Author: Bulgroz the Third
Title: The Adjusters #3 - The Spirited Flesh
Keywords: MF, mc
Posted: March 5, 2010
Edited: March 24, 2011




			   The Adjusters #3


			  The Spirited Flesh


"Come on Radhu, why don't you ask her out, already? Especially now,
she's been dumped, she's alone, tired, depressed, in need of a man's
support and affection --"

"Depressed? Needing a man's support? Are we perchance referring to the
same person? Serena, cheerful independent dominant Serena?" Radhu was,
as was his habit, deadpan.

Daniel shrugged. "Okay, so I'm exaggerating somewhat. My point
remains. You should ask her out."

"You have made no point Daniel, you merely insist on repeating the
same question. I have told you several times already: I have a plan."

Daniel and Radhu were walking towards High Street, in the chilly
autumn night, several steps behind Serena who was walking at a brisk
pace while talking in animated gestures on her cell phone.

"Right, your plan. Let's talk about your plan. What sort of plan is
it, Machiavelli? Do you intend to wow her with your stoicism?"

Radhu did no dignify the barb with an answer. Daniel laughed and
patted his friend on the back, intent on showing that he was not
serious.

"Okay," he said, "okay, you're off the hook for now. But I hate to see
you sad, and while I don't know for sure you two are actually good for
each other, I'm worried that if you don't give it a try you'll just
stew in unrequited lust until you get all rubbery."

"Perhaps I enjoy being rubbery."

Daniel nodded, but said nothing. Any opportunity for further
discussion was dashed by Serena finishing her conversation and urging
them on to walk faster.

They reached High Street and soon were standing in front of the
Spirited Flesh, one of the few strip clubs in the area, and certainly
the better known. Established a little more than ten years earlier
amidst screams of outrage by residents and various conservative
advocates, it hovered right beyond the zoning limits of the main
college area. There had been much discussion about the negative impact
of such an "amoral and disgraceful establishment" on the
impressionable minds of the student population, but in the end the
Chamber of Commerce approved the plan by the owners to refurbish an
old disaffected bar on High Street that had been an eye sore for so
long.

As it was the middle of the week, the entrance of The Spirited Flesh
was quiet. Not that there were lines even at the height of business
late on Friday and Saturday nights, but at least people would be
coming in and out. Not today, though, possibly because of the cold
that forced the three musketeers to pull up their collars and pull in
their necks. Even the bouncer was nowhere to be seen. The only
indication that the club was open was an illuminated neon sign above
the door, spelling out the name of the club with a curved line
suggesting a woman's outline. It was surprisingly tasteful. Serena,
Radhu, and Daniel opened the door of the club and went inside.

The bouncer was in the entranceway, a mass of muscle leaning against
the wall. He looked bored, and barely gave them a glance, although his
gaze lingered over Serena in an obvious head-to-toe sweep that said
much about what he liked. That she was wearing casual clothes that did
not especially emphasize her natural curves did not seem to deter him
as he stood leering at Serena's backside when the three friends filed
in front of him. He never bothered to check any identification.

Daniel had been to The Spirited Flesh a few times before with fellow
students for the occasional birthday celebration. He had found the
club decent as far as strip clubs went. The lighting was subdued,
leaving the large main area, which was littered with tables strewn
around a small dance floor, in a darkened half-light. The main stage
was bathed in the colored glow of a battery of projectors. The club
was kept clean, and there was an evident attempt at class.

The club was more crowded than they had expected. Most patrons where
drinking and paying attention to the stage, where three girls dressed
in next to nothing -- thongs and G-strings and heels -- were strutting
around doing what they did best around three illuminated poles. Daniel
paused to admire them, noting that they were exactly the kind of girls
he found attractive. They were thin, long-limbed, long-haired, with
large breasts and tight bubble butts. Like Jenn, he thought, and a
fleeting image of his girlfriend up on the stage stripping sprang up
in his mind without any provocation. Disturbed, he turned his
attention to the rest of the club, where girls barely more dressed
than the on-stage dancers were making the rounds, some going to tables
offering dances, while others served drinks, the distinction between
dancers and waitresses sometimes difficult to make. On his previous
visits, Daniel had always had the distinct impression that by slipping
a fifty to one of the waitresses she would have happily guided him to
one of the private back rooms and given him a lap dance. And those
waitresses, in their tiny outfits straight out of the mind of a
perverted Halloween costume designer's, were beautiful specimen of
womanhood. Not for the first time, Daniel wondered where the club
found such women. Their little town seemed hardly to have the
requisite population to support such beauty in such abundance.

Serena waved to someone sitting at a table, a young man with a
pleasantly retro Van Halen tee shirt, and she and Radhu and Daniel
headed that way, weaving around half-inebriated patrons. Presentations
were made, and Daniel learned that Shawn -- he of the Van Halen tee
shirt -- was a Media Studies major, and collaborated on many of
Serena's projects for the paper. Daniel wondered if Serena had slept
with him. He was not really her style.

"Shawn, where's Marjorie?" asked Serena. She had to raise her voice to
be heard over the music.

"I don't know. I was told she was here but I haven't seen her
yet. I've been looking, but much of the rooms in the back are for
VIPs, and strangely enough I don't qualify." The rueful smile on his
face revealed how young he was, and Daniel wondered for a moment
whether he was old enough to even be there.

"I guess I should go and ask around then," said Serena.

"What can I get you folks?" The voice was soft and warm, and everyone
at the table turned to the beautiful girl holding a tray that had
appeared behind them. Daniel smiled at seeing Radhu lose his
composure, something that ever only happened in the presence of a
beautiful woman, of which their waitress was indubitably a perfect
example. She was waiting for their answer in a pose that left little
to the imagination, a naked leg thrust forward, a hand resting on the
jutting hipbone.

"A Guinness, please. Do you have it on tap?" asked Daniel.

"Sure," she smiled, and Daniel could not help but respond in kind.

"Excuse me," interrupted Serena. "Do you know a Marjorie Duquesne?"

The waitress made a show to think for a moment, then shook her
head. "Nope, sorry. What are you drinking?" she asked turning to the
other boys.

Van Halen asked for a shot of vodka mixed with some random energy
drink, and Radhu, who had recovered a semblance of dignity, managed to
produce the words necessary to order a martini before Serena
interrupted once again.

"Are you sure? About way high, skinny, long black hair, beautiful, and
--"

"Listen, honey, take a look around. All the girls here are skinny and
beautiful. And they come and they go and I don't have the time or the
energy to learn their name, let alone remember them. So please just
tell me what you are going to drink and let me do my job."

Serena reluctantly ordered a Diet Coke, much to the silent disapproval
of the waitress, who left after sliding a glance towards Daniel
punctuated by a wink that seemed to send a charge directly to his
cock. Okay, she was good, he thought. He eyed Radhu, who clearly was
thinking along similar lines.

"Well that was unhelpful," mumbled Serena.

"I don't know," said Radhu. "She sounded very nice."

Before Serena could follow her disgusted look with a verbal tirade of
equivalent intensity, they were interrupted by the lights dimming
rapidly, with only a single spotlight shining on the main stage, and
by the booming voice of the DJ.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Spirited Flesh. It is our great
pleasure tonight to present to you one of our newest and already most
popular girl, the boner-inducing, bottom-squirming, pussy-juicing MD!"

The crowd went wild. Amidst the hooting and the catcalls, a slow
bass-heavy music arose while the lights dimmed further and artificial
fog spread across the stage. A shape emerged from the shadows. MD, as
it was certainly her, was creeping around slowly, the way cartoon
characters did when they tried to be stealthy, a look of intense
concentration discernible on her face despite the distance and the
darkness. She was wearing what could best be described as an Amazonian
rain forest explorer costume, or perhaps a safari rider costume --
Daniel could not really tell. Details aside, the costume was covering
all of her small frame from head to toe, and her hair was trapped
under an eggshell explorer hat. A gigantic camera of the kind not used
since the late nineteen sixties was strapped around her neck. The only
thing vaguely out of place was the pair of high-heeled boots she was
wearing.

As she labored to tip-toe around the stage, she playfully brought a
finger to her lips and shushed the audience, who gleefully responded
by shushing back at her. The music, still slow and throbbing, reminded
Daniel of the African drumbeats one often heard in movies, a
stereotype that fit into the scene playing out on the stage to
perfection.

"Marjorie," said Serena. She shouted at the stage. "Marjorie!" People
at nearby tables turned to look at her, and Daniel could see bouncers
eyeing their table with suspicion.

"Serena, we'll get kicked out if you continue."

"It's her, I'm sure."

Van Halen spoke up. "Guess we found her, then. What is she doing up
there, though?"

Before Serena or anyone else could venture a guess, the music picked
up in a crescendo, while Marjorie -- MD -- looked around with
exaggerated worry. Out of the shadows, six large black men jumped into
the lighted area, dressed like African natives, naked but for a rough
loincloth, muscular bodies glistening with oil or sweat, and
incongruously also equipped with cameras around their neck.

MD jumped and tried to run away, but she was surrounded. Before she
could do anything else, the six men, each much bigger than she was,
started slowly circling her in time with the music, which had picked
up a definite stalking beat. When she reached down for her camera, the
six men reached for theirs first, lifted them to their faces and,
still circling the trapped explorer, unleashed a torrent of flashes
that played out like a stroboscopic show.

Then things got interesting. MD tried to protect herself form the
photographic assault but she failed and, after a while, started
dancing, at first slowly, then more and more wildly. She twisted and
shimmied, her hands running all over her still completely covered
body, all the while catching the eyes of the six black men surrounding
her. She lifted her hands to her head and flipped off her hat, sending
a long stream of dark straight hair flying in waves about her. Upon
seeing that the men surrounding her redoubled their photographic
efforts, and amidst more flashes, MD simply unleashed, much to the joy
of the audience whose claps had picked up the rhythm of the music.

Acting as though the flashes were shots of aphrodisiac, MD danced and
stripped, in a routine that Daniel, along with the rest of the crowd
if he was any judge, found very effective. In short order, she had
gotten rid of her top, leaving her in a tiny bra that did very little
to contain her abundant cleavage, then her pants went flying, to the
crowd's delight. Clad in what amounted to a bikini along with her
omnipresent knee-high boots, MD strutted around the stage pursued by
the mob of camera-carrying black dancers, dancing and running her
hands over a body that Daniel had to appreciate. MD was short, and
while her body curvier than he usually enjoyed, she was undeniably
hot, and as he had mentioned to Jenn earlier that day, she had a
perfect pair of legs.

One of the black men on the stage moved behind MD, dancing along with
her in a nicely choreographed routine. He eventually reached out and
unhooked and pulled off MD's bra, and she immediately covered her
breasts and acted like something both awful and exciting had
happened. The audience cheered, and the rest of the men circling
around MD sent their cameras flashing at a frenzied pace. MD looked
like she was cornered by insane paparazzi.

The audience was demanding to see MD's breasts, and the men circling
her pounced. Two of them grabbed her forearms and pulled her arms away
from her body, holding them up. MD was trapped on the stage, and she
wiggled her body, showing it off to the leering crowd, her breasts
sitting high on her chest with all the perkiness of youth, her hard
nipples painted bright red.

The dancers with the cameras got closer and more flashes erupted. MD
went crazy, at first shying away from the flashes but eventually
succumbing to some uncontrollable impulse and she twisted her body to
face the lenses, pushing her chest out, smiling broadly. The men
holding her arms let go, and her hands flew to her breasts, squeezing
and grabbing and pinching, while she danced.

She strutted around the stage once more, offering her breasts to the
audience, who could not get enough. She turned to one of the men who
was trailing her with a camera, hooked her arms around his neck, then
thrust her breasts in his face, humping him with her lower body in
time with the music. MD kissed the man hard on the mouth and it was
hard to deny that they were making out on the stage, in front of
everyone. The other men on the stage circled again, snapping pictures
of the rutting couple.

MD broke it up after a few minutes of frenzied kissing, but then
repeated the whole routine with another dancer, then another, then
another.

The audience wanted more. MD pushed her last partner away, then sank
to the floor of the stage to work through a choreographed routine that
involved a mix of her lying on her back with her legs in the air,
caressing them and offering them to the men, and her on her hands and
knees thrusting a barely covered ass at the audience, crawling about
doing her best to titillate the increasingly noisy spectators. Daniel
worried that they might stampede onto the stage, but the enforcers
that the club employed did their job well and no patron got overly
enthusiastic. MD was doing a phenomenal job herself, and Daniel was
not surprised that she was one of the favorites.

MD finished a last round around the stage on all fours, like a panther
on the prowl, breasts swinging, and approached one of the dancers who
had put his camera down and was motioning for her to get closer. He
grabbed her by the shoulder when she was close enough, pulled her to
her knees and, bending low, kissed her. She immediately hooked her
arms around his neck, bent back, and melted into the kiss, swaying her
hips enticingly. The rest of the men kept on circling around them,
taking pictures.

The man kissing MD then went down on one knee and started kissing and
mauling her breasts, while MD threw her head back in apparent
ecstasy. Was she faking? wondered Daniel. If so, it was an
Oscar-worthy performance. MD looked like she was thoroughly aroused,
and kept herself from pouncing on the man before her only through
sheer effort of will.

The man lavishing attention to her chest moved away, only to be
replaced by another, who had the added distinction of being naked. His
loincloth was gone, and his cock was hard and pointing straight at MD
who eyed it with an almost transfixed expression on her face. All the
men on the stage were as a matter of fact naked by that point, Daniel
realized, and had thrown away their cameras. All were stroking their
cock with energy, although they had no expression on their face. They
were all exceedingly well endowed, in both length and girth, playing
up the myth of the Black Man to its fullest.

The man in front of MD got closer, and proceeded to slap his cock in
her face, lightly at first then more forcefully. MD tried to catch the
swinging cock with her mouth. The man straightened MD up, pushed her
breasts together, and shoved his cock in the resulting pocket and
slowly fucked her breasts, throwing his head back in a ritualized
expression of pleasure. MD helped him keep her breasts pressed
together, pushing her body up and down to increase friction, all in
time with the music.

Daniel exchanged a look with his friends around the table, thinking
that this was by far the most explicit strip show that he had ever
heard of. Serena was watching with a frown, taking in everything as
the reporter that she was, although the flush in her cheeks suggested
that she was not completely immune to the erotic nature of the
event. Radhu and Van Halen were watching with a more amazed expression
that did not surprise Daniel in the least.

The man fucking MD's breasts pushed her away, and she twisted in place
before settling in front of another of the dancers who presented her
with his own hard cock, which he unceremoniously pushed in her
mouth. To the general clamor of the crowd, the show on the stage
degenerated into a frenzy of lust. MD enthusiastically sucked off the
man, going in deep and with gusto, jacking him off in
counterpoint. Before he could come he was replaced by another, and
before long MD was cycling through all the black dancers, fucking her
face onto their cocks, in and out, spit flying all over the place,
hair bouncing like a sheet in a storm, breasts swaying, legs
straining.

When she had sucked everyone twice, she was pushed back on her back,
whereupon she crawled towards the edge of the stage, mouth open,
tongue hanging, sucking the air and looking crazed, as if she was on
the hunt for more cock to suck. The men nearest the stage were
screaming at her that they had what she was looking for, that they had
what she could stick down her throat and choke on, that they could
fill her up like the slut that she was. MD looked at them
hungrily. The air was charged with a buzz that verged on
danger. Daniel was frightened by its intensity.

But MD started dancing again, her movements lascivious as she ran her
hands over her body, alternating between kneeling on the ground and
lying on her back and standing and strutting in her tall heels. The
men were standing in place in a wide semicircle, not quite dancing,
but not quite motionless either, each keeping his cock hard by
stroking it rhythmically.

Two of the men broke rank to approach MD, and grabbed her arms, in a
repeat of earlier. MD again struggled to free herself, but they
resisted, spreading her arms and forcing her legs apart. Then the man
that first fucked her breasts approached, slowly, and grabbed hold of
MD's skimpy panties. Marking a dramatic pause, he ripped them off with
an abrupt jerk, and the audience cheered as MD was revealed in all her
nakedness to their feasting eyes. She was completely shaved, her
smooth snatch fully exposed, and Daniel could see the moisture on her
slit from where he was sitting.

The man who had ripped her panties off approached MD and ran his hands
down her body, cupping a breast before reaching her crotch and then
fingered and teased and tickled the poor girl, eventually dipping one
then two fingers inside her as the audience chanted "fuck her, fuck
her, fuck her." MD closed her eyes, whether to avoid looking at what
was being done to her or to bask in the sensations Daniel could not
tell. The man pulled his fingers out of her pussy, made a big show of
smelling them before presenting them to MD and pushing them into her
mouth. She sucked on his two fingers like she had sucked on the cocks
earlier, with utter abandon.

The men holding her arms apart let her go just as the finger-fucking
man took hold of MD and laid her down on the floor of the stage. She
immediately spread her legs, lifting her ass off the floor, shoulders
pressed down, as if she was reaching up to catch something with her
pelvis. The man laid on top of her, supported himself on his strong
arms, and together they mimed a couple fucking, the man rubbing his
cock on MD's belly, taut under the strain of the position she was
holding. She writhed under him as if she was in the throes of passion,
her hair spewed all over the floor of the stage. Then the man pushed
himself off and another took his place. MD was moaning and groaning
like a porn star, ass gyrating over the floor, as though she was
meeting the thrusts of her partner. It went on like that for several
minutes, a choreography of lovemaking perfectly executed to the music,
man after man taking his place over the short asian rubbing against
him. Some kissed her, and she responded with eagerness; some attacked
her breasts, and others her neck.

Daniel, finishing his pint of Guinness and debating whether to ask
their cute waitress for another one, was again surprised that the club
allowed a strip show to go that far. Which made the next move by the
stage crew even more shocking.

MD's changing vocalizations were the first hint that something
different was going on. She had been moaning and groaning loudly with
almost comical exaggeration, but suddenly she gasped, and kept gasping
and moaning in a much more heartfelt manner, as if she was unable to
help herself as opposed to putting on a show. She was also grabbing
her partner -- the original finger-fucking man, as they had cycled
through all the men already -- around the neck holding on for dear
life as he simulated plowing into her forcefully. It was only when
Daniel looked carefully that he noted the angle between the man and MD
and concluded that she was now being penetrated for real, that the man
was thoroughly thrusting his large cock into her, pile-driving,
fucking her right there before everyone. The audience must have come
to the same realization at that point, because a huge cheer erupted,
screams and chants punctuating every thrust of cock into cunt. The
energy in the room was astonishing.

Much like earlier, all the men on the stage took turns lying on top of
MD and fucking her. All in the same plank position, with their arms
supporting them and MD reaching up with her lower body, her legs
spread, her feet planted on the ground for leverage, holding on to
their necks, taking in the brunt of their assault with a humpf or a
moan, almost drowned by the deafening noise of the audience and the
music.

None of the men had come, noted Daniel. Or at least, the cock they
pulled out from MD when the time came to switch was still hard and
bobbing menacingly when they returned to the semicircle.

After another cycle through, MD was left alone center stage, and she
did another floor routine, moving about with legs in the air, showing
her now reddened pussy to the audience when she spread her legs and
ran her fingers through her pussy lips.

She went on all four, and made her way to one of the dancers in the
semicircle, who made a show of rejecting her. Head down, she moved to
another dancer to be greeted in the same way. And so it went, the
audience on the edge of their seat to see who would take advantage of
the girl and how, until the fifth man she accosted did not push her
away. He grabbed her by the hair, and pulled her head to his cock,
which she promptly swallowed to the audience's roar of approval. The
man pushed his cock deep inside MD's mouth, as was clear by the
strained clenching of his buttocks, and Daniel was amazed that she
swallow that cock completely despite its size. And indeed, her nose
was hitting the man's abdomen, and she held the position for several
seconds before pulling out, taking a deep breath, then plunging in
again, sucking with all her might.

As she was blowing the man before her, another sneaked behind her and
lining himself up thrust into her, in a drawn out but unrelenting
push. MD did not seem to notice, or rather her sucking seemed
unaffected. When the man behind her started fucking her, at first
slowly then more and more roughly, she seemed to struggle to maintain
her sucking rhythm, but the man whose cock was ravishing her throat
helpfully guided her head with his hands.

And so it went. The man in her mouth soon exploded, pulling out before
the deed, spewing his jism all over MD's face and hair while she tried
to catch it in her mouth. The man behind her pulled out as well, still
hard, and went to take the place of the man that was just in MD's
mouth and she took his cock in her mouth as well and if she tasted
herself on that new cock she did not seem to mind. The man who had
just come went back to the semicircle of black dancers around MD, his
softening cock still large. A new man from that semicircle took his
place behind MD and pushed his cock into her.

The gang bang continued for at least ten minutes, with a man fucking
MD's increasingly messy face until he came only to be replaced by the
man that was fucking her from behind, himself replaced by a fresh man
from the semicircle of naked men surrounding the place of honor.

When they were all done, some having gone through twice, MD collapsed
on the stage in a pool of sweat and cum, exhausted. The audience
cheered and catcalled and volleyed darkly abusive epithets at her. She
seemed oblivious to everything. The men in the semicircle slowly
queued out, two of them staying behind to help the poor girl to her
feet. She saluted the audience with a tired grin to thunderous
applause before staggering offstage, supported by her two male
companions. The audience took a while to calm down, barely mollified
by three standard strippers that came onto the stage to perform their
rather run-of-the-mill routines around the poles, amidst slow-dying
chants of "MD! MD! MD!"

"Well," said Daniel, after a long silence during which everyone at the
table tried to digest what they had just seen, "I didn't know you
could do that onstage in this state."

"You can't," added Serena, angrily. "And I can't understand why
Marjorie, of all people, is doing it. I have to talk to her. Come on."
She headed in the general direction of backstage, Van Halen jumping to
follow her.

"Radhu, man, are you okay?" Daniel was looking at his friend, who was
starting at the stage with a lost look in his eyes.

"Yes, yes, I'm fine. It's simply... Wow... That was... That was hot. I
did not know such shows could be so arousing."

"Most aren't. This wasn't your typical strip show. I think Serena's
right, something weird's going on here. Come on, let's go find her."

Serena was not difficult to locate. She was arguing rather loudly with
a man twice her height and three times her weight with "bouncer"
written all over his forehead and "limited patience" in smaller type
just below that.

"I'm sorry miss," he was saying in a growly voice that belonged in a
movie, "but I can't let you in back there. It's performers only."

Serena got closer, did her best doe eyes impression, and ran her hands
down the tight shirt of the security man.

"Sweetie," she said, her tone dipping into registers that made men
shiver -- Daniel smiled unwittingly when he saw Radhu's eyes almost
pop out of his head, the poor boy getting way too much excitement that
night -- "how about if you let me inside to talk to my friend, I come
and see you afterwards and we spend some quality time together, if you
catch my drift. I'm sure I can find ways to entertain a big strong man
like you. To be honest, the show we just saw kindda turned me on. And
I can be very, very naughty when I'm turned on."

Serena had wrapped a leg around the security man, who blinked for a
second when his gaze dropped down into the now revealing cleavage of
Serena's shirt.

"Sorry miss, but I get all the tail I can possibly want here, and
while you're cute and I'd love to see what you look like under those
clothes, not enough to lose my job over it. So scram."

Before Serena could say something to get them kicked out with extreme
physical prejudice, Daniel piped up.

"I'm so sorry we bothered you. We really just want to let MD know
something important. Perhaps you would be willing to hand over a
message to her? With a little something for your trouble, of course. I
seriously doubt you've been expressly told not to let fans show their
appreciation to your star performers."

The bouncer looked down at Daniel, silently gauging him, then nodded
once, and went back to staring in the distance, arms crossed over his
broad chest. Serena looked at him, then looked at Daniel, clearly
debating whether to start arguing. Daniel raised an eyebrow in a
silent "if you want to say something to Marjorie this is probably your
only chance" message. Serena sighed and fished for pen and paper in
her purse.

She handed a hastily scribbled folded piece of paper as well as
several bills to the security man, who accepted the lot without
changing expression in the slightest.

"I just want you to know," added Serena, all tease and sex and lust,
running a hand down the chest of the security man once more, "that I
would have done things to you that those little amateurs up there have
never heard of. I would have..."

She paused, and stood tip-toe to whisper in the bouncer's ear. Daniel,
who knew just what a Serena in full form was capable of, struggled to
suppress a grin. The security man's face fell, lust flashing in his
eyes, and he looked at Serena, who stepped away from him looking coy,
like the proverbial cat after swallowing the proverbial mouse.

"Think about that when you jack off tonight in bed, sweetie."

They went back to the main room of the joint, and Radhu jostled up to
Serena.

"What did you tell him?"

She smiled. "Nothing for you to worry about, Rad. Just making sure
that that boy doesn't forget me, that's all."

"So what now?" asked Daniel.

"We go out and check out the back. I bet you anything there's another
entrance and, if we're lucky, we'll catch Marjorie on the way out."

They left the club and took a moment to locate the alley that would
bring them to the rear of the building. Radhu remained behind as a
lookout in case security showed up. The rest of them ran down the
alley.

They made it just in time to see a well-dressed square-shouldered man
step out of the back entrance of the club behind a shorter girl and
lead her to a black limousine that was idling quietly with its rear
door open. The well-dressed man turned to look at the three figures
that emerged from the alley, and there was a moment of tense silence
before Serena shouted and charged.

"Marjorie! Let her go, you fucker!"

That shocked the man into action. He lifted Marjorie and squarely
tossed her into the waiting vehicle before climbing in
himself. Marjorie had not protested, merely looking at the running
Serena with eyes empty of any expression.

The limousine reared forward just as Serena reached it, and she had
time only to slap its trunk before the vehicle sped off and turned the
corner with a screech of tires. Serena was still shouting obscenities
at it long after it had disappeared from sight.

"She looked way out there," said Van Halen, clearly shaken.

"Maybe she was drugged," said Daniel. "That would explain a lot."

"She didn't dance like she was drugged," said Serena, still looking in
the distance. "Something else is going on here. And why was she
taken?"

"Come on," said Daniel, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I got the
license plate number, maybe that can be of use."

They turned to head back to the alley and Radhu, who was waiting for
them.

"What's that?"

Van Halen bent down to pick up something shiny on the ground, and held
it up to the dim light above the closed door door out of which
Marjorie had emerged. It was a charms bracelet.

"Maybe Marjorie dropped it when that guy grabbed her."

"Maybe," said Serena, taking the bracelet and looking at it
carefully. There were three shiny silver charms on the bracelet.

"Greek letters," she said, looking more closely. "Delta. Iota. Kappa."

They looked at each other. Delta Iota Kappa was a well-known
fraternity on campus. But what was their connection with Marjorie?
