Chapter 2: To Tell the Truth

“Alright, Bea. Let’s get started. You are correct, I am obliged to report, and you are required to provide us with a name.”

They went back-and-forth for a while, and finally Bea provided the identity of one of her classmates. Nurse Pollard didn’t know that Bea had randomly picked a name from an old sports story in the high school’s newspaper.

The next evening, Randy Coolidge was eating dinner with his mom, Jennifer, when the doorbell rang. They admitted two police officers, who explained that they had received a complaint about Randy. He readily agreed to answer their questions, making a positive impression. Jennifer was more cautious, insisting that questioning her son could only occur in her presence. The police asked where he was during the past ten days.

“I was at Grandpa’s farm, with Mom. We just got home last night.”

“Is this farm nearby?”

“No, it’s in Manitoba, in Canada. Altogether, three different flights took us back to here from up there. I still have the boarding passes in my phone if you want to check.”

After a few more days, the whole incident had blown over. Bea steadfastly refused to change her story or provide a different name. When the police returned for one more attempt to browbeat her, they left unsatisfied.

Lynn was relieved; she dreaded what might have happened in a confrontation between her volatile husband and the cops. She didn’t trust him to have any self-restraint.

A couple of weeks after the police concluded their fruitless investigation of Randy Coolidge, Dale was sitting at his computer and stubbing out his first post-dinner cigarette. Their bank’s web site was open in front of him, and he was scowling.

“We’re below the target for this month, Lynn. Friday, we’re going to the hotel. Make sure you’re ready.”

“Gary, no! Please! I was sore for a week after the last time.”

“Bitch! I wasn’t ASKING. You’re gonna wear that white gown, the negligent thing. And make sure to shave your pussy and hose out your ass.”

He swiveled back around and faced the screen, dismissing her while ignoring her tears. To supplement their income, he had created a site on an “Only Fans” type of service that specialized in bondage scenes. For months, he had been forcing her to appear in videos that showed her being abused and degraded by random men.

The whole enterprise made use of a run-down hotel where the participants could make noise without being disturbed. So long as these activities avoided the attention of medical or police authorities, the rooms were used for all kinds of kinky videos to be posted on the site.

Supposedly, the adults passing through the lobby were all consenting to their degradation. However, the lax enforcement meant many women were exploited without obtaining their meaningful consent. Women like Lynn. They rigorously checked IDs to ensure the presence of no underage persons.

Dale was aware that his own endowment was unlikely to attract a lot of revenue, so he spent his time behind a camera. An intense circular light surrounded the lens, illuminating every nook and cranny of Lynn’s pussy in pitiless detail. Another stationary camera covered the bed, too.

As the filming concluded, Lynn lay sprawled out on the bed, her abused holes oozing semen. The two men stepped away from the bed as Lynn, her arm over her eyes, sniffled.

The only small comfort for Lynn was that Dale had confirmed the two’s ages and health certificates, so she wasn’t at risk for disease.