Chapter 24

The late hour didn’t stop the girls from unloading everything from the bus. Guns, dirty laundry, extra clothing, electronics, handbags, and assorted boxes, bags and bundles moved quickly along a bucket brigade of tired arms until Belinda drove away.

The Bright Stars had cleaned the bloody uniforms while we showered and munched. Ellie and Irina collected the remainders and started a washer. Beth, Amy and I headed straight to my office to send our own reports, documents and errata to the Feds, Levi, Mike, Norm and Ten Penny. For us, many promises and casual commitments during the long day made check list maintenance a tedious chore. Grunt work is easy if no one is shooting at you. Easier still if undressed girls surround you.

The others did whatever girls did after a Tuesday of running around in public naked, convincing other girls to strip off and stay naked, followed by dinner, urban warfare, more semi-nakedness, chocolate ice cream and a spy-revealing duel.

The expected auto responses arrived confirming receipt by the Feds, etc. Beth navigated to the Airwear pages, discovering a huge backlog of photos holding for the moderators’ approval. The incoming orders were through the roof. Eve and the Baxter twins had some production planning in their future. Moving the machinery from Hill House might become necessary just to simplify the supply lines.

I sent an email to Donna and Dina Evans to find out if their construction crew could handle the cut-throughs and minor modifications. The night owls at Roadie Magic said the crew could do masonry in their sleep and were ready to work tomorrow afternoon. Amy started the preliminary shopping list for the new space. The Marks Brothers were going to send their kids to college on our orders alone.

The school applications and transcripts could wait a day or two. I needed to finalize the Zephyr/Bingham-Hampton affiliation soon but that could also be delayed a day or so.

We made it to the fourth floor by 2:30, where Amy, Beth and I crashed in my room. I lasted long enough to set the alarm for 8:00 and departed the land of the sentient.

Three in a bed had grown to five when the buzzer intruded in the morning. Patty and Sam brought coffee and bacon, egg and cheese sandwiches. Angels roam the earth.

Aware of the world once again, caffeinated, showered and dressed for the boardroom, we were waiting in the lobby by 8:45 AM. Armed with laptops, floor plans and the three newly informed Z-Girls, Amy and I were out the door at 8:59 when the taxis arrived, disgorging a flurry of suits, briefcases and neckties. Albert, Monte, Glenn, Willis and a nervously hopeful seller with his attorney were ready for business.

Willoughby opened the doors and escorted us to the prepared conference table in the largest office. I noticed and activated the security cameras from the not so concealed controls located in a partially open cabinet. The light came on when the DVD recorder spun up. “Is this connected to the Internet?”

“No, Mr. Allyn. We wanted to have audio/visual records of our business dealings without exposing our clients and residents to hackers or possible personal information leaks.” Ellerbee answered quickly, glancing at the panel. “The only live camera is the one directly over this conference table. Is that a problem?”

“Not at all. It keeps all of us honest. Mostly, it helps my lovely and talented assistants review the last minute changes.”

‘Nervously hopeful’ translated to fear that the deal would fall apart we so I reassured the seller with a firm handshake and the session was on.

He handed me a disk with the abandoned renovation plans, permits, inspections, projected costs, etc. If I had to work with these numbers, I would have run away in panic, too. His contractors had seen the great big neon ‘SUCKER’ sign a mile away and were eating him alive. No wonder he wanted out.

To his credit, he had incorporated with his investors, but retained title to the property. All the contracts were void when the company dissolved and all the invoices for finished work were paid. As it stood, the building was legal for mixed use, debt free and ready to occupy.

An hour later, due diligence and details done, we signed a thousand dotted lines, I approved the money transfer, Glenn underwrote the insurance coverage, Beth notarized everything but my boxer shorts (Albert and Monte and forgotten that little necessity as predicted) and Willis paid Gonzales, Muniz, Aldridge their anticipated fees out of the balance. After taking his cut, Willis and I put the considerable leftover money into an account, controlled by Amy and Max as cosigners, for the renovation expenses.

The suits left by 11:30 to do the filings, pay the fees and taxes. By noon, I would officially own my fourth piece of New York City.

Willis opted out of the construction detail since two of the girls controlled the purse strings and the Evans sisters didn’t need a go-between dealing with us. A third party would just slow things down.

I put the Evans sisters in touch with my XO to get the deconstruction started. We decided to have Caralyn, Karen and the Tanners take design lead on our side. Whatever they wanted, I wanted. Beth and her sisters would provide CAD and legal tech support. Along those lines, I decided to get all my girls involved in the planning, design and execution of all areas of the new spaces and the repurposing of the current areas: performing and visual arts, athletics, humanities, applied and theoretical sciences, math and entertainment. It would give them pride of ownership and give me less to worry about.

“Girls, if we play this right and the timing is good, Roadie Magic can get the doors cut before the others know about the Annex. Beth, bring up both sets of plans.”

In minutes, we positioned the cut-throughs as close to the elevator shaft as possible, accounting for the existing walls and features in the original building. Amy called Dina and gave her the go-ahead, cautioning her to have the crew bring a metal detector.

The basement portal was to be as close to 20’ wide as possible without compromising the foundations. The first floor would have a simple two-door access. I wanted the passages on three and five to be as large as possible, spanning the whole bay between beams. By design or serendipity, the structural supports in both buildings coincided.

Serendipity is not in the building codes. It was cutting-edge design, not luck. The construction techniques evident in all my acquisitions anticipated the widespread use of ‘skyscraper’ era technologies where the steel skeleton carried the weight of the interior, not the stone outer skin.

Something that didn’t carry weight was any plan to get the remaining twenty-nine pairs of eyes out of the way. Belinda had the short bus in a body shop. The paint job was a mess. So much for having a ride.

Bright Star was back in heavy production mode. According to Laura, the Six Pennys (Belle, Blender, Shorty, Sioux, Rock and Coder) had been joined by Tamera and Nancy. The wives were working with the pack and ship operation, standing in for Mike and Norm, who were missing in action.

Rose told me to stay home. Fifteen people could get the job done. More would get in the way. “We’re telling regular customers the shop is closed for an extended Independence Day Holiday, but to expect normal scheduling the following week.”

Billings called with mixed reviews. “Please stay out of sight, thank you very much.” He laughed heartily. “You have kicked hornet’s nests worldwide. The Israelis are in a crazed frenzy, embarrassed and grateful for the information in the same sentence, of which there were many, more than I wanted to hear. That woman did a lot of damage. Now, the Mossad and Interpol are up to their ass in bees and our CIA station is trying not to be all ‘I told you so’ about it.”

He stopped laughing. “Outdoors, your girls are marginally safer than yesterday, but that’s not saying much. DHS, BATF, the DEA and FBI are active nationally, tracking leads. NYPD and the NY State CSIs are working overtime processing the ‘evidence’ collected last night. Atlanta, Charlotte and Boston are back to normal. Philadelphia is a still door to door, but the bad guys underestimated the locals. People who boo and hiss at Santa Claus and piss on visitors wearing the wrong baseball cap are poor targets for civil insurrection. Most won’t give up a parking space without a fight; forget about the Bill of Rights. What I’m saying is that more good guys are in the field, but the field is much bigger. So in your neighborhood, the coverage is about the same.”

“On the upside, there are fewer terrorists running around.” I commented. “But the ones left are quite annoyed. Add in the real Jihadists inconvenienced by the Consular reaction to Ms Steiner looking for revenge and the streets don’t seem so friendly.”

“I’m glad you understand. Keep your ears and eyes open, Mark. The other agencies whine about being overworked, but if everyone had been paying attention from the beginning, this wouldn’t be so bad. Try to act surprised when the newspaper headlines declare the joint SWAT readiness exercise a resounding success, etc.” He laughed again. “Our little dark corner of the government is looking really good today. Doyle Hounslow, not so much. That tiny Vietnamese girl paid my bar tabs for the next decade.”

“None of my girls suffer disrespect silently. The tall ones are garden variety terrifying. The short ones give nightmares the night sweats.” I advised seriously. “You will never see them pick a fight, but you will never see them back down, nor will you see them quit.”

Billings repeated the warning to stay indoors, “It is unusually strange in DC this morning. News outlets are beginning to digest the dribs and drabs of information. This aide subpoenaed, that district calling a special election, a senator and an evangelist involved with known White Separatist organizations, campaign finance audits, a few hundred missing persons and people ask questions.”

“It’s probably best to release the whole story, names redacted to protect imbedded agents, detailing the timeline. You have more than enough to justify the investigation without getting FISA warrants.” I was out on a limb and continued quickly. “Colonel, it is no secret the Feds keep an eye on known and suspected racist and militant organizations. Huge money transfers attract attention when the timing is suspicious.”

“Allyn, we need to delay disclosure until more loose ends are tied down. One little error on our part and the leaders escape.”

“Following any connection to missing weaponry, highjacked shipments and possible leads to higher ups is just sound procedure. One link takes you to another, arrest records and warrants are public. Probable cause generates itself, especially when bullets fly. Military, as in compromised inventories, investigations don’t require permission from civilian courts.” I suggested further, “Philly changed the rules, boss. You were reacting to a clear and unprovoked attack. As for what went before, the cop killers led to the ‘Committee’, to the Senator, etc. The shared information is the key. Everything is legal and aboveboard from there. You can release a plausible and accurate storyboard and cover most anything. Fill in gaps with undercover reports and anonymous tips. There can’t be many.”

I sent Patty to bring the other girls over for a tour and worked one timeline with the Colonel:

One of the analyst/consultants out to eat with some agency friends. Discovery of the drugged girl at the restaurant. Involving the police, leading to the child sex slave ring. The coincidental attack by mysterious military types.

Captured weapons, running numbers. Numbers match stolen guns. Attempted escape into a firefight on the Bowery. Determined on the spot to be some sort of invasion, not a law enforcement issue. Clearly not the regular police, too much live fire directed at bystanders. Too busy staying alive to ask questions, cell phones out in any case. Situation becomes dangerously fluid, unpredictable. Trapped, no reasonable answers, no choices. Surrender is suicide.

Agents react in self-defense until help arrives in the form of assets on furlough and more cops. New actors engage the hostile forces, proving the agents’ decisions correct. Indirectly leading to the crapstorm at the Israeli UN office. Turning the scene over to the locals. Statements taken, civilians allowed to leave. Consultant, working above his pay grade, unintentionally loses identities in the confusion when his cell phone recordings are compromised, protecting the innocent bystanders, etc., again.

“Once we decide to go public with our non-classified info, it meshes with the eye-witness accounts in Philadelphia, the reports out of One Police Plaza, the FBI interstate commerce theft files and the lists of associates of domestic terror and hate groups. This will work and keep the DHS critics off balance.” I could hear Billings grin. “They don’t expect honesty and fulfilling our primary mission using evidence in the public record confuses the doubters. Lesson number one in spook school: Using as much of the truth as possible is easier than remembering a lie.”

“The first rule in comedy is that timing is everything. Works for this unnamed imbedded source. Ask the questioners, ‘Remember the day the Space Needle exploded? No? You’re welcome.’ DHS talking heads could drop a hint or two about incidents quietly avoided that never made the press and the number of innocents at home with their families because someone who cares is covering their six.” I added. “All in a day’s work for the Clark Kents and Diana Princes of the world.”

“Talk to me later, after the midnight news cycle. If I have any problems, we’ll have speaks. In the meantime, Bruce Wayne, tell me this: Why did the TV Superman let bullets bounce off his chest, but ducked and dodged when the shooter threw the empty pistol?”

“Hell, Colonel. I still don’t understand why Wonder Woman didn’t have a more feminine name. Why not Princess or Queen?”

“Macho-chauvinistic comic book authors. You want sexism? Check out the earliest editions where she was subject to severe BDSM and half-clothed captivity. Damn censors!”

“On that note, I’m outta here. See you in the funny papers.”

The business with the Colonel completed, I checked in with the Evans sisters. Donna and Dina confirmed the arrival of their people at 2:00. “Cutting some holes in brick walls is nothing compared to renovating a whole nightclub in a couple of days. We even have a huge vacuum air cleaner to get rid of the silica dust. A little cement to finish the raw edges and you are good to go.”

“Two items, Donna. Cancel the flyers. It’s OK to distribute the posters, but we have attracted some very undesirable and dangerous attention. Doing sample give-aways will have to be guerilla style if we do it at all. The webpage is bringing in orders from all over the country already.” I resumed old business. “I know how I’ll find the missing equipment. We should have the answers by Friday. The accounting and inventory systems can go in as soon as we get together. One of these days we will have to trade invoices. I must owe a bunch of money to you folks.”

“And you have no idea how much we recovered, how much we are making on the costuming side and hardware sales are through the roof. With word of our security traveling by word of mouth, our own web sales are up 200% in the last week. The magic box is worth every penny we’ve spent on services to you guys.” She really laughed. “We’ve developed a vanity service in karaoke bars with video set-ups like the one in your basement. The ‘performers’ eagerly pay a premium price and get a DVD of their sessions. A few actually work the pole! It is not pretty. The rare time it is, they can’t sing. The poor suffering videographer, usually a member of a client band on an off night, gets a fourth, the house gets a fourth and we get the rest. It’s like stealing candy from tone-deaf children.”

“Just think of the nasty mail coming your way when the videos show up as demos in talent agent’s offices. But that’s actually good for you. The more rejections the wannabes get, the harder they try and the more DVDs you make. Vanity is a cruel and expensive beast.”

“It’s breaking my heart, Mark. Hope the tear drops don’t blur the deposit slips.” She said, “I’ll call tomorrow night and we can arrange something for Friday. Tootles.”

At that second the doors burst open and the room was swarming in naked and semi-clad beauties. Patty had changed into nothing but a chain belt and her collar. Beth, Amy and Sam, feeling overdressed, stripped to the cellophane Airwear panties worn to the meeting. Carol and Anne brought a cellophane half-halter for Beth, keeping the triplet vibe alive. All three added the belt and Amy fitted a spring clip to her left tit. Yielding to unspoken peer pressure, Emma and Nell, commando commandoes, wearing silver cellophane mini-skirts, were topless.

Everyone had her collar and S/S closure. Belt pendants were all W/S, as were the nipple ring clips.

Thirty-three girls. Some naked because they believed I wanted them naked. Yes. Some, because naked was the default state and unless I told them what to wear, they didn’t wear a thing. True. Some, because giving me peeks at their new bodies was a thrilling validation of their desirability. Absolutely. Some, because public exposure is an effective tool of discipline. Naughty girls must be punished. I was not one to spare the rod. Some naked because they thought it was expected. I did nothing to convince them otherwise.

Why make those sweet tight bodies less available?

Life was getting back to normal. “OK, my sweeties. Welcome to Amsterdam Annex. I’m having the two buildings combined into one great big house. What say we take a tour and see what we see?” I pointed to a space on the wall to the right of the elevator doors. “We plan to create a pass-through there. Follow me up the stairs and Beth can show you the proposed doorways. Amy, Sam and Patty can answer questions about the space-use.”

I gave the girls near total control over the decorations and furnishings on the levels dedicated to them and the studio facilities. Connecting floors would add to or expand existing features. The fourth floor would become the gymnasium and fitness zone. New offices, a performing arts theater, a larger study hall, art space and recreation center will be on the third and second, in the old space and new. The old group bedrooms will be a dressing room and costume shop, opening to the 6,000-ft² dorm and quiet zones.

“Everyone will be involved in every area to some extent. All of you have academics and fitness concerns. The dance studio and the gym will do double duty as a dojo or photo set or rehearsal stage or conservatory for music. Tastes and activities change, so keep that in mind when you make decisions. Leave room for expansion. Otherwise, it’s all yours.”

The very naked Leah and Jenny lingered as most of the others scattered in all directions. Leah dropped her shoulder bag and tugged at my buttons. “Out of the business clothes, Mark. We brought your daywear for today.” Jenny stated as they began to methodically strip me to my skin near the unlocked glass lobby doors. Tongues and fingers encouraged me to let them have their way. My gymnasts had me starkers in no time at all.

Leah used my rigid dick as a handle, leading me to the conference room. “This is going to be a big day for the family. We need to take your edge off. A whole building of firsts. Many cunts to break in. Many places to break in. This room, for instance.” She hopped onto the edge of the table, pulling my handle. “My little pussy needs company. Come to Mama, Mr. Cock.”

Jenny, behind me, pushed me closer to her friend. “Fuck her hard, Mark. We have our own edges to take off. I’m next.”

She shoved as Leah lined me up and I sank, balls deep in a tight, wet and steamy cunt. “Just like I remember.” I hissed. “A great cock wrapper. Show me what you got, Leah Martin, work that twat.” She fell back on the table when I pinched her nipples and went to another plane. Her cunt stayed right here, pulsing around my plunging shaft.

The edge she needed to take off was the lip of a giant abyss. With a soft cry and a violent loss of all body control, Leah’s overheated brain flew to pieces and sailed away. The rest of her body tried to take my prick with her on the trip. I wasn’t even close to my own climax and just kept pumping her into semi-consciousness.

I pulled Jenny around and placed her on top of the limp Leah, tit-to-tit, pussy-to-pussy. Perfect for a double fuck. Out of one clasping, quivering cunt, into the next. I slammed in to the hilt in one stroke and pounded Ms Daniels as hard as I could. Her soaking clit was forced against Leah’s, bringing both close to orgasm in seconds. My hands twisting and torturing four diamond hard nipples caused both girls to come, madly flopping all over the table.

I caught sight of Billi. Pointing to the table beside the entwined dancers, still humping their wet pussies together, using the voice, I commanded, “You. Naked. Here.” She responded instantly, a trail of liquid glistening down her inner thighs. I pulled out of Jenny, stepped to the side and was between the new girl’s legs in seconds.

She watched my swollen dickhead slowly part her virgin cuntlips and begin to stretch her open. “Hurry and get me past the part where it’s supposed to hurt. I want to get fucked now. They will never mistake me for a boy again.”

I split her maidenhead with ease, sliding into another fresh twat with a moan. “That was the hard part, Billi.” I pumped easy for a few cycles, allowing her canal to adjust to the invader. “This is good pussy, my tiny-titted beauty. Very good. It’s a crime to let it go to waste. All those idiots who passed it up will never know how fucking stupid they were. My cock is the only one you will ever have and it will be deep in you whenever I want to get it wet.”

I must have touched a strong fantasy somewhere, because she fell back on the table and let her body take charge. “Yes, Dr. Allyn. I’m yours forever. Use me like a cumdump. I’ll be your fuckdoll. Just keep doing this. So full, I’m going to burst!” And so on for the next ten minutes, during which a small crowd formed in the conference room. Eventually they all were attending the festivities.

Soon, Billi squealed loudly, locked around my rod and stopped breathing for several seconds. Nell, of all people, pushed her head to the center of our universe and tried to suck her clit off, then licked my pumping shaft, setting up a fantastic cycle of debauched pleasures.

With an astonished, huge-eyed expression flashing over her face, Billi Marks, the newly confirmed real life girl went utterly wild, inside and out. By the time she calmed down enough to be aware of the audience, they were applauding enthusiastically. “We never thought you would be the first one to take a hot dicking.” Maggie gushed. “Frieda and I figured you would shy away for years. Wow! That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen, even on the Internet.”

Billi started giggling. “Me, too. But I saw Dr. Allyn screw Jenny and Leah at the same time and have plenty to spare. He said it was criminal to let my pussy go to waste and great cock is exactly the same.” She giggled harder. “Good cunt is a renewable resource. Fucking like a two-dollar hooker is the ecologically responsible thing to do. And my first time was a three-way!”

“Not quite, tiny tits.” I effortlessly lifted Nell to the table, legs hanging over the edge. “Park your cunt on her mouth so she can suck my cum out.” Billi climbed onto Nell’s face and sat down. The 10d went to work and Billi began to play with her tits.

“Now I know why guys like tits. These are nice, a perfect size to play with. She has the reddest nips ever. I can’t wait to squeeze Kelli’s sweater puppies. They’re bigger than my head!”

“You’ll get your chance soon enough, cutie.” I spread Bullet’s legs and slotted my still rigid rod. “Ensign Nye is suffering from a bad case of virginity. I have the cure. The doctor is in her house.” Nell moaned into Billi’s pussy and I drove the nail home, her hymen having no chance against my raging cock.

My inner Viking came out and I pounded the hell out of her. “I’ve wanted to be in your pussy since we got you. Toon still has to take you for two walks on the leash everyday. But I will make a special effort to get you properly dicktrained and obedient, indoors and out. I love housebreaking a good pet like you.”

Another fantasy homerun. I’ll probably get invited to the Fucking All-Star game. Nell went every bit as feral as Billi, coming repeatedly and screaming like a banshee. The drippy twat sitting on her face muffled the volume somewhat, but the vibrations sent the girl wielding that twat into orbit.

Bullet’s hips rose and fell, trip hammer style, until she unsheathed my rod, dropped and reseated it in her ass. No warning, no respite, to the root, in one motion. I can only guess that it was like pouring gas on a flaming imaginary scenario, page three of the fantasy. If it hurt, Nell gave no indication. Well, maybe a little since she inhaled hard enough to turn Billi’s cunt inside out and pulled her down by her nipples until the tiny-titted girl’s tongue could lick the juncture of our bodies. But she never tried to pull off the pole up her butt. If anything, she drove it deeper.

Ms Marks, quick on the uptake, followed her tits and nibbled Nell’s clit as if she was starved, watching up close as my cock plunged in and out of her tight butthole. The sheer perverse nastiness of the moment caught up with me and I blasted a surprisingly thick injection into the 10d’s ass. Finally growing limp, I slid out and staggered back. “Successful cures number 24 and 25. Damn, that was fun.”

More applause.

Mika said firmly, “Master, we have to get you cleaned up.” The Tanners pulled me to the new showers, while Caralyn ran next door for towels. “Toon, please bring extras. Four of our sisters could stand to freshen up a bit, too.” Unconcerned with her naked body, she sped out the door.

“Nell, come with us.” Leah advised. “Your little butt will need some special treatment. The Doctor’s nurse practitioners have everything under control.” She and Jenny dragged her off to the toilet quickly. “The sooner, the better, sister.”

My little slave girls made quick work of me, too. Soon, dressed in black silk boxers that would pass for gym shorts or upscale loungewear and a loose fitting tank top, I joined the teeming, chattering mob.

I wandered up and down the stairs, enjoying the contagious girlish enthusiasm as they buzzed around the whole place in constantly changing groups. At 1:45, Amy corralled the naked girls and began to usher them next door. “Company is coming, so your definition of school-day street legal is the dress code for a few hours until the construction work is done.”

“OK for school’, as defined at liberal, permissive Bingham-Hampton Academy, left a lot of wiggle room. The chief administrator, Dr. Elizabeth Williamson, was a fierce advocate of free expression in all its forms, personal and artistic. The performing arts faculty, the few about which I knew, were very open and focused (and as exhibitionistic as any teenaged girl looking for an unavoidable excuse to be naked in public). Justine Abbott, the Drama Coach, Dance Mistress Yvonne Pierre and Audrey Beardsley, head of the Music Department, considered the human body to be an appropriate sensory instrument from which all interpretations flowed. I was looking forward to meeting the art teachers.

It took no stretch of the imagination to picture several of my girls, already naked in art, dance or coming out of the shower after PE, not bothering to get dressed before going to Algebra or English. “Better to get raised eyebrows than a late slip.”

On the other hand, the staff was equally fierce in the protection of the all-girl student body. They came down extremely hard on the video voyeurs and the porn web ring.

The completely naked girls (the Tanners, Ellie, Caralyn, Eve, Patty, Lulu, and Diane), knowing they shouldn’t be absolutely naked at Bingham-Hampton without a legitimate, or at least mildly plausible, reason, dashed out the door, agreeing on skirts and middies for Lulu, Eve and Caralyn, crop tops for the others.

As she was leaving, I pulled Ellie aside. “Make a quick trip to the dungeon with a shoulder bag. Get handcuffs, the softest cat-o-nine, some blindfolds and anything else your twisted and talented mind can fit in the bag.”

“Yaahsss, Mahsster. I shall do your eeeville bidding. I see Astroglide® and real nipple clamps in our new sisters’ futures.” Then came the overdone imitation of Marty Feldman in ‘Young Frankenstein’.

“While you’re at it, Eye-gore, bring a few palmcorders we can attach to the James Gang’s collars. Later, they can see the reactions to those hooters when people think they can’t be seen staring.”

“And you call me twisted!” Ellie trotted away with a sashay and a giggle. “Walk this way.”

The girls in cellophane or half-sheer tops (dresses, crops, halters, and boobtoobs) simply remained ‘as is’.

Leah, Jenny, Max, Karen and Irina were adorable in their sheer white ‘Daisy Dukes’ and cellophane bandeau bikinis. The Cooper Square Girls, (Frieda, Maggie and Billi) wore half-halters and half-sheer silver panties. I personally secured the nipple springs.