Jungle Juice
Copyright© 2025 by Jo-Anne Wiley
Chapter 1
Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1 - INCLUDES TITLE ILLUSTRATION Detective Secco, posing as an actress, infiltrates a porn syndicate. But a last minute change of film location leaves her team scrambling to find her. Without backup, Sharon faces a dilemma... blow her cover and be left to rot in the jungle or get naked and perform for the men, in front of the cameras.
Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Reluctant Lesbian Heterosexual Rough Anal Sex Illustrated
“Look Zahra, you won’t be deported. We can protect you.”
Detective Jill Anderson sat across from a pretty, olive-skinned woman in Interrogation Room 6 and handed across a box of tissues.
“I want to trust you,” Zahra sobbed. “Really. But if they send me back, my brother-in-law will kill me. And my four-year-old as well. You don’t understand these things in America.”
“Okay.” Jill exhaled. “Let’s start there. With your brother-in-law ... why does he want to kill you.”
“Because of my mother.”
Jilly’s eyes lifted. “Your mother?”
Zahra held a tissue to the corner of an eye. “See? Already you don’t understand.”
“How about cutting me some slack. Try me.”
“Okay ... okay.” Zahra crumpled the tissue and reached for a second. “My mother tried to organize the village women, to protest the Government’s ban on education and equal opportunities for girls. Eight men came to the house. It was in the middle of the afternoon and they found my mother working in the garden.”
“Oh God.” Jilly tossed her pencil down. “I’ve read about the atrocities.”
“Yes. They beat my mother then used her, took turns with her, right there in front of her house. Then stood her on her box of garden-tools, under the tree my grandfather planted, and used a wire to bind her neck to the tree-trunk. They gathered the women of the village together, forced them to stand in the street to watch. For an hour the men gave speeches, condemning my mother as she stood naked and wired to the tree.”
“They couldn’t...” Jilly balled her eyes with thumb and forefinger.
“The men warned the women not to follow my mother’s example. Then one of the men kicked the toolbox out from under my mother’s feet. Her body hung from the tree for a week before a detail of trash-collectors came to haul her to the garbage dump. Now do you understand?”
“Give me a moment.” Jilly had moved forward in her chair, her face buried in her hands, her head rocked hopelessly. She took several deep breaths then picked up her pencil. “I apologize. You read of the horror but coming face-to-face with the abuse is ... unsettling. I’m sorry your mother faced such a brutal execution. But please, your brother-in-law?”
“Yes. It is called an honor killing. My husband’s household feels disgraced and they want to purge my bloodline from the family. That’s myself and my daughter. My husband’s brother was ordered to carry out the killings but I was warned. I took my little girl and we escaped. We starved on the streets for weeks before I was finally forced to seek help in a women’s shelter. An American came. He looked at me and told me he could arrange transportation ... to America.”
“And you took him up on his offer.”
“I had no other choice. He asked me if I would have a problem with the dance performance and I told him, for the sake of my daughter, I would overcome my fears. Then he asked me to bare my breasts. After I had opened my shirt, he touched me. He asked for a favor and I got to my knees and satisfied his request.”
“And the transportation?” Jilly asked.
“There were about a dozen women, some with young girls. We were herded into a shipping container, locked in like cattle. Twelve days later, we were off-loaded here, in New York.”
“And you began dancing at the Calico Cat strip club.”
“Yes. I was forced to do whatever the man said. Or face immigration authorities.”
“And the video?”
Zahra began to tremble. Then with a cry of defeat, she threw herself across the table. “I had to...” she sobbed.
“I’m sorry...” Jilly reached across to take the woman’s hand, “but I need to know.”
“Oh God. They wanted to make a movie.” Zahra buried her face in a tissue. “A movie of my little girl ... between my legs. Try explaining that to your four-year-old.”
Jilly sat in one of Sharon’s guest chairs. “Well, we got a victim, with names and locations...” Jilly shrugged.
“Okay.” Sharon Secco paused a moment. “But will she testify?”
“Not a chance in hell,” Jilly replied. “And you don’t want her to, anyway.”
“Explain.”
“Zahra has lived in fear of men all her life and a move to New York has not changed that. Zahra is scared to death, for herself, and for her child. Even if we got her on the stand, she’d crack under cross-examination. A defense attorney would pick her apart in a heartbeat and our case would be worst off because of it. She’s got information for us, but sorry, Zahar’s not your star witness.”
“Dammit.” Sharon wrung the back of her neck. “Okay. Call Social Services.”
Jilly’s eyes flashed. “That’s all we can do for her?”
“You can’t save the world, Detective.” Sharon turned to Tomasina Vencenze who was sitting in the opposite chair. “Suggestions?”
“I’d like permission to fly to the Middle East. There are few men that need to be strung up by the balls.”
Sharon shot Tommy a grim smile. “I’ll call Spencer at the CIA and see if he can spare Taz. But for us, this is a local problem and all we’ve got are the illicit porn tapes that Interpol intercepted in Amsterdam. And if it wasn’t for the fact some gofer at the film studio accidentally dropped his Calico Cat bar receipt into the shipping crate, we’d be none the wiser.”
“A surprise raid?” Tommy offered.
Sharon shook her head. “Easiest but the least effective way to gather the evidence we need. No matter how carefully we plan, word always leaks out.”
“So what do we have on the Calico Brothers?” Tommy asked.
Sharon turned to Miss Gates and pulled the keyboard close. “It’s common knowledge the brothers have connections to organized crime but their main interest is their strip club, The Calico Cat,” Sharon replied, tapping computer keys. “But they also maintain two massage studios, a questionable escort service and a production house that produces, if you can believe their sales blurb, corporate training videos. I think we can assume the training videos seized by Interpol originated in the Calico brothers’ production facility.”
“It’s one way to learn the ins-and-outs, ” Jilly quipped.
Tommy smiled. “There are better and more fun ways...”
“I wouldn’t know.” Jilly hunched a shoulder. “Now, here’s how I see it: The Calico Cat strip club acts as a recruiting center. Girls are coerced, or blackmailed, into performing nude on The Calico Cat stage. The brothers assess the merits of each dancer and the most attractive, the most energetic, and the most desperate are moved over to other business interests where the girls become more profitable.”
“Go on...” Sharon encouraged the young detective.
“Well the physically fit girls end up providing erotic, full-body massage. The girls who are personable and can make interesting small-talk end up as escorts, ones who are easily persuaded to wrinkle the bed sheets ... and who are there in the morning to provide a wake-up call. The photogenic girls end up making training films. Ones with an adult theme.”
“And Zahra is photogenic...” Sharon pointed out. “Dark and sultry.”
“Yes,” Jilly replied, “but you should see her four-year-old. Angelic child, cute as a new-born bunny. It’s easy to see why the Calico brothers recruited her. She has a look of innocence and vulnerability that would attract anyone who delves into kiddie porn. And teamed with her mother ... well the video is worth pure gold.”
“Okay. So where do we go from here?”
Tommy looked up from her yellow pad. “I think Jilly’s right. The Calico Cat is a hub that supplies girls for prostitution, massage, nude modeling and for roles in porn videos. We have to tackle this from the inside. One of us has to infiltrate the Calico brother’s organization.”
“You mean one of us has to apply for a job at The Calico Cat?” Jilly asked.
“Sure. Why not?”
“Sheesh...” Jilly sat back. “The fact the girls perform in the nude carries no significance for you?”
Sharon looked doubtful. “Okay. That aside, which one of us would be prepared to get her hands dirty? Tommy ... your hulking bod would be made the moment you walked into the Club. Every pip in the City can spot you two blocks away. And Jilly, sorry sweetie, but you’re too friggin’ skinny. The boys may find you cute but you’re definitely not stripper material.”
“Thank God.” Jilly glanced over at Tommy, who in turn glanced at Sharon.
“Mathematically speaking...” Tommy began.
“Oh n-no,” Sharon sputtered. “I can’t dance to save my life.”
“No one is going to give a fuck about your dancing.” Tommy cracked a dirty smirk. “And besides, you’re our only bitchin’ blonde.”
“Bitchin’?”
“A figure of speech. But a blonde stands a better chance of moving up the ladder ... to porn-star status.”
“I see...”
“Think of the doors this will open for you ... Sharon Secco ... police detective by day ... porno-queen by night. The possibilities are endless. Man, something like this doesn’t come along everyday.”
“Up yours,” Sharon shot back.
“Hold on. Wait a minute,” Jilly said, standing between the two. “No one said you had to audition to be a stripper. You can sling beer, can’t you? Dress sexy, sure. But apply as a bartender. With your legs, they’d be crazy not to hire you.”
Sharon thought a moment. “Okay ... okay...” She pushed her computer keyboard back across the desk. “I’ll go shopping for a new skirt and give it a shot. Happy?”
“Atta girl ... and just in case,” Tommy grinned, “better start working-up a dance routine. They’ll have you outta your clothes inside of a week. And don’t forget to call ... if you need us.”
Sharon sat in her car opposite The Calico Cat and struggled with her devotion to the job. The short skirt she wore showed off the pooch in her white underpants every time she moved, or so it seemed, and she had to resist the nagging temptation to keep pulling at the hem.
On a square-inch by square-inch basis, it was the most expensive skirt she owned but Tommy had picked it out and insisted it was right for her little white ass.
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