
Petty. They were of that tattoo on Monica's body, the image still
haunting me as I passed out into sleep.




HAPSBORO'S STORY:

  God, I don't know where Wilton finds these women. He seems to
be pretty dead on with the actresses he sends to me to recruit in
his movies, but I seriously think the old man is slipping when it
comes to picking musical talent. I mean, Jesus! Could he have
found someone with even more limited vocal range than this new
girl? I can't even remember her name...Pretty or Pinky or Petty
or something like that.

  I sighed as I blissfully removed the CD from my desk stereo,
thankful that the grating voice of this woman wasn't invading my
ears anymore. I had just gotten the demo tape from Bill over in
the music studio and I simply had to agree that this girl was
going to take a lot of effort to turn her into a star. Normally
Bill is pretty curmudgeon on these sorts of things, fighting
against myself and Wilton to keep from having to mix and produce
more teeny-bopper music for the studio. But he was deadly
accurate with this girl I now realized, the three songs she laid
down more than enough to last me a lifetime.

  Not that there was much I could do, mind you. Wilton had given
me strict instructions to spare no expense in making her a star,
and if that meant heavy studio editing and mixing, or "studio
magic" as the music people called it, then that was what would
have to be done. And she was coming in today, at Wilton's
insistence, to provide backing vocals for Beyonce Knowles solo
project. I hope that her wailing doesn't drag down Beyonce's
rising career, because THAT would be an even worse tragedy for
the studio. Granted, this Petty girl looked decent enough; give
her a sassy haircut, some tight fitting clothes and the MTV crowd
would drool. But musically, this was going to be a serious
endeavour and not one that I really wanted to have my name
involved with.

  "Mr. Hapsboro?" my intercom speaker buzzed.

  "Yes Trudy?" I replied, thankful for the distraction of
thinking about this musical disaster waiting to happen.

  "Ms. Dushku is here to see you sir,"

  "Send her in Trudy," I said. Well, at least the day wasn't
starting out too horribly.

  I heard footsteps in the hall and a knock on the door a moment
later.

  "Come in," I said, putting away the CD player and straightening
my desk. I had always had a certain degree of affection for Eliza
and even though it felt silly, I couldn't help but act like a
little kid with a crush every time she was around.

  She walked in through the door briskly, wearing a simple
t-shirt and jean shorts that came almost all the way up her long,
elegant legs, stopping finally just above her calves. Without any
hesitation or motioning from me, she sat down in the chair across
from my desk.

  "Hey Gord, what's up?" Eliza said, crossing her legs as she
made herself comfortable.

  "Same old bullshit, as usual Eliza. I got a call from Salma
last night. Sounds like you had quite a bit of fun with the Heigl
woman,"

  Eliza grinned. "Yeah, it was quite a scene. Me busily giving
her the mark while Salma and some other girls fucked her brains
out. You should have seen it,"

  "I'm sorry I missed it. I take it that there will be no trouble
with this latest member then?"

  "No, she's a total pushover. I think deep down she may be a
dyke, like a lot of these women. Or at least very bi-curious
without a doubt. We gave her some special government grade pot
before we got started and she was very relaxed, very submissive
throughout the whole thing. The Mistress really gets off on that
sort of thing I think,"

  "You know Eliza, you don't have to call her the Mistress when
she isn't around,"

  Eliza grinned. "Sorry, I guess it's just a habit. Speaking of
habits, do you have any more candy for me?"

  I reached into my desk drawer and pulled out a heavy brown bag.
Inside was enough drugs and paraphernalia to last a junkie for
weeks. However, being that I was now the main dealer for
countless junkies, I knew without a doubt that Eliza would be
back in here by week's end, asking for more.

  Holding the back away from the desk, I "accidentally" dropped
it onto my lap.

  "Darn! Would you look at that Eliza? I seemed to have lost my
grip on it and it has landed directly in my lap. Would you mind
coming and getting it from me?" I said with a grin.

  Eliza smiled wickedly at me. "You know, you aren't the most
subtle man in Hollywood Gordon. You know that right?"

  "I do. Not that it bothers me in the slightest at least," I
replied.

  Standing up, Eliza walked over to my chair where I sat and I
rolled away a bit from the desk. Within moments, she was down on
her knees, stroking my already hardening cock with her hand as my
pants fell onto the floor. Lowering her mouth, Eliza sucked on my
prick fiendishly, a skilled veteran. When Wilton had first found
her, she couldn't give a blowjob to save her life. Now though,
she was sucking dick better than any whore you could likely find
on the street.

  I leaned back in the chair and ran my hand over Eliza's head,
guiding her up and down as she bobbed on my cock, removing the
six inches out as she licked it from base to tip, her hand busily
fondling my balls. She sucked hard on my prick, her cheeks
tightening around the length as she deep throated me, the
mushroom shaped tip battering against the back of her throat. I
always enjoyed getting these blowjobs from Eliza, and despite her
allegiance to all that Rose Petals nonsense, I think she enjoyed
giving head too. Wilton had certainly awakened the inner slut in
her, without a doubt.

  Letting my shaft slide out from her throat, Eliza licked at the
slit in the top of my prick with her tongue, working it inside as
she clasped her lips around the head, sucking on it tightly. The
feeling was electric, and I reached down and pulled her head down
onto the length of my shaft quickly, forcing it all once again
down her throat as my load arrived.

  I grunted as I shot stream after stream of cum into Eliza's
mouth, which she quickly swallowed like a diligent whore, not
letting any drops get out from her lips. As I felt my orgasm
subside, I pushed Eliza away from me, causing her to topple back
on the floor. I half expected her to be pissed off about this
sudden movement but she simply regained her balance, took the
back off the floor and stood up, wiping her mouth with her lips.

  "Thanks Gord, I'll give you a call if I need any more," Eliza
said, walking towards the door.

  "No, thank YOU," I said quietly to myself, out of her ear shot
as she shut the door behind her. As the door closed behind Eliza,
not a moment later did it open again to reveal Petty standing in
the doorway, looking nervous. I saw Eliza pass by her, winking at
Petty as she disappeared down the hall.

  "Mr. Hapsboro? Can I come in?" the girl said, her voice weak.

  "Yes my dear, please have a seat," I replied as she cautiously
walked over to the chair, timid as a mouse. She was dressed
fairly conservatively with a knee length dress and a white cotton
blouse on, her blonde hair pulled back behind her head in a pony
tail. She didn't wear much makeup, but the natural lines of her
face still made her appear quite attractive.

  "Ok Petty, I've listened to your tape and I love it. You're
going to be a huge star, I can already tell," I said to her in my
fake excited voice. She smiled widely, a naive and happy smile at
someone like me lavishing such praise onto her.

  "Thank you Mr. Hapsboro. Is it really that good?"

  "Oh, it's the best. Now, before we start working on an album of
your own, we wanted to get you involved with another artist to do
some background work. Think of it as the same way Dido was used
in Eminem's song to launch her own career, hmm?"

  "Actually, she had already recorded her album and Eminem just
sampled it," Petty said. I was a little irritated by this remark
- I hated being corrected.

  "Yes, well, regardless she is now famous. You don't have any
problems with doing something like that do you?"

  "No, none at all," she replied excitedly. God this girl was
just ripe for the plucking.

  "Good. Then follow me," I said, standing from my chair and
heading towards the door of the office, holding it open for her
like a proper gentleman as she passed, though I couldn't help but
stare at her ass as she walked.




PETTY'S STORY:

  I felt Hapsboro's hand on my back as he guided me towards an
elevator down the hall from his office. As the metal doors closed
around us, Hapsboro spoke again.

  "What we are going to do, is have you provide the backing
vocals for a new song that Beyonce Knowles is recording. You play
the guitar acoustically for her and sing during the chorus. It's
mostly Beyonce's show, but you'll get full credit and a
'featuring' credit on the album. That sound ok to you?" Hapsboro
said.

  I only nodded at him, for my mouth was too dry to properly
answer. This was it! I was really in the big time now! I could
feel my heart beating rapidly in my chest now, the thundering
beat of it making the blood rush in my ears. I knew that this
whole thing was big, but...wow.

  "Are you ok?" I heard Hapsboro say.

  "Hmm..what?" I said, my voice finally returning.

  Hapsboro smiled. "Never mind. You just looked a little woozy
there for a second,"

  "It's just all so exciting for me, I hope you don't mind me
saying so,"

  "Not at all. I remember when I was first starting out, right
after Mr. Willis took me under his wing. I mean, I had worked in
businesses before but never entertainment. This is a dream
factory, and it can all be very overwhelming when you first get
into it,"

  I nodded again as the elevator stopped, Hapsboro holding the
door open for me as I stepped out. We were now in some sort of
underground parking garage, the lot lit only by the overhanging
fluorescent lights. We walked along the paved ground from one
building to the other, the satisfying ding of the new elevator
opening up the exact same layout as the one we had just been in.

  We rode up a few floors before stepping out into another
office. This one was just as busy as Hapsboro's had been, and the
layout seemed to be the exact same if not for the sign on the
wall that read ANTAMOUNT RECORDS instead of ANTAMOUNT STUDIOS.

  "This way my dear," Hapsboro said, leading me into a room at
the end of a hall. Shutting the door behind him, the noise from
outside vanished completely and, looking around, I realized that
we were in a soundproof room. There was a pair of technicians
sitting behind a glass paned wall, headsets on over their ears as
we entered. Hapsboro din't even bother knocking, just opened the
door and led us in. He must have had more important things to
deal with or something.

  One of the technicians took off his headphones to look at us
while the other was busy listening to the sound coming through
his own. Glancing across the massive sound board in front of
them, I saw Beyonce sitting on a chair, singing into a microphone
passionately. My heart skipped a beat at being so close to this
star, and knowing full well that I would be working with her in
just a matter of minutes.

  "Petty, this is Bill Blake. He will help you out the rest of
the afternoon, ok? Right now I really have to be going. I'm sure
we will talk later on Petty," Hapsboro said, hustling out the
door. I stood there awkwardly for a moment as I saw the
technician checking me out. He sighed heavily and then walked
over to a closet on the far side of the room. Opening the metal
doors, he pulled out a pair of headphones for me and a very
expensive, very high quality Gibson acoustic guitar. Handing both
of these to me, he took his seat again.

  "When Beyonce finishes this song, you are going to go in there
and play the background music solo first. Following that, we will
get the two of you singing together. Does that sound ok? Have you
ever done any recording before?" Blake asked.

  "Yes, I mean no, I mean...yes, that sounds fine but no I
haven't recorded before," I said, my words stammering quickly out
of me. I was too nervous, I thought to myself. Just take a deep
breath and calm down.

  "Here's the sheet music, Beyonce is almost done. Don't worry if
you don't get every note exactly when we are recording, there is
going to be a heavy beat behind all the music anyways. Mr. Willis
just wanted to put you in on guitar for this song and get you
doing a duet with Beyonce," Blake said.

  A moment later, I saw Beyonce as she removed the head phones
and walked out of the sound room to where we were. I grew
excited, wanting to shake her hand, but she completely ignored me
as she headed straight for Bill.

  "That was a great track guys, I was really feeling the flow of
the song, you know? What's next?" Beyonce said. She was dressed
casually in a pair of hip hugger jeans and an oversized baseball
style jersey. Her long hair was pulled back in a crimp behind her
head, a far cry from the afro I had seen her sporting during the
premiere of "Austin Powers 3" a few weeks ago.

  "Mr. Willis wants us to bring in some new talent with you on
this album, the young lady standing right here. Goes by the name
of Petty," Bill said, motioning towards me. He was occupied
working the dials of the mixing board.

  Beyonce finally looked at me, stepping forward to shake my
hand.

  "Hey girl. So you going to tear it up all Hendrix style and
shit on me?" she said. I felt suddenly confused.

  "What?"

  "I said are you going to get all crazy with the guitar for one
of my tracks," Beyonce said, pointing towards the guitar I
clutched in my hand.

  I blushed. "Oh! Yes, they want me to do the backing acoustic
and...a duet with you I think, if that's ok,"

  "Sure, whatever. Anyone who is handpicked by Mr. Willis is ok
by me," Beyonce said.

  "Ok Petty, we are ready for you to get started," Bill said,
looking up at me.

  "Guess you better get going girl," Beyonce said. She extended
her hand and I shook it gently in my own. "Good luck, I'll come
back in a few for that vocal,"

  I stood there watching as Beyonce walked out of the room, her
thin and beautiful body swishing and swaying with each step. I
felt overwhelmed by the whole thing...did I REALLY just shake her
hand?

  "Petty? Petty?" I heard Bill say.

  "What?" I replied, shaking myself out of my daydream.

  "I said get in there. Time is money, you know?" Bill said.

  "Oh, right," I replied, opening the door of the sound room and
walking into the sound proofed room. The lines were covered with
thick padding from floor to ceiling to grab the acoustics of the
room completely and save for a hanging down microphone and a
chair with a music stand by it, the room was completely empty.
Taking a seat in the chair, I looked back towards the glass at
Bill and the other technician whose name I still didn't know. It
was weird seeing them that way, as it felt like I was in some
sort of space ship, the lights from above brightly lighting
everything in the room around me, the reflection of which blurred
my ability to see completely in the studio room.

  I put on the head phones I had been given and placed the sheet
music on the stand. Settling myself down with the guitar over my
knee, I tuned it routinely as I scanned over the music. It was
pretty simple stuff, mostly baseline rhythm and a very simple
chorus line that repeated three times through out the song. Not
exactly Julliard musical school difficulty, but then again given
the R&B genre in general, a simple beat was all it often took to
make a hit song.

  Strumming a few bars, I began to work my way through song line
by line, slowly at first then going faster and more in time to
the rhythm as I kept time in my head. I had learned to really
appreciate my Mid-Western parents for getting me those music
lessons when I was a little girl, for it had helped me bring out
a seemingly natural talent for perfect pitch and the ability to
read music almost on the fly, hearing it note for note in my
head.

  Reaching the end of the piece, I started over again just like I
always did when I was learning a new song. I worked my way
through this time without any hesitation at all, only blowing one
note by accident when my finger slipped off a string. I was so in
tune to the music in fact, that it was only when I saw the door
from the sound booth open that I finally stopped.

  "What are you doing?" Bill asked, a look of amazement on his
face.

  "I'm just learning the song. Did I do something wrong?" I
asked.

  "No...it's just...I've never seen anyone pick up a piece of
music that quickly," he said, a little dumbfounded.

  I blushed again. "It's just something I've learned how to do I
guess,"

  Bill nodded, his mouth still slightly agape.

  "Ok, well listen on your headphones for my cue and then start
from the beginning. I thought this would take hours to get done
but you seem to have learned it in 20 minutes. I want to get this
track laid down now, while you still have that spark," he said
excitedly. I couldn't help but smile and laugh a little at him as
he shut the door and raced back to his seat at the sound board.

  "Go ahead," I heard him crackle at me through the headphones.
Taking a deep breath, I started from the beginning of the song.

  It was only 30 minutes later that we completed the recording of
the music track, mixing and everything. My acoustic guitar sound
had been distorted slightly and there was some heavy bass echoing
behind it, but there was no mistaking in my mind the sound of it
as being my own. Bill congratulated me on getting it done so
well, then sent the other technician to go get Beyonce for the
vocals.

  He returned a few minutes later with Beyonce in tow, drinking
from a bottle of water. She too looked surprised.

  "Damn girl, I barely had time to sit down and relax before you
finished up. Are you one of those musical prodigies or
something?" she asked.

  "Not that I know of. I just play it as I read it, that's all,"
I said shyly. Beyonce walked over to me, patting me on the back.

  "Well damn, that's great. Now let's go in there and tear up the
words just as fast, ok Petty?" she said, smiling as we walked
back into the recording room. I felt giddy with excitement
knowing that she had called me by my name.

  The next few hours went pretty well, not as good as the music
track but better than I think anyone expected. My voice was no
match for Beyonce's (a fact that Bill told me flat out about),
but she seemed supportive of my efforts to try anyways. The track
started out slow, with me singing the intro, followed by an
upscale disco style beat that was where Beyonce's smooth vocals
came in and took over. I provided some backing chorus which would
be distorted slightly as a sort of sampling sound, but all and
all the recording was like a dream come true. I had always
envisioned when I was younger the day when I might get to record
something with a big star. At the time of course it had been
someone like Micheal Jackson or New Kids on the Block or one of
those laughable acts now that definitely dotted my time growing
up, but now being here with the star of the musical moment
Beyonce, there was hardly anything else I could have asked for.

  As we finished up, my voice exhausted from singing the same
line over and over again, I said my goodbyes and left the studio
on Cloud 9, anxious to come back the next day to start work on my
own album. I was surprised to hear footfalls behind me as I
walked towards the elevator however; turning my head to look, I
saw Beyonce hustling to catch up to me.

  "Hey girl, great job today. I just wanted to say that," she
said sweetly.

  "Thanks Beyonce, that really means a lot to me," I said. It was
the truth.

  "Listen, you ever seen a penthouse suite before?" Beyonce said,
leaning against the frame of the elevator, holding it open with
her hand.

  "No, why?"

  "Well I just so happen to be staying in the one at the Hilton
downtown, if you'd perhaps like to accompany me there for a
celebratory drink," she said, her other hand resting on the hip
of her jeans.

  I immediately thought of this as something that Alex would want
to come to, but then I quickly remembered the bitter argument
from the night before. Jesus, why had Alex drifted into my
thoughts? It wasn't enough that I was happy doing my own thing
now, why was my mind making me think about him and how he held me
back?

  "Yes, I'd love to," I said, Beyonce stepping into the elevator
with me. We rode down to the first floor and as the doors opened,
Beyonce took my hand.

  "Come on girl, let's go have some fun!"

  
  The penthouse suite was just as imagined it would be: lavish,
exquisitely decorated and virtually anything you could ever want
there in the room for you: three big screen tv's with DVD
players, a piano, a gorgeous view out into a wooded valley below
on the outskirts of the city, a massive marble bathroom and two
separate bedrooms, each with huge king sized beds.

  I walked around the room in amazement as Beyonce went to pour
us some drinks out of the fully furnished kitchen and bar.
Returning a moment later with two champagne glasses, she handed
one to me.

  "Here's to your new career. May it last forever," she said,
smiling at me as we clinked glasses. I downed the champagne,
enjoying the expensive taste of it. Anything that Beyonce wanted
it seemed, she could get. We walked over to the Italian leather
sofa and sat down, leaning against the back as we sipped our
champagne.

  We sat there talking and laughing about anything and everything
for hours; old boyfriends, scumbags in the industry and even what
it was like growing up for us.

  "All I'm saying is that black girls have it much harder growing
up than white girls," Beyonce said, finishing off her champagne.
She quickly refilled hers and topped off mine, which was now my
fourth glass. I could feel the pleasant heat of the alcohol
making me a little drunk, but I still felt in complete control of
myself.

  "I don't know," I said in disagreement. "I mean, little white
girls are always the target it seems of all these kidnappings and
what not. You don't hear about black or Hispanic girls getting
kidnapped now do you?"

  Beyonce sipped her champagne. "That's true. And that's what is
so fucked up about the media. Black girl gets taken, it's page 10
news. White girl, why shit...all the news networks are all over
it,"

  I nodded in agreement, the exhaustion of the day finally
catching up to me as I yawned a little sleepily.

  "You're not falling asleep on me are you?" Beyonce said,
looking at me curiously.

  "No, I'm just relaxed is all," I said, leaning back against the
sofa with my head, my arm extended out as it held the glass.

  "If you want to get relaxed, you have GOT to try that Jacuzzi
bath in their," Beyonce said. "That thing will soothe any and
every ill ever inflicted on you after just a few minutes,"

  "Really? Oh, but I shouldn't I mean this is your suite and
all,"

  "Damn straight it is! And since it's mine for another week or
so, I get to say who gets to use the spa bath. And right now, I'm
saying it's you," she said, doing a little head bob action in
mock anger.

  I laughed and Beyonce smiled at me. "We can take one together
if you want," she said, the question not as innocent sounding as
when it first passed her lips.

  She must have seen my reluctance, for she was quick to make
concessions.

  "I mean, if you want to. If not, it's cool, you can go take one
by yourself and use one of the robes hanging in the closet. I was
just thinking since I want to relax as well, and since it's not
like there is nothing that either one of us have that the other
hasn't seen before..." she said, trailing off.

  "I don't mind. Just come here and show me how to work the spa
part," I said, standing up from the couch.

  "Girl, you are one crazy bitch, you know that?" Beyonce said,
following me into the bathroom.

  When the water was all set a few minutes later, Beyonce seemed
to waist no time getting out of her clothes. Unbuckling the thick
belt that held her tight jeans up, Beyonce shimmied her legs out
of them and let them fall to the floor of the marble bathroom,
leaving her in just the baseball t-shirt and a pair of hot pink
panties.

  I followed her lead and took off my dress as well, moving as
she moved as I took off my blouse while she lifted off the
t-shirt. Finally we were both down to our last garments and as
Beyonce pushed her panties down, revealing a neatly trimmed pussy
beneath her hard, washboard abs, she took off her bra and flung
it away before stepping into the bubbling tub.

  I removed my panties and felt a little modest as I stepped into
the tub on the opposite side of Beyonce, her eyes watching me as
I moved. I flinched a little bit at the temperature of the water
as I put my leg in but as I quickly adjusted to it, it felt great
against me, allowing me to feel more comfortable as I slid down
further into the water.

  Soon both Beyonce and I were up to our breasts in the water as
we lay back against the side of the tub, relaxing, our legs
laying side by side of one another. Beyonce had wrapped her hair
in a towel to keep it from getting wet, giving her an interesting
appearance as she sat there in the water. Her chocolate brown
skin was glistening with moisture, her dark brown nipples bobbing
just above the surface of the water, and little bits of steam
rose from around her body as the moisture touched her neck and
face, a look of complete relaxation on it. The contrast between
her dark body and the white towel was striking, but I couldn't
help but notice that she looked like some beautiful African queen
sitting there, enjoying a hot bath. Beyonce's almond eyes were
beautiful and gazing at her body through the bubbling water
brought out within me for the first time consciously (my
encounter with Eliza Dushku didn't count) that I was physically
attracted to Beyonce.

  She had been right about the temperature and the soothing
effects of the water though. With the addition of the champagne,
every muscle in my body felt completely relaxed as I didn't even
have the energy to recline against the tub, instead letting the
water float me.

  We laid like that for a few minutes, both of us savoring the
feel of the water, before Beyonce finally leaned forward with a
minimal splash. I opened my eyes to look at her as she scooted
forward in the tub.

  "Here Petty, wash my back for me will you? Try not to get the
towel too wet," she said, producing a sponge from under the water
as she handed it to me. I nodded and moved towards her, having to
open my legs wide around her own just to be able to sit down
behind her. I felt a little uncomfortable with the fact that as I
moved closer to her and our legs touched one another's, my pussy
open slightly with excitement as I leaned into her back just to
wash her, but I was thankful that our lower bodies were under
water and the wetness I could feel wouldn't be felt by Beyonce.

  Pouring water in rivulets down her nback, I gently massaged her
skin. Beyonce sighed and relaxed at my touch, her body mine to
use and touch however I wanted to with the sponge, it's soft but
rough surface soaking suds into her skin. I felt encouraged by
Beyonce's relaxation at my touch and I gently leaned into her
more, pushing her body down more at the waist as I moved my hand
down her lower back and towards her ass underwater.

  As my hand paused there for a moment over her ass, the churning
water signifying the final step from perhaps just-friends to
lovers. I held my breath slightly as I gently lowered my hand
down into the water with the sponge, slowly but hopefully not too
deliberately rubbing it against the cleft in her ass and down to
her cheeks, feeling the "bootylicious" flesh beneath me as I
scrubbed the sponge across it.

  Beyonce startled me by suddenly climbing up onto her knees in
the tub, thrusting her ass out almost directly in my face as she
leaned against the side for balance.

  "You won't get it clean when it's underwater girl," she said. I
said nothing in reply and slowly returned my hand to her ass,
this time able to get a better feel and touch it more (however
"accidentally" it might have seemed) as I worked more soap into
tight, firm ass. In the position she was in however, it wasn't
just her ass that was in my face.

  Her legs were pulled tightly to, but I could see her mound
between her two thighs, the opening to her pussy staring me
almost directly in the face. Like the rest of her, it was an
incredibly beautiful thing: the outer labia and lips were a
slightly lighter brown than the rest of her body, but just
beneath them, peeking out just barely, I could see the pink flesh
of her inner walls looking at me, seemingly being begged to be
touched.

  I stopped myself, shaking my head as I dipped the sponge back
into the water. What was I thinking? I wasn't a lesbian! I didn't
want to be branded as one this early on in my career either, even
if it wasn't true. That sort of thing could haunt me forever.

  Still though...looking at her snatch again, I couldn't help but
feel my nipples harden in excitement at the "What if?"
possibilities. What if I was just to accidentally brush my hand
over her cunt? What if a finger was to accidentally slip inside
of her? What if...

  Again shaking the thoughts away, I gave her ass one final scrub
and then squeezed the sponge out of water directly over her ass
to wash away the suds. Though it was not intentional in the
slightest, the water from the sponge hit on her skin just right
that it's warm descent went from the crack in her ass all the way
down the length of her pussy, where a few final stray bubbles
came to land. Beyonce moaned as the water traced over her snatch,
wiggling her ass just slightly as the last drips subsided.

  "Ooh, that felt good girl! Do that again?" she said, her head
still turned away.

  "Do what again?" I asked.

  "That little trick you just did with the water. You know what
I'm talking about," Beyonce said, turning around to look at me
and watch my actions. I had no choice now; I had to repeat
exactly what I did.

  Dipping my hand into the water, I made sure the sponge soaked
up some suds and then I rang it out gently over Beyonce's ass
once again, the water cascading down the smoothness of her body
like a gentle water fall.

  "YEAAHH! That's it!" she said, shaking her ass again. "One more
time,"

  I repeated the process and found myself getting incredible
turned on by this entire thing. As I poured the water over her, I
noticed that Beyonce's legs had widened a few inches and that
more water was rushing over her widening snatch than before. The
pink from her cunt was opening more and more like a delicate
flower now, a picture of perfection.

  Setting the sponge down again to continue the process, Beyonce
reached down and took it from my hand.

  "No, now it's your turn," she said. I turned around in the tub
with my back to Beyonce, hoping my quickly beating chest wouldn't
be too obvious as I felt her settle down behind me in the same
position that I had been in with her. Her legs were longer than
mine so when she finally was comfortable, I glanced down through
the water and saw the smoothness of her long black legs
contrasted against my own white skin. My attention was quickly
diverted however as she squeezed the sponge of water over the top
of my head, making me lower it as water coursed through my hair
and down my neck, finally dripping off at my shoulders.

  Beyonce leaned in closer to me, her breasts pressing against my
back as she started to soak me from head to toe, one sponge full
of water at a time. Rubbing the sponge up and down my neck, my
long blonde hair now completely wet, she scrubbed gently against
my shoulders with the sponge, dipping her hand smoothly down to
the cleavage just above my breasts. She was sweeping her hand
over me with the sponge, washing my body slowly and deliberately
as she touched my shoulders, my arms, my hands, with the skin
smoothening softness of the soap.

  My breath caught in my throat as I felt her place her hand over
my breast. Beyonce leaned hard into me now, pushing her pussy
against my ass, leaving no doubt in my mind about what she wanted
to do to me. She held her hand against my breast for just an
agonizing second before continuing her circular motion downward
and over to the other. I shuddered as she stroked my stomach with
her hand, no sound in the room except for my excited breathing
and the occasional sloshing of water.

  Abandoning the sponge now, Beyonce slid her hand and her long
fingernails down my tummy towards my pussy beneath the water, her
fingertips smooth on my stomach as they made their way down. I
almost came right then and there as I felt her finger touch my
slit, sliding over the opening as her hand moved downward on my
body, coming to rest on the floor of the tub as she cupped my
cunt in her hand.

  Beyonce pressed her hand against my pussy as she wrapped her
other arm around my shoulders and pulled me back against her
body. The pressure was amazingly stimulating as she simply
squeezed and flexed her fingers over my cunt, the excitement of
my inner lips just begging for penetration of some kind. I glided
back against her, feeling her arm press up under my breasts, the
nipples rubbing against her arm as she held me. Turning my head
up to look at her, she smiled down at me for a moment before
lowering her mouth to mine and kissing me passionately.

  I opened my lips for her own and our tongues wrestled with each
other there in the tub, Beyonce teasing my snatch with her hand,
causing my lower body to buck upwards towards her each time she
squeezed, my nipples now hard as they grazed her arm. Beyonce's
mouth was still sweet with the taste of champagne and her tongue
was soft as it caressed my own. I had moved my hand to the side
of her face where I was caressing it and her hair with my
fingers, our bodies writhing in the water and probably spilling
more water out than we were keeping in.

  I felt one of Beyonce's fingers extend inward toward me,
slipping easily into my well adjusted and eagerly waiting pussy,
the thickness of her digit not as nearly pleasure bringing as the
length of it. Her fingers were long by most women's standards,
but when they were being put to good use inside of you, you
tended to overlook the negative aspects of something like that.
She penetrated me down to the last knuckle, wiggling her finger
inside of me back and forth, making my legs thrash slightly in
the water as she stroked my inner wall.

  Finally breaking the kiss, I simply stared into Beyonce's eyes
as she continued to move her hand slowly around inside of me.

  "Come on, let's go to the bedroom," she said, releasing her
finger from within me as she helped me climb out of the tub along
with her. Taking a pair of towels from a nearby rack, we
proceeded to dry each other off with them (though neither of us
got very dry, for we couldn't keep our hands off of each other)
and then Beyonce took me by the hand for the second time that day
and led me down the hall to one of the massive bedrooms.

  Flipping on a light switch, there was a chandelier hanging over
the bed, it's white comforter and blankets still neatly arranged
on the bed. This didn't seem to bother Beyonce one bit however as
she jumped onto the bed and pulled me with her, both of us
bouncing a bit as we collided into each other. Somehow, Beyonce
landed on top of me, the white towel from her hair now gone as
she looked down into my eyes.

  She smiled again, that same dazzling smile that I knew was part
of why she was famous. Turning her mouth slightly, Beyonce kissed
me again, placing her hands aside my head to lift my face up to
meet hers. I moved my own arms down her back as I grabbed and
squeezed her ass during the most heated moments of our making
out. I could feel Beyonce grinding her dancers body into my own,
feeling her pussy rub up and down against my wet and fully
aroused cunt.

  Our breasts were crushed together as she lay atop me, planting
kisses on my neck and face, I doing the same for her. Sliding my
hand down further along her ass, I traced the tip of my index
down her ass to Beyonce's pussy. She spread her legs wider for
me, allowing two of my fingers to dip inside of her hole. I
pushed my finger into her and at the same time lifted myself
upward on the bed, turning the tables on Beyonce as she laid down
on the bed now, my body holding her down.

  Removing my hand, I brought it to my face as I saw a slight
wetness of her juices on my finger tips. A sudden rush of
excitement hit me then and before I even knew what I was doing, I
was licking her sweet fluids from my hand. The taste was
wonderful, something I had forgotten about since my last
encounter with Eliza just a few weeks earlier. I kissed down
Beyonce's hard stomach before making my way towards her neatly
trimmed pussy.

  Placing my hand on her lips, I used two fingers to hold her
labia open before placing my mouth against it and burrowing my
tongue inward. Beyonce bucked on the bed, moaning loudly as I
licked into her cunt, lapping up her now readily flowing juices.
I pressed my lips as hard as I could against her snatch, sticking
my tongue so far in that it hurt to move it any more, and then
proceeded to lick her clit and pussy for all I could. I certainly
didn't have much experience in doing this, but that didn't seem
to bother Beyonce. She took my hair in her hand and squeezed it
tightly around her fist, holding onto it as she pulled and mashed
my face deeper into her cunt.

  I was so busy eating out her sweet chocolate snatch that I had
failed to notice that I was having a hard time breathing,
Beyonce's legs tightly closed around my face as she moved up and
down on the bed. I stopped licking her for a moment, long enough
for her to stop thrashing around and then climbed up from my
kneeling position on the floor to one more appropriate for the
situation: a 69 position.

  Dropping my head back onto her cunt once more, it was far
easier to lick at her (especially the dark brown nub of her clit)
as I began to slide my tongue sloppily over her snatch like a dog
would. Beyonce had propped her head up on a pillow from the bed
and was now licking at my own slit, probing it with her tongue
and fingers.

  We continued this passionate love making for hours. Neither one
of us were, of course, lesbians, but for tonight we just didn't
care what we were. This was about passion, about attraction and
about embracing beauty. Our lovemaking was hot and heated, but
always tender and gentle. I suspect that Beyonce had done this
sort of thing before, but the skillfulness of her mouth and her
body, knowing how to get one to respond to every touch and
caress, was something that was naturally born, not taught.

  In the early hours of the morning, after countless orgasms, we
both finally collapsed into a heap on the bed, sweat and cum
covering our bodies. My breasts ached slightly from Beyonce
licking on them, but I could also see the hickey I had left on
her throat, so I knew that Beyonce wouldn't be without some
lovemaking wounds.

  I felt sleepy as I lay there stroking my pussy, Beyonce curled
up next to me, her soft breathing tickling my nipple every time
it escaped her lips. This was the life, I had decided. Alex may
have been genuine in his love for me, but now that I had tasted
the big time and what it had to offer, the only love I could ever
cherish would be my career, my music, my fame.

  I leaned down and kissed Beyonce's cheek and then turned off
the light switch just above the bed, the tinkling of the
chandelier glass wooing me into a comfortable, blissful sleep.




KATHERINE'S STORY:

  I sat up with a start, my chest heaving as I ran my hand across
my sweaty forehead. I had had a horrible dream, one that had
caused me to be scared awake although now that I was trying to
remember it, the details had already started to fade.

  Looking around the room as my eyes adjusted to the late night
light of the street lights outside, I realized I was not in a
place I recognized. Panic leapt into my throat for a moment
before my mind finally kicked back into gear and I realized that
I was still at the mansion on Yardly drive, where I had gone to
go through initiation.

  My mind still felt foggy, but details were starting to come
back. Salma Hayek. Rose Petals Club...it all hit me as a flood,
the effects of the pot now completely worn off as I started to
wrestle with the cold, hard reality that I was now facing.
Glancing down, I noticed I was naked and I saw off on a chair in
the corner my clothes neatly stacked and folded.

  Turning towards the edge of the bed, I grimaced in pain as my
side stung like it was on fire. Throwing back the sheets, I saw
the still swollen and slightly scabby looking area where the
tattoo had been applied. The tattoo itself brought back even more
thoughts, of a disorienting sense of pain and pleasure. All I
could remember was feeling something incredibly intense, with
Salma Hayek taking the lead and two other girls...Kate Hudson and
Alicia...what was her last name?...Witt! Yes, that was it! also
following her lead.

  But that had been in the afternoon when all that happened. I
remembered showing up at this house then. How long had I been
asleep?

  Carefully stepping off of the bed, favoring my right side so as
not to put too much tension or pressure on the sore area of the
tattoo, I gathered my clothes and very slowly climbed into them,
leaving off my panties because they rubbed directly against where
the tattoo was.

  Slipping on my shoes, I half walked and half hobbled to the
door. Opening the door slowly, wincing at the sound of it's
creaking, I stepped out into a massive hallway that parted in the
middle to a large set of stairs leading down. Yes, that's right,
the staircase. Where Salma had come down from. I was pleased with
myself for having remembered all of these little details.
Cautiously, I began to descend the steps, careful to stay on the
carpeted areas.

  The house was deathly quiet, and would have been damn near
impossible to see around had someone not left a slowly dying fire
in the fire place. The hearth crackled a little bit as a wood log
succumbed to the battering heat, but otherwise the room was
completely quiet.

  Passing the sofa, I saw Alicia and Kate sleeping on top of each
other naked, their bodies curled against one another like animals
as they slumbered. There were empty beer bottles and more cocaine
on the coffee table, and from the stillness of their breathing I
knew that they had partaken in both.

  Heading towards the front door, I gently pulled it open. The
cool air of the night outside rushed in around me as I stepped
outside and closed the heavy door behind me, pleased with myself
for having gotten away from the house without detection.
Carefully I hobbled towards my car parked down at the bottom of
the hill in which the mansion rested and, getting into it, I
drove off towards the freeway.

  I entered the freeway at 3:42 AM, finding an all night diner
just outside of the city a few exits down. Pulling my car in, the
place was deserted except for a waitress flirting with a trucker
down at the end of the counter. They both stared at me as I
walked in, but I gave them no mind as I walked past and headed
towars the ladies room.

  Having relieved myself, I straightened my appearance up in the
mirror and then walked out. Right by the restrooms was a pair of
telephones and a phone book dangling between them. Turning my
back on the waitress and trucker (who had once again decided to
watch me), I found what I was looking for in the phone book and,
while making a distracting noise by coughing, tore it out of the
phone book.

  I tucked the page into my shirt and walked out non-chalantly
from the diner, getting on the freeway again and heading out
towards my destination. I didn't really know who to turn to about
this, but given all that I had been through and what I now knew,
he seemed the most likely candidate to at least give me a place
to sleep for the night, not wanting to go home for fear that it
might be watched.

  Pulling to a stop outside on the street, I stepped out of the
car and walked up the stairs to his apartment. The entire city
seemed completely quiet and empty from here, the distant sounds
of traffic not even registering in my ears.

  Taking up the knocker like I had earlier in the day (assuming
it still WAS today), I thought better of it and instead just hit
my fist against the door a few times. No response. I knocked
again. Still no response.

  On the third round of knocking, I finally heard someone
trudging towards the door. Two deadbolts unclicked, followed by a
chain lock.

  "I'm coming, I'm coming..." a voice said on the other side of
the door. The door opened slowly as I took a deep breath,
clearing my throat.

  "I need your help. I'm in the organization deep now and I need
to find out what that means. Please let me come in," I said,
hoping that the hopefulness in my voice wasn't too apparent.

  "Of course Katherine, please, come in,"


  CHAPTER 4 - COMING SOON


_____________________________________________________

Thanks for reading! Send me feedback at:

carnagejackson@hotmail.com

Miss a chapter? Read all my stories at my site:

http://www.carnagejackson.com

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