The Next Level

Author: Eric Stephenson
Views: 4243

The Next Level

Author: Eric Stephenson

Summary: A young woman has a unforgettable experience on a rich man's yacht.

Warning: this is a work of fiction. The people, places, and events in this story are not real. Any similarity with actual people, places, and events is just weird. I just made this stuff up. This is for adults. If you are not considered an adult, please don't read this.

Chapter One: The Lies We Know

Cindy was a mongrel bastard. Cindy knew this to be true. Her white mother had born her out of wedlock and put her up for adoption. A permanent adoption never came, and she grew up in orphanages and foster homes. The identity of her father was a mystery. Whoever he was, he wasn't white. She was a small woman with jet black hair, light brown skin, almond-shaped green eyes and a boyish figure. When she turned 18 years of age, Cindy caught the ferry to Merrimac Island.

Once upon a time, there was a little fishing village on Merrimac Island in Pamlico Sound of North Carolina. Then bad times came, many of the fishers moved on, and the village nearly folded. However, a couple of seafaring entrepreneurs saw an opportunity and converted the fishing village into the Merrimac Island Marina and Yachting Club.

The marina soon proved to be a popular port of call for sailors and yachtsmen traveling up and down the Eastern Seaboard of the United States. As a result, a variety of exclusive hotels, fine restaurants, shops and other resort facilities opened to meet the needs of the sailing public.

Cindy hoped to get a job with one of the many businesses that catered to the seafarers who visited the island. One of the businesses that caught Cindy's eyes was the Merrimac Island Dancers. From what she could learn, the Merrimac Island Dancers were the featured performers of a local stage production called "The Sounds of Carolina."

During "The Sounds of Carolina," the performers would belly dance, folk dance, and do other types of dances. Well, Cindy had taken a few ballet lessons, and she could line dance. So, she decided to join the Merrimac Island Dancers.

However, the Merrimac Island Dancers were not who Cindy and most people thought they were. The Merrimac Island Dancers were also top-grade prostitutes. The dancers did "the Sounds of Carolina" primarily to keep up appearances. While a goodly portion of their income came from dancing, most of their money came from satisfying the sexual needs of the aristocrats and parvenu who came to the island.

Officially, the blue bloods and social climbers who employed the dancers did not pay for sex. They instead made a financial contribution to the company, Merrimac Island Dancers, Inc.. The company would then pay the dancers a salary for training and performing publicly with the troupe.

Any sexual relationship that occurred between the VIPs and the dancers was strictly a personal and private affair between consenting adults and not the result of a business transaction. At least, that was the official line. The truth was that these patrons, both men and women, paid a lot of money to have sex with the dancer or dancers of their choice.

At first, the truth of how the dancers actually earned their money shocked Cindy. She certainly had no intentions of being a prostitute. But when she learned how much the dancers made by working on their backs, Cindy quickly changed her mind. After all, she did have some dance experience, and she certainly knew how to fuck. So, Ms. Jacqui, the "Boss Lady" of the Merrimac Island Dancers, agreed to let her join the dance troupe and set her up in a bungalow with two other dancers, Maggie and Karyn.

However, Cindy quickly learned that the Merrimac Island Dancers were way beyond anything she'd done before. For one thing, they danced more than she had thought they did. Another thing, the dancers weren't just prostitutes. They were courtesans, a type of high-class prostitutes. They catered to the fashionable elite. So, Cindy not only had to get in shape and learn a variety of different dance steps, but she also had to proper etiquette and courtesy.

However, the biggest adjustments Cindy had to make was having sex with other women. Before joining the troupe, Cindy had rarely done anything more than kiss or hug another woman. Since joining the Merrimac Island Dancers, though, Cindy not only slept with women, but she became very popular with the troupe's lesbian patrons. As a result, most of Cindy's regular clients were now women.

The irony was that Cindy preferred men. She didn't mind sleeping with women, and for the most part she greatly enjoyed the company of the women who hired her. But, a strap-on dildo to her was a poor substitute for a real cock and a man who knew how to use it. So, whenever Ms. Jacqui offered her an opportunity to "entertain" a male patron, Cindy would jump at the chance. Dr. Clint was such an opportunity.

According to Ms. Jacqui, Dr. Clint was a scientist of some renown, although Cindy had never heard of him. His ship would be berthed at the yacht club for several days, and he wanted some female companionship. He'd heard "good things" about Cindy, and he wanted to find out for himself if what he'd heard was true. So, Ms. Jacqui instructed Cindy to dress simply, pack light, and plan to spend several days with Dr. Clint on his yacht.

By telling Cindy to "dress simply" and "pack light", Ms. Jacqui was telling Cindy that Dr. Clint was a horny bastard, who didn't care what Cindy wore, because she wouldn't be wearing it for long. So, Monday evening, Cindy pulled on a black camisole, blue lowrider jeans over black thong panties, and a pair of black sling-back shoes. Then she stuffed a small duffel bag with an assortment of underwear, swimwear, sleepwear, and toiletries and arrived at the yacht club just after sunset.

Having been to the yacht club many times before, many people recognized her and more than a few of them had a damn good idea why she was there. So, gaining entrance to the docks was no problem. Getting to Dr. Clint's yacht was a different story.

Dr. Clint's yacht was not berthed where Ms. Jacqui had told Cindy it would be, nor was Dr. Clint. Instead, Dr. Clint's launch was there. His launch, a small motorboat, was there to take Cindy to the yacht, which was anchored in. Helming the launch was a young Polynesian woman named Jasmine. She identified herself as Dr. Clint's pilot. Cindy boarded the launch and sat back as Jasmine piloted the small boat out into the sound

Ms. Jacqui liked for Cindy and the other dancers to keep a diary of their "business experiences." However, she urged her dancers not to use their clients real or full names in their reports. So, Cindy had gotten into the habit of mentally creating aliases for people she met. Thus, she started thinking of Dr. Clint's pilot as "Captain Jazz".

"Captain Jazz" didn't look much older than Cindy, and she certainly wasn't any taller. She looked like a cross between a Japanese school girl and a sea captain. She had long black hair and long legs encased in black nylon hose. She wore a pleated, navy blue, knee-length skirt; a navy blue blazer, a white blouse, and a black tie. When Captain Jazz spoke, she spoke with a highly polished British accent. However, she mostly sat quietly as she steered the small craft towards a large yacht.

Cindy had spent enough time, the past 19 months, with sailors and boaters to know a little about boats. From what she could tell, Dr. Clint's yacht looked to be at least a 150 footer. It looked like a small ocean liner with three exposed decks.

At the stern or back of the ship, on the lowest of the three exposed decks, stood a blond man with a ponytail and a goatee. He was a relatively slender white man of average height. The man wore sandals, khaki slacks, a flowery "Hawaiian" print shirt, dark sunglasses, and a white captain's hat. It was a costume that Cindy had seen worn many times before around the island.

The man welcomed Cindy on board and introduced himself as Dr. Clint. Then, taking Cindy's duffel from her, he handed the bag to Jasmine and instructed Jasmine to get the ship under way. Captain Jazz took the bag and walked away. Dr. Clint then explained to Cindy that they would be taken a little cruise around Pamlico Sound.

Dr. Clint, like Captain Jazz, spoke formal English, but from his accent, she could tell that English was not his native tongue. In fact, he said his name in such a precise and clipped way, Cindy began thinking of him as "Doctor Clipped" instead of "Dr. Clint". However, "Clipped" and "Clint" somehow kept getting entangled in Cindy's mind, and before long she began thinking of him as "Doctor Clit".

Having been on several "little cruises" already around the sound, Cindy was not all concerned. So, she followed Doctor Clit to up one level. There he treated Cindy to a light supper while the ship moved away from Merrimac Island. Actually, several of Dr. Clint's crew members served dinner to he and Cindy while he presented his lecture on "The Use of Biochemicals in Behavioural Control" to her. Cindy listened politely but didn't really pay much attention to it. It much too boring, and she didn't understand what Doctor Clit was talking about.

When supper was done, he directed Black Anna - Cindy's name for one of the servers - to show Cindy where the head (or bathroom) was. He wanted Cindy to be sure and freshen up before they got down to business. Once Cindy had finished, Black Anna was to escort Cindy to the library.

Black Anna did as instructed and guided Cindy to first the head and then the library. Then, the two women parted company. The library was a window-less cabin with shelves and cabinets lining the walls. On the right side of the cabin stood a desk with an executive chair behind it. The top of the desk was completely bare. On the left side of the cabin were a sofa, a coffee table, and two chairs. Doctor Clit sat on the sofa.

Doctor Clit had changed clothes. He was no longer wearing his "laid-back sailor suit." He'd even taken off his dark glasses, and Cindy could see his black eyes beneath his bushy black eyebrows. Now, he simply wore a red and black kimono. He didn't even wear any underwear. Cindy knew this because she could see his limp dick and heavy balls through an opening in the kimono.

However, his little flash of flesh didn't faze Cindy one bit, and she and Doctor Clit got down to business. First, he and Cindy coordinated expectations. That is, he expected her to act out certain BDSM fantasies with him. She in turn expected him to pay her a lot of money for acting out his fantasies. Once they understood what each wanted, he told Cindy to take off all her clothes.

Cindy kicked off her shoes, walked to the center of the room, and began stripping. Remembering what Ms. Jacqui had said and judging from his tone of voice, Cindy didn't put on a show, but got undressed as quickly as she could.

Quickly in succession came off her jeans, her cami, and then her panties. When Cindy was completely naked, she picked her clothes off the floor and placed them on one of the chairs beside the sofa. Then, she stepped back and let Doctor Clit admire her nude form.

Dr. Clit took his time and enjoyed the view. Cindy knew that he liked what he saw because she saw his dick stiffen and poke out of his robe. However, he made no attempts to cover himself. Instead, he had her turn around and assume several different positions so that he could thoroughly study her brown little body. When he was done, he had her go bend over the desk.

Cindy immediately turned around, walked over to the clean desk and bent over it. She fully expected the top of the desk to be cold. She was not disappointed. She caught her breath as her exposed flesh made contact with the chilled desktop. Since he wanted to act out a BDSM fantasy, Cindy also fully expected Doctor Clit to start spanking her. However, this time she was mistaken.

Instead, Doctor Clit got off the sofa and slipped on a pair of rubber gloves. Then, he pulled a small bottle of lotion from a pocket of his kimono and stood behind Cindy. He told her to spread her legs and reach back and spread her butt cheeks. When she had done as instructed, Doctor Clit squatted directly behind her and began smearing lotion in and around Cindy's butthole.

Cindy had been sodomized so many times that her asshole was not at all tight. So, Doctor Clit's fingers easily slipped inside her. She grunted when his fingers initially pushed past her anal ring, but otherwise she made no sound. He asked if he was hurting her, but Cindy assured him that she was in no pain.

Doctor Clit grunted something unintelligible and inserted something small, hard, and round deep inside her rectum. When she asked him what that was, he told her that it was a special aphrodisiac he wanted to try out on her - or rather in her.

Then, he pulled off his gloves and gave her a firm swat on her fanny. Cindy yelped as much in surprise as in pain, releasing her grip on her buttocks. He told her that the swat was for being too nosy. He then put on a new pair of gloves, reached down, and started playing with her clitoris.

Cindy started groaning loudly and yelling how much she liked his touch. This was because, as with her ass, a lot of different people - women more than men - have played with her button. They usually expected Cindy to make a lot of noise when they did. When she didn't, they - men more than women - were often disappointed. She realized that she hadn't made much noise when he was greasing her asshole. So, she decided that she would make up for it by acting as if his stroking turned her on.

However, Doctor Clit was not impressed. He could tell from looking at her crotch, that she wasn't as aroused as she wanted him to think. So, he slapped her butt again and demanded that she stopped moaning and groaning.

He didn't want to fake her it, he told her, but instead wanted her to do her best to remain silent. That way when she did react to his stimulation, he would know that the aphrodisiac was working. With Cindy thoroughly admonished, Doctor Clit then resumed his gentle manipulation of her clitoris.

Cindy took this to mean that it was a contest. This wasn't too unusual, since guys always wanted to compete. However, this was a test of her patience, and Cindy was up to the challenge.

So she braced herself and did her best not to make any sort of sound. And, after several minutes, the most he'd gotten out of her was a couple of grunts and a snort. In fact, she was so successful at controlling herself that she knew it would be quite some time before she even started moaning and groaning.

But even as she was thinking this, his finger brushed her clit once again, and she suddenly caught her breath. Another stroke, and she yelped. He stroked her again, and she clamped her hand over her mouth to keep from screaming. But, then he stroked her yet again.

She arched her back, cried out, and came. However, Doctor Clit didn't stop. He stroked her one more time. Her muscles convulsed. She screamed uncontrollably and incoherently. Her mind exploded, and then there was darkness.

Chapter Two: The Truth We Tell

When Cindy awoke, she discovered that she was lying on her back on the carpeted deck in front of the desk. Her feet pointed to port, to the center of the cabin. Her head pointed towards the starboard wall. The carpet on which she lay was soaked with her sweat and other secretions.

Hell, her whole body was drenched. Moreover she was exhausted, and her mind more than a little hazy. She tried to stand up, to lift her head, but she found that she could barely move. She could still hear the engines running and feel the deck vibrating. However, she could not see Doctor Clit anywhere.

Then, from the other side of the cabin, a man walked over and stood over her. He was completely naked. He looked kind of like Dr. Clint, but this guy didn't have a goatee, or blond hair, or even a ponytail. Hell, he wasn't even wearing gloves.

The man standing over her was clean-shaven with short black hair. Dark hair covered the man's muscular chest, muscular arms, taut muscular belly, and muscular legs. Large hairy balls hung below a stiff, seven to eight inch dick. The penis jutted upwards at an angle out of a thick patch of dark fur at his crotch.

His penis was sheathed with latex. He was wearing a condom. Actually, he was wearing two condoms. Whoever this guy was, he was ready for business and serious about his work.

Cindy tried to ask him if he was Dr Clint, but she found that she couldn't speak. She tried asking other questions. She tried cussing him out, but still she couldn't speak. She kept opening her mouth, but she just couldn't form any words. All she could do was bark and wail.

The man standing over her, though, had no such trouble. He ordered her to get into position, and miraculously she could move. Without thinking, she bent her knees and spread her legs. She still couldn't get up or talk, but she could position herself for fucking. She also could identify the man's voice. It was definitely Doctor Clit.

Doctor Clit knelt down between Cindy's feet and straddled her torso with his hands to either side of her shoulders. When his covered cock brushed against her inner thigh, something like an electric shock - but better - coursed through her body. She didn't have an orgasm, but she came damn close.

Before the shockwave could subside, Dr. Clint leaned down and licked her left tit like a lollipop. When he did, she climaxed. It wasn't as mind-blowing as the first, but it was an orgasm. Then, he licked her right tit. She came again.

Then, he kissed her on the lips, and lined his cock up with her pussy. By the time he got it in her, she'd had two more orgasms. Then he started fucking her. She doesn't know if he ever came, because after three thrusts, she had another mind-blowing orgasm and lost all awareness of her surroundings.

As her awareness returned, the first thing she noticed was that the engines had stopped. However, she could hear waves lapping against the hull of the ship. She was still at sea, but the ship was no longer moving. When she opened her eyes, she discovered that she was no longer in the library. She was in another cabin, lying on top of a long, narrow and padded table high off the floor.

Doctor Clit stood next to the table, on Cindy's right side. He was no longer naked, but was dressed as an actual doctor, complete with lab coat and stethoscope. He was fiddling with some sort of control panel attached to the table. Cindy tried to reassure herself that this was all just a part of Doctor Clit's BDSM fantasy, but she was having trouble believing it.

Cindy tried to sit up. She tried to roll off. She tried to escape, but she was as immobile as she had been on the floor of the library. There were no straps. Nothing held her down. She just couldn't get her muscles to move. Her heart still beat, though. At least she could breathe. At least she could blink and move her eyes.

When Doctor Clit saw that Cindy was awake, he told her to bend her knees and spread her legs - keeping her feet on the table. Without hesitation and without thought, Cindy did as the doctor had said.

Cindy was surprised that she could move. She was surprised that she had moved. Yet, when she tried to lift her head, it didn't move. Her neck muscles wouldn't even strain.

With her positioned as desired, Doctor Clit lifted up a dildo - a vibrator - from beneath the table. The vibrator had a wire trailing behind it. The wire ran from the vibrator to the control panel. He took the wired vibrator and inserted it into her pussy.

Cindy steeled herself for another orgasm. However, nothing happened. She felt the vibrator sliding in her, and it stirred her a little. But, it did not come close to bringing her to climax. Even when Doctor Clit flipped a switch on the device and started the vibrator, Cindy still did not come.

Her titties stiffened, and her juices started flowing, but she was a long way from the mind-blowing ecstasy she had experienced before. It was something of a letdown for her.

Doctor Clit, however, was anything but disappointed. The rise of her nipples seemed to please him. He took a small clamp and attached it to her distended left tit. The bite of the clamp into her sensitive flesh caused her to grunt painfully.

Doctor Clit ignored Cindy and attached another clamp to her right tit. The clamps, like the vibrator, were wired. The wires ran from the clamp to the control panel. They reminded her of tiny battery charger clamps.

With the clamps secured to her tiny boobs, Doctor Clit flipped a couple more switches and sent a small electric charge coursing through the wires, to the clamps, and into her body. Cindy groaned softly. The electric charge did not shock or really hurt her. However, it did send a tingling sensation through her boobs and throughout her entire body. It didn't hurt, but it definitely was unnerving.

Finally though, after what seemed like forever to Cindy, Doctor Clit switched off the current. Cindy howled in frustrated relief. She wanted to say more, but she couldn't. She wanted to yank the clamps from her chest and rub her sore tits. She couldn't. All she could do was to lay there and wait for the doctor.

Doctor Clit picked up another wired dildo. He told her to lift her ass. She did as he said. She lifted her buttocks off the examination table, putting all her weight on her feet and her upper back. He then spread her cheeks with one hand and plugged the vibrator into her butt. Satisfied that the dildo was securely stuffed up her butt, Doctor Clit told Cindy to relax.

Cindy straightened out her knees and returned to a completely prone position with a dildo in her ass, one in her cunt, and two clamps on her tits. Once she was prone, the doctor then placed a pair of opaque goggles over her eyes and earphones on her ears. The goggles and the earphones, like everything else, was wired into the control panel.

For several seconds, the goggles and the earphones kept Cindy blind and deaf. But then a slight hum began buzzing in her ears, and an animated kaleidoscope began dancing before her eyes. Then, she heard Doctor Clit talking to her through the earphones.

As the video-goggles displayed the swirling colors, Doctor Clit told her that they had a mutual friend. This mutual friend, he told her, was going to the next level in her career. Some very powerful people desperately wanted their mutual friend to have success at that level. However, these power brokers were afraid.

They were afraid that if word got out that their mutual friend had consorted with whores, then a great scandal would erupt and their friend's journey to the next level would fail. So, they had hired Doctor Clit and his associates to see to it that word of their mutual friend's indiscretions did not get out.

The easiest way to accomplish this, Doctor Clit explained, would be to kill Cindy and her friends. However, their mutual friend insisted that Cindy not be harmed, at least not permanently, and her memory left mostly intact. Also taking into account how many important people might miss Cindy and her friends, The Powers That Be agreed.

Thus, The Powers That Be commissioned Doctor Clit and his associates with removing all "incriminating" knowledge of their mutual friend from Cindy's and her fellow dancers' minds. However, that, according to Doctor Clit, was easier said than done. In fact, he was rather doubtful that he could truly eliminate such information from Cindy's mind. He could though make sure, through a process of hypnosis and psychological conditioning, that Cindy and her friends either did not want to remember such information or remembered it differently. Ms. Jacqui had already been "processed," and Cindy was next.

However, before he could begin, he needed to learn all Cindy knew about their mutual friend. He needed to know this so that he would know which information to suppress, eliminate, or alter. This is why he had given her the suppository.

The suppository was more than just an aphrodisiac. It was also a mind-control drug. However, the taste of the drug was so bad that the only effective way to introduce the drug into the subject was either through injections or suppositories. Doctor Clit explained that he had figured that a suppository inserted into her anal passage during foreplay would be less noticeable than sticking a needle in her arm.

Doctor Clit further explained that the aphrodisiac heightened the sensitivity of the subjects erogenous zones, facilitating the achievement of multiple or frequent orgasms. This was because intense emotional events, such as orgasms, released certain biochemicals in the body that triggered the mind-controlling aspects of the drug.

Then, each subsequent orgasm would trigger the release of more of the mind-control drug. However, after six or seven orgasms, the aphrodisiac tended to lose potency. The amount of mind-controlling drug released after six or seven orgasms, though, was enough to thoroughly - if temporarily - suppress the subjects will.

Thus, after having endured multiple orgasms, Cindy was now completely under his control and would obey him for as long as the drug remained in her system. This was he had not strapped her down. He didn't need to do so. When she was in a stupor following her last mind-blowing orgasm, Doctor Clit had told her not to move and not to talk. And so, she had not.

But now though, he was ready for her to talk. But first, he needed for her to be in the proper frame of mind. Suddenly the buzzer in her ass started vibrating, as did the buzzer in her pussy. At the same time, electricity started coursing through the clamps, tingling first her nipples, then her boobs, and finally the rest of her body.

Cindy howled. She could not speak, but she could scream, and she did. She was not in pain. She did not hurt, at least not physically. But, she was distressed, and not necessarily in a bad way. It was as if someone or some people were running feathers all over her naked body, and she couldn't stop them.

She hated it, and she loved it. She was greatly turned on by it. However, just when she was on the brink of another orgasm, Doctor Clit switched everything off. Cindy howled again in frustration.

When her howling subsided, Doctor Clit gave her command to speak. He told her to tell him everything she knew about the woman she called "Irish Waltz".

Chapter Three: The Pain We Feel

Cindy awoke to a strange sound. After listening a bit, she finally realized that it was the sound of a hair dryer. Someone was in the bathroom, drying her hair. For some reason, she was fairly certain it was a woman drying her hair. But, when her brain finally kicked in, she realized that it was probably either Maggie or Karyn, the dancers she shared the waterfront cottage and sometimes beds with.

Cindy also realized that she was lying face-down on the carpet with a dildo in her ass. Reaching down behind her, Cindy slowly pulled the inactive vibrator from her rectum. She assumed that the batteries had died some time during the night while in her ass. She rolled on to her back and sat up on the carpeted floor, wincing and groaning as she did.

She ached all over. Her boobs ached, her pussy ached, and her ass ached. With the inert dildo in her left hand, she used her right hand to rub her sore tits while she acclimated herself to her surroundings. "Getting the lay of the land," one of her clients, Wrangler Dan, a successful horse trainer and avid outdoorsman, often told her. Another one of Dan's sayings was, "feeling 'rode hard and put up wet.'"

For a long time, Cindy didn't know what the hell Wrangler Dan meant, but she certainly knew now. It meant that she was feeling mightily used and abused. Judging from the bottles of Tequila, Vodka, and Rum scattered throughout the bedroom, she concluded that much of it was self-abuse.

As she sat there on the floor, trying the remember the night before, there came a knock on her door. Before, she could answer, the door opened, and Maggie, a tall and busty blonde, stood in the doorway.

"Good mornin', sleepy head," Maggie said cheerfully with a deep Southern drawl. No matter how much abuse Maggie endured, she almost always sounded cheerful. "How're you feelin' this mornin'?"

Maggie was wearing a lowrider jeans and a white cami over a white bra. She had a gym bag slung over her left shoulder. It looked a lot like what Cindy wore last night. But, Maggie put curves to the outfit that Cindy never could, and Cindy never needed a bra.

Did she wear that outfit last night or the night before? Cindy couldn't remember. Suddenly, last night's revelry caught up with Cindy, and she felt sick to her stomach. Cindy immediately dropped the dildo on the carpet and bolted to her feet.

She raced past Maggie and out the door. Then, she was down the hall, through a partially opened bathroom door, and past Karyn, who was busily brushing her teeth. She ended up dropping to her knees before the toilet, lifting the seat, and emptying her belly into the ceramic basin.

Karyn glanced briefly at Cindy bent over the commode but then finished brushing her teeth. She was a pretty African-American with shoulder-length dark brown hair, a moderate bust, and of average height. Karyn wore nothing save for the towel around her waist.

"Well," Maggie said as she stood beside of Karyn and sympathetically watched Cindy with her head in the toilet, "I guess that answers my question." Then, she turned back to Karyn and said, "don't forget: we've got rehearsals today at 2 o'clock."

"Yeah, well," Karyn said, turning to face Maggie, "the Boss Lady and I are meeting with the Yacht Club today at 1 o'clock. They want us to host some charity golf tournament they want to do. So, we might be late for practice."

"Okay," Maggie told the shorter woman. Then, the tall white woman leaned over and lightly kissed the shorter black woman on the lips. She said, "then, give Cindy a kiss for me, and I'll see you in a couple of hours - more or less."

"Okay," said Karyn and returned Maggie's kiss. Then, Maggie walked on down the hall as Cindy flushed the toilet. Karyn turned back to Cindy and found the smaller woman sitting on the commode. Karyn grabbed a washcloth off a shelf. She wet the washcloth and handed it to Cindy.

"Don't worry about it," Karyn said after Cindy mumbled her thanks. "You're just the latest to get sick this morning. For some reason, we all woke up feeling sick as dogs. I only hope that it was too much partying and not morning sickness. You have been using protection, lately, haven't you, Cindy?"

"Yeah, always," Cindy said glumly as she washed her face. She'd been taking her birth control pills. And though she couldn't quite recollect all of last night, she did remember her client (Dr. Clint/Clit?) putting on a condom. In fact, she seems to remember him "double-bagging" it. Suddenly, she felt a cramp and her belly emptied through the other end.

"Me, too," Karyn said, wincing as Cindy's bowels opened up, "and Maggie as well. Still, I think I'll make a doctor's appointment for all three of us."

Karyn was a den mother, always protecting her cubs. Maggie was a cheerleader, Karyn was a den mother, and Cindy was a...whore. That's all she felt like at the moment: just a shitty little whore.

"Well, I need to get dressed, and you need to...freshen up. So, I'll see you in a few minutes." Then, Karyn exited the bathroom and pulled the door closed behind her.

Well over thirty minutes later, Cindy plodded into the "parlor" - what the girls called the living room. Karyn was sitting on the loveseat, watching television. Cindy was wearing her pajamas: a white, oversized, man's dress shirt and white panties. Karyn was wearing a navy-blue skirted business suit. Cindy plopped down on the loveseat next to Karyn.

"How are you feeling, sweetie," Karyn said as she turned her attention away from the television to Cindy. On the television was the "TV1 12 o'Clock Report."

"Better," Cindy said with a weak smile. She was feeling better about herself. She was starting to feel less like a slut and more like a trollop.

"Hey, it's like I said, we all went through it this morning. Whatever it was, it only lasts about an hour, and then you're back to your old self," Karyn said. "Anyway, Ms. Jacqui said that our client, Mr. Clint, was very pleased with our performances."

Karyn handed Cindy an envelope. Inside the envelope was a $100 bill and three pictures taken with an instant camera. "That's yours," she explained. "It's a bonus, we each got one."

Though grateful for the added cash, Cindy was more interested in the photos. All three pictures showed some man - Mr. Clint? - fucking Cindy and her two housemates here on some boat. No, it was a ship. That's right, the guy had a yacht, Cindy remembered.

The first showed the guy's hairy ass as he stuffed his condom-covered cock in Maggie's ass while Cindy frigged Maggie's cunt and Karyn reamed the guy's ass. The second showed Karyn and Maggie kissing while Karyn sat on the dude's face, Maggie sat on his lap, and Cindy sucked on Maggie's massive boobs. The third picture showed Cindy squatting over the man's dick while Karyn stuck a vibrator up Cindy's ass, and Maggie squatted over his face.

"I thought his name was Dr. Clint?" Cindy asked as she studied the pictures. What Cindy finally noticed was that the pictures did not show the guys face, at least not clearly. Also, if the four of them were all in the pictures, then who the hell took it?

"Yeah, well, I thought he said his name was 'Mister' Black," Karyn said, studying what Cindy was wearing. "Anyway, I don't know if you heard, but Ms. Jacqui and I have a meeting with the Chamber of Commerce today in about half an hour. Then, we've got dance rehearsals an hour later."

"Today? I thought that the next rehearsals weren't scheduled until Friday," Cindy said.

"Today is Friday," Karyn said gently but firmly.

"Bullshit! What happened to Tuesday?" Cindy asked angrily.

"I wish I knew," Karyn said wistfully. "All I know for certain is that you called us up Wednesday night and begged us to join you and Mr./Dr. Whoever on his boat. Then, we partied and screwed until we somehow ended up here. At least, that's the way I remember it. However, my mind is still rather fuzzy."

"Shit!" Cindy said, in shock. "I remember meeting the dude Monday night and getting diddled by him. And, I'm starting to remember doing some of the things in these pictures. But, between Monday night and this morning it's all.... Shit!"

"I understand," Karyn said sympathetically.

"Anyway, I was trying to find out how hot it's supposed to be today," Karyn said, returning her attention to the television screen. On the screen, two handsome people sat behind the "TV1 News Desk." There was an impeccably dressed white guy with meticulously groomed blond hair, and a stylishly coiffed and fashionably dressed black chick. Each one had a wide smile plastered to their faces.

Chuck, the white dude was saying, "and in local news, the President has asked former state senator, Erin Walsh, to join his Violence Against Women task force." As Chuck spoke, the image of a sharply dressed middle-aged white woman appeared over his right shoulder.

Cindy took one look at the image and muttered, "Irish Waltz." Suddenly, she felt sick to her stomach again. She leapt up from the coach and ran back to the bathroom.

"Hey!" Karyn called after her. "Don't worry about rehearsals!. If I don't see you there, I'll just tell them you're still hung-over!"

"Many political observers, Chuck," Marcia, the black chick said, "think that the task force might be just the next level in Senator Walsh's quest for national office."

"I don't give a dawn about that bitch!" Karyn said angrily and flipped the channel. "I want to find out about the weather!"