Chapter 19: Waffles and Ninjas

Riley liked to trail her fingers against the pale green tiles lining the hallway walls whenever they visited Dad, but Mom had always told her to stop when she noticed. She was too young to realize that those walls were probably filthy and crawling with germs, and that the germs in a public facility like this could be dangerous. All she knew is that mom was always there and was always telling her “No,” “Stop that,” or “Don’t.” She didn’t get to see Dad as much, but whenever she did, he always had nicer things to say.

Dana jerked her along at a brisk pace, Riley trying to keep pace with her short stumpy legs. They passed through the grey arches while the nice man took Mommy’s bags from her, and then were admitted into the room with the long tables when the man hit the buzzing button that unlocked the door. That man had let Riley hit the button once before when they visited to make the loud noise, but another man had yelled at him for it and he never did again.

Inside was Dad, wearing his orange outfit again. He always seemed to be wearing it when they visited. It must have been his favorite. As usual, his smile lit up radiantly when he saw her.

“Oh Riley, gosh you’ve grown.” He held his arms out toward her. “Come and give your daddy a hug.” Dana relaxed her grip and little Riley toddled over as fast as she could. She leapt into his embrace, giggling against his tickles.

“I can count to twenty, Dad!” Her father gasped.

“You can? That’s just amazeballs!” He balanced her on the bench next to him at arm’s length. She loved when he made up words. He was always so funny. Dana took a seat across from them.

“We really can’t keep doing this, Harry. The drive takes forever and she can’t keep missing school.” Harry spoke only to Riley.

“School?” he said. “She’s fine! She just said that she could count to twenty. Mommy must have cotton balls stuck in her ears or something, huh?”

“Yeah!” Riley said with a little jump.

“Please Harry, this is important. I have far too many things to take care of back at the office, and it’s not like you left us in the best position. There was another wave of layoffs, and I feel like my team might be next. The offer from California is still on the table...”

“Absolutely not!” Harry said, suddenly serious. He rounded on Dana with an alarming intensity. It dissipated quickly as he slowly turned back to his little girl. “If you went to California, I’d never get to see my little Princess Rileypoo.” Riley giggled again.

“That’s not my name, daddy.”

“You’re not the only one with problems, Harry. The whole world doesn’t stop just because you decided it might be fun to do lines of coke off a stripper’s tits.” Harry dropped his facade and reached forward to cup Riley’s ears so she couldn’t hear.

“Jesus, Dana. Not around her. Have you no heart?”

“NO HEART!” The guards turned towards her shout but she calmly adjusted her hair and assured them that it was alright. “How dare you. You’re the one who cheated on me, and you’re the one in jail. And don’t think for one second that I don’t know about the videos...” She shook her head at him. “Know this, Harry. As soon as our business is concluded, I’m taking that job and Riley is coming with me. I can barely believe I haven’t left already.”

“You haven’t left because you care about our daughter.” He turned back to Riley and smiled warmly. She giggled again. “You know that our daughter can’t grow up without her father.” He faced Dana squarely. “And because you know that I’d stop you.” Dana fidgeted under the table and took a deep breath.

“She needs better opportunities, Harry. She needs to be around other kids. The neighbors shun me, because of you. It’s not fair that she suffers. She needs to get away from all this.”

“The neighbors shun you because they know what you used to do for a living,” he countered. “You’ve done this to yourself. A whore is a whore, Dana. The neighbors know it and so do the courts, so just remember that whenever you think of taking my baby away from me.” He released Riley’s ears and she bounced on her heels. “Besides, Riley doesn’t want to go anywhere, does she?”

“No!” Riley yelled.

“Don’t be like this, Harry. Her scores are so high. She could be a doctor or an engineer, but not growing up around here.”

“A Doctor? An engineer? Mommy is funny, isn’t she?”

“Yeah!”

Harry kept his eyes on her. “She doesn’t seem to realize that Riley already knows what she’s going to do with her life.”

“I’m gonna be a princess!” Riley yelled. Her father smiled at her.

“Of course you will baby. Of course you will.”

The room faded. Her father’s face changed before her eyes. Suddenly his laugh lines were deeper, his crow’s feet a bit more distinguished. He was still handsome - he’d always been handsome - but it was years later. He was not the same man, and Riley was no longer a little girl.

She was in her king-sized bed in her room in California. Lexi dozed restfully on her right and Katie was curled into a ball on her left. On top of her was her father, his stinking breath full of the sweet rot of bourbon. Riley’s eyes flew open in a panic.

She tried to push him off of her but found her wrists manacled to the bed-frame. She tried to scream but found her throat full of dust. She coughed up mouthfuls of the stuff but there seemed no end. She shook, trying to wake Lexi and Katie but they only turned their backs to her. And then, he was inside of her, tendrils of ice snaking down her legs.

She screamed with no sound but as she faced her assaulter, she saw not her father, but Derek instead. “A whore is a whore,” he sneered. His face was twisted and contorted in fury and loathing and his eyes had no white to them, just a blackness that seemed to chill her blood. “It’s all you’ll ever be.” He felt like an icicle inside of her, and with each thrust, the cold seeped even further into her.

Riley tried to struggle away and turned to see Lexi now chained to the mattress beside her. There were no wrist cuffs or leather straps upon her wrists. No, she was bound in the kind of iron used for towing. Big, heavy links squeezed Lexi’s arms and spiraled down her torso, digging deeply into her soft skin. There was an IV in each arm that led to liquid-filled bags suspended above her. Riley focused on the dripping, dripping, dripping.

Katie cried out. Riley’s vision whirled as she tore her eyes away from the drugs to see this new horror. “A whore is a whore.” Ben, one eye blackened and bruised, was strangling Katie with his hands. It wasn’t the Ben she knew. His face was creased, dirty, and weather-beaten. The vitality and spark that had made him fun and attractive was gone. He seemed older and used up like he had spent years on street corners, doling out blowjobs for meth. Impossibly, she knew that this had happened.

As she watched, another figure came into view. A shadow of a woman stood behind the spectacle, watching with the cold complacent stare of someone shut out from the world around them. Bridget had track marks running down both arms, and her entire body had taken upon the grey, sunken, skeletal appearance of the malnourished. Even so, there was a disgusting pouch of flesh hanging past her waist-line and her breasts were now sagging and covered in bruises and skin tags.

She knew that Bridget had spent her life fucking for money. She knew that the life had taken her youth, her health, and even her baby. She somehow knew that Bridget had been abused, had been raped, and had been beaten over a long torturous life on the streets. And she knew, somehow knew, that it was all because of her.

“A WHORE IS A WHORE!”

Riley shot up in bed, her hair matted to her forehead in a cold sweat. She was breathing as if she’d just sprinted a mile, and the mattress and pillow underneath her were damp. She took a moment to let her breath return. She was accustomed to having night terrors, but it had been a long time since the last one, and she’d hoped that they were gone for good. She’d hoped in vain.

Lexi was still dozing beside her. She had no needles in her arms and she wasn’t trapped underneath any chains. Riley watched her for a moment, trying to forget the dream. She had the comforter pulled up and tucked underneath her chin, and Riley watched the slow rise and fall of her breathing underneath the mound of covers.

Lexi’d probably needed her rest after fucking Katie silly for two hours. Riley had found them in the room where they filmed step-daddy porn, and had been drawn there by Katie’s impressively loud passionate screaming. When she opened the door and saw what was going on, she hadn’t been sure whether to laugh or scream herself. Lexi had discovered the strap-on harness from the closet and looked like she was finishing what she started earlier with Katie’s ass. As for Katie herself. Well...

Riley turned to her other side.

The bodysuit was tight, even with Katie’s diminutive size-four proportions, but discomfort was usually the least of one’s concerns when wrapped in black plastic bondage gear.

Her gimp suit was a horror story amalgamation of leather, zippers, lace, and rubbery plastic. It stretched around her curves more snugly than OJ’s Isotoners, and the zippers and ties made round bubbles out of her assets, squeezed into an impossible shapeliness that made her look like Samus Aran - the new hot one, not the old armored one.

There were two areas laid bare by the outfit. There was a sizeable slice from pussy to asscrack, holes large enough to accomodate any girth, and it also had silver-dollar sized cutouts where Katie’s perky nips peeked through.

Katie was lying on top of the covers, so totally and unequivocally fucked that she couldn’t even undress before collapsing into sleep. She’d had a rough night. Lexi and Riley both agreed that there was something twisted yet incredibly enjoyable about plowing the tiny little spinner. Lexi and Riley got each other off once before they went to sleep. But together, they managed to get Katie off at least a dozen times. She snored softly through the zipper mouth of her facemask, happy as a clam.

She shook her head clear. All of that now seemed tainted. All of it disgusting. She rose from the bed, thinking about the dream.

She took up a blanket and wrapped it neatly around her shoulders as she sat down at her desk. She didn’t know what any of it really meant or even if dreams truly had any meaning but she felt terrible, afflicted by a crushing sense of guilt. She was unsure what to make of that. She hadn’t done anything wrong, had she? And why was the shit with Dad coming back to haunt her? She’d gotten away from him three years ago and hadn’t looked back. She wasn’t sure why she was thinking of him now.

She turned to her laptop and flipped it on. Her email was opened up to the offer details from Victor, and the she loaded up the script that he’d penned for them. After a few lines, she became convinced that it was sufficiently awful. She started poking around, correcting a few typos, fixing a few punctuation mistakes. And then it occurred to her.

Taking one more look at the beauties splayed across her mattress, Riley cracked her knuckles and faced the script once more. She just hoped she had enough time before morning.

Shortly after sunrise, Harry Princep walked into the kitchen of the big house at Greymonte. He’d been living in the guest house by the grace of his patron but was allowed to enter the master’s private dwelling to utilize the main kitchen and to discuss business. On this particular Tuesday morning, Harry intended to do both.

As usual, Victor was already there, seated upon a stool at the bar, the business section of The Times in one hand, and a steaming mug of Moroccan coffee in the other. “G’morning, Harry. Glad you’re up.” Without looking, he pointed to the seat across from him. “Been meaning to talk to you. Grab some breakfast.” Three TV’s, arranged triangularly, graced the opposite wall.

International news and current stock prices flowed across the bottom two sets, as pretty anchors talked about the latest political blunders and the most recent bombing that would upset share prices. Harry walked to the buffet and began to smear strawberry jam across a raisin-studded bagel. He also poured himself a cup of Joe. He’d need the extra pep for the show later. Victor finished his article and hazarded a glance at the top television.

On the top was a live feed to sixteen of Victor’s forty security cameras. Being able to see most of his compound at a glance gave him a feeling of control in an increasingly chaotic world. It was also often necessary to monitor comings and goings, given the “illegal” nature of some of his interests. Many of his guests had similar inclinations.

“I wanted to talk to you as well,” Harry said. “I have someone coming over this morning. It’s nothing to do with our collaborative productions, just a little passion project I have on the side.”

Victor looked back down at his paper. “That’s fine, of course,” he said. “You know you don’t need my permission to have guests over.”

“Yes, I know,” Harry replied, “but I’d prefer complete privacy with this girl if it’s not asking too much. It’s the first shoot for her, and I think she’ll be nervous enough when she sees the size of this place.”

“Say no more, Harry. I realize that artists need to do things their way. Where were you planning to film?”

“The Roosevelt building. We would prefer there be no interruptions. Will you alert your staff?”

“Certainly. I’ll let security know.” Victor took a drink from his brew. “Coincidentally, I also have guests arriving this morning. I trust you will be equally accommodating?”

“Of course, Victor. It’s the least I can do for your generosity. You’re hosting them here, in the main building?”

“Quite,” Victor said. “I’m not sure how long our business will take, but I’d also appreciate no disturbances until the evening. I will notify you when it is complete. Dinner afterwards?”

Harry nodded. “My business should be complete by then.” He walked toward the exit with his bagel and coffee. Bridget was supposed to arrive within the hour. “Toodle-oo.”

She’d been fine most of the drive there, but as the gate to Greymonte swung open in front of her borrowed black sedan, Bridget promptly began to panic. Twenty-five grand apiece, she thought. Just focus on the money. When she didn’t pull forward fast enough, she heard Dana’s voice crackling through the vehicle’s intercom.

“You’re safe,” Dana’s disembodied voice told her. “There’s nothing to be worried about. Stick to the plan and you’ll be fine.” Before last night, a forceful tone like Dana’s would have annoyed her, but now she felt bolstered by it. She felt a warm gooey sense of calm suffuse her body at the older woman’s controlled voice. She didn’t know what to make of that, but then she didn’t know what to make of anything that had happened last night.

It all felt hazy now, like it hadn’t really happened. Only the numb ache between her legs and the burned-out muscles of her thighs and butt told the truth. Dana hadn’t been lying when she told Bee that she was taking her to her bedroom to “apologize” and Bridget had spent every waking minute since then moaning, whimpering, screaming, and shouting her apologies as she was whipped, ridden, shocked, licked, fingered, and ultimately fucked through several hours of orgasmic glory.

Dana had beaten her ass till it glowed red as promised, and then Bridget simply complied with whatever sexual degradation awaited her. It just felt so good to say “yes.” She’d been eaten out till she could no longer assemble sentences. She’d been fucked nearly unconscious by ANOTHER huge plastic strap-on that Dana seemed to keep in every room of the house. She’d had her nipples and pussy lips shocked, prodded, and manipulated by various machines. And most recently, she’d been chained onto a Sybian at max power for a full thirty minutes while Dana left to go get her morning coffee.

When she eventually did return, Bridget was a drooling, muttering mess and Dana had to practically drag her across the hall for a bath. Then, after everything, she’d told her about the plan while she clinically gave her a waxing and did her makeup. Dana insisted, using sweet-smelling lotions and balms from the gift basket.

“Move, Bridget!” The voice snapped Bee out of her revery. She blinked a few times and hit the gas pedal, climbing the windy path up the hill toward the complex. The paved road was surrounded by trees on all sides, like a small nature preserve ringing a stately set of tall buildings and a central mansion. Dana had briefed her about the complex using Google Maps.

When she reached the crest of the rise, she slowed. The mansion looked much larger in person. Several buildings stood off to either side of it, around the central fountain. Some appeared administrative and other seemed like antiques. She couldn’t help but wonder how this “Victor” had amassed such extravagant wealth.

It wasn’t long before she spotted him. He was waiting for her. She followed the driveway up to the main fountain and around the loop to where he stood, drinking his morning coffee. Even after everything she’d been told, it was hard to see him as the drug-peddling rapist that he apparently was.

He smiled at her and ambled toward the vehicle, offering his hand as she exited the car. Yesterday, the kind gesture would have made her blush. Today it terrified her. Twenty-five thousand dollars, Bee ... Cars, clothes, parties, fame... “Man oh man,” he said, helping her out of the car. He kissed her fingers before making her twirl for him. “Bridget baby, you look stunning today.”

She knew she looked stunning. Her breasts were pushed up and out by an exhorbitantly expensive barely-there bra that Dana had gifted her with the basket, and the tight strapless dress she wore drew attention to her curves rather than hide them. It was from Dana’s own collection. She found it curious how much special treatment the woman was lavishing on her, but she wasn’t about to turn down a thousand dollar dress with matching lingerie. She wasn’t that strong.

After making her twirl, he pulled her close and kissed her, and her heartbeat started racing as he felt his hands touching her everywhere. His caresses, meant to seem tender, only heightened her anxiety now. She even felt a pang of fear when he squeezed her ass. The presumption that he could be so sexual toward her put her off, but then she did tackle him and fuck him on the neighbor’s lawn a few days ago. But so much had happened since then...

Ready to be famous?” he asked.

She forced a laugh and stepped back, trying to compose herself. Her head was starting to kill her. She may have looked fantastic but she could barely think straight. She just said what she’d been told to say.

“Wow Georgio. This place is insane.” She shielded her eyes from the sun while turning towards the huge mansion across the way. “Are we going to be shooting there? In that?” Georgio laughed softly and smiled meekly at her.

“Unfortunately no,” he said. “A friend of mine owns this place, but he lets me shoot here. Today, we’ll actually be shooting over there.” He pointed to a smaller red-brick building about the size of a middle-class home. “It’s called the Roosevelt Building.”

“The Roosevelt Building,” Bridget repeated loudly before closing her door. “Sounds classy.”

“Well, you know me,” he said, beginning to walk away from the vehicle. “I’m a classy guy.” He produced a joint and took a puff before handing it to her. “Smoke?” Bridget eyed it warily. She knew she shouldn’t but knew that he would find her refusal odd. Her nerves were fried as well and her headache was pounding. Fuck it, I’ll quit for real tomorrow.

She took it from him and took a pull. Then, remembering what she had to do, she took another pull, a much stronger one. It made her cough, and it tasted differently than the other stuff she’d smoked.

“What ... what is that?” she said, handing it back to him. She noted that he didn’t take another hit, but rather pinched it out and put it back in his pocket. Oh Jesus ... what did I just smoke?

“Just a different strain,” he said. “C’mon, crew’s already inside setting up,” he said. “Allow me to give you a tour.”

He put his arm around Bee’s waist and began strolling towards the Roosevelt building, speaking amiably. Bridget smiled in return but started to feel like her limbs were becoming heavier with each step. She was probably just fatigued after being vaginally assaulted all night long. She only started to worry when her vision started dancing.

Just before they entered, Bridget reached into her purse. She clandestinely fumbled around for what she was looking for and silently pressed the small button on top of the keyfob. Across the yard, the trunk of the black car popped open just a crack.

Derek slithered out of the trunk and onto the ground like a shadow, before closing it softly behind him. A few seconds later, he was already across the yard and hidden amidst the woods ringing Victor’s property. He was covered in trefoil camouflage head-to-toe and seemed to melt into the forest when he crossed over the tree line. He spoke into his ninja mask and started to jog.

“Ambi-turner to Zoolander, come in over.”

“Team Zoolander on-site, in position and looking fabulous, over.”

“Copy.”

Derek increased his pace once he was sure no one was around to hear the commotion. The woods on Victor’s property were by no means expansive, but he still had a good half-mile of old growth to push through before he got to where he needed to be. He saw it through the trees as he got closer. The trees and brush ended in a sharp, steep drop-off into nothing.

Victor’s property was surrounded by a tall electrified chain-link fence topped with concertina wire. On this side however, there was nothing but a cliff. He likely surmised that a sheer thirty-foot drop-off was enough to deter most prospective invaders, but he surmised fucking wrong. Derek quickly shucked off the loop of nylon cord around his shoulder and began to fasten it to the largest nearby tree. Then he cautiously approached the drop and peered over.

At the base of the hill, on a rarely used dirt path, sat Drew’s pink convertible. Three figures sat upon the hood wearing similar camouflage ninja suits, looking up. One waved. Derek tossed down the rest of the uncoiled rope. One by one, the three characters started ascending. Derek and his crew may have been gorgeous well-manicured pretty boys, but they were also in prime physical condition. The film Zoolander had been right in predicting that they would make perfect assassins. But why male models?

Drew was the first to reach the top. As he cleared the ledge, Derek realized that he wasn’t wrapped in Trefoil camo, but rather orange on black tiger stripes.

“Honestly dude, this is serious.” Derek shook his head at him. “We’re not in fucking Siberia.”

“I know this is serious,” Drew replied. “I’m frankly surprised that you even wanted to bring me along.” He relaxed against a nearby tree. “By the way, when we get a second, you’ll never guess who I’ve been banging.”

“Quiet,” Derek said. “Tell me later.” He bent to help Juice clear the top, as he was seriously struggling. The giant Mexican was well-muscled but heavy. Thirty feet of knotted rope almost did him in. Once he was clear, the third figure practically leapt onto the top, immediately behind him. Derek frowned at her, despite how fine she looked in her clingy camo tights.

Dana had wanted to come along from the start, but Derek didn’t want her personal issues clouding the situation even more than his personal issues already were. He surmised that lowering a rope instead of a ladder would force Dana to abandon the idea. But he, also, had surmised fucking wrong. Dana was apparently strong as fuck.

“Do you do crossfit or something?” he asked, peering down at the rope she just made her bitch. Dana just crossed her arms across her bosom. Derek hadn’t seen her in such suggestive dress in a long time and had to admit that he was as turned on as he was impressed. “That’s a hell of a climb.”

“Don’t be such a pussy, Derek,” she said, giving his sack a little slap as she walked past him. He grunted at the pain, but had to suppress a smile. “It’s just a little rope.”

He’d always had a thing for tough chicks. But he also had a thing for confidence, and most of his fervor the night before had been due to Dana’s bossiness, rather than Bridget’s admittedly sexy advances. But he knew from experience that messing with Dana was playing with fire, and he’d already been burned too many times. Satisfied that everyone was assembled and ready, he turned back to the complex.

“Alright guys,” he said. “Time to execute Operation Blue Steel. Switch to channel six.”

“Blue Steel?” Drew pouted. “Are we not calling it Order 66 anymore?”

“I overruled it,” Juice said. “Nobody gives a shit about your wimpy Star Wars bullshit.”

“Was there a fucking vote or something? How’d I miss that?”

“I have seniority,” Juice said. “Besides, this is more in fitting with the theme.”

“The theme?” Drew scoffed. “What are you? Fucking Hemingway, now?”

Juice shook his head. “I prefer Dickens. Also, fuck you.”

Dana raised her hands. “Shut up, both of you.” She walked past them and peered into the woods. Past the tree-line, she could just see the guard shack. Across the way from that, she also noted two armed security officers walking a German shephard. Fucking dogs ... God daaaaaamnit...

“In the interests of being honest with ourselves, let’s just call this what it is.” She turned back to Derek. “Operation: Axe my ex.” Her eyes narrowed above her ninja mask. “Whenever you’re ready, team leader.”

A trumpet fanfare sounded as the assembled military throngs on either side saluted us. We strode down the center aisle proudly, looking super fancy. I smiled at the characters to my left and right. I didn’t remember Han and Chewy being privy to the sex-battle with Babs but because dreams never make any sense, I simply smiled. John Williams’ award-winning score echoed off the walls, celebrating my victory.

It took me a second to figure out where I was. It was the final scene of Star Wars, and if memory served, I was about to be presented with my medal for blowing up the Death Star, or Babs’ pussy as it were. We walked the rest of the way but instead of Princess Leia standing on the dais, Babs stood before us, wearing Leia’s golden bikini like a second skin. Her tits were way better than Carrie Fisher’s, and that’s saying a lot. She raised her hands to quiet the assembled masses and spoke clearly.

“Heroes of the Rebel Alliance, on this day, Ben has defeated me in the battle of sexes...” I waited. “ ... and also saved the universe from the clutches of the empire.” I nodded in self-righteous glory. As if there was any doubt... She reached backwards and unlocked her metal brassiere. It felt to the floor with two loud clunks. “Now prepare to receive a hero’s reward.”

She leaned forward, tits full and glistening wet for some reason, and then she grabbed ... Chewy. Just grabbed him by his chest fur and pulled him into a passionate kiss. Then she opened her mouth and got her tongue in there, too. I mean, I was happy that Chewy was finally getting his due after getting shafted at the end of A New Hope, but this was like watching my mom french a shag carpet or like a bipedal terrier or something. I gave Han a “wtf” look and he just shrugged at me.

“He gets all the ladies,” Han said. “Fucking wookies.” I chuckled and started to open my eyes.

I was awakened by my Queen.

... and I’m not trying to be cute by referring to Babs and all that hero business earlier. I was literally awakened by my copy of Queen’s We Are The Champions booming out of my living room speakers.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and realized that I’d passed out on the couch. I didn’t even remember falling asleep, but there was a pillow beneath my head and blanket around my shoulders. But that must have meant that someone had put them there after I’d drifted off ... And that must have meant...

I turned to the stereo to see Babs smiling down on me, both fists raised above her head in triumphant victory. It dawned on me. No ... NOOOOO! The expression of disbelief and shock that spread across my face must have been priceless, because she started laughing at the sight of it and bouncing on her heels. She was already fully dressed in tight little jeans shorts that probably belonged to her daughter and a scoop-neck turquoise tank top. She looked like my super-hot mother again, as opposed to the super-hot sex bunny I spent all night fucking.

Holy hell. I spent all night fucking Babs... I looked at my fully-clothed, responsible-looking guardian again. Just seeing her upright after ramming her up the ass for hours seemed impossible. She looked bright and energetic, and I could barely move my legs.

“You totally cheated,” I said. “You must have drugged me or something. I don’t even remember coming back inside.”