Every Woman Has a Price
3 - Hard Sell

Copyright© 2019 by Redsliver

Mind Control Sex Story: 3 - Hard Sell - What if you could buy anyone? That beautiful waitress at your favorite hangout? That gorgeous screaming chick in that metal band you never miss? What about that redhead? Just a stranger on the street. Could you handle her? Could you handle her enemies?

Caution: This Mind Control Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Fa/Fa   Magic   Mind Control   Slavery   Lesbian   Group Sex   Harem   Slow  

“Jesus, Elizabeth, you look like haven’t slept in a week.” Darlene was normally relieved when a second waitress showed up to take on the suppertime load. Elizabeth didn’t look like she was going to be able to handle it.

“I slept fine.” Elizabeth muttered. “Hi Carlos. Hi Davy.”

“Lizzie!” The cook cheered. Davy just nodded.

Shedding her winter coat, she cut through to the break room. Darlene plastered on her smile and took out a tray of burgers to their waiting customers. It was during the lull, a little after lunch, a little before supper. Darlene finally managed to get a breather next to Elizabeth.

“You sure you’re OK?” Darlene asked.

“Never said I was OK.” She was wasting zero time. She had the broom in hand to quickly give the front a sweep. They didn’t shirk their work but they’d never been keeners either. Embarrassed into action, Darlene followed Elizabeth out to clear up the counter.

“You gotta tell me what’s wrong. Can I help?” Darlene stopped Elizabeth with a hand on the blonde’s elbow.

“It’s a sex thing.” Elizabeth mumbled.

“Wow.” Darlene nodded. “Wish I’d known that before I volunteered. You know what? Never done things with a girl before but I’m not going to back out. Do you like getting spanked?”

The joke went over like a lead balloon. Darlene then took the moment to skirt her eyes around the restaurant to be certain no one was looking. There were two tables talking animatedly and hardly listening. Hmm, they were going to need refills soon. She grabbed a pair of glasses. Liz answered.

“I mean, usually sure. I just said no last night.” Elizabeth sighed.

“If you were going to be this worked up about it, why didn’t you say yes?” Darlene asked. She knew Elizabeth’s boyfriend. Sure, she’d have said, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Please God! Yes!” most of the time. Obviously, a girl was not going to keep that up at every opportunity.

“I don’t know.” Elizabeth whined. “I just felt like I wasn’t right to be doing that. Like I needed to find out if that’s what was wanted or not.”

“OK, so you weren’t in the mood. That happens. One sec.” Darlene took over a tray and swapped out pops. Damn, she was earning her tip today! She was beaming when she got back. Elizabeth was washing her hands.

“You going to ambush him when you get home? Get over this shit?” Darlene asked.

“No.” Elizabeth said.

“Well, that does mean no.” Darlene shrugged. “You guys still good? Maybe you’re starting to see the thing as all played out?”

“I--You know what I’d like?”

“To get your hair pulled and hoo-ha filled.” Darlene nodded.

“I think I’d cheer up if Owen and Janice came in.” Elizabeth ignored Darlene’s crassness. Darlene’s smile moved into more waitress territory than to friends. This was all about that stupid coin! Goddammit! Seriously? It was an over the top gesture, sure. They got those from time to time. You just took the huge tip and acted stupid when they were surprised you didn’t write your phone number on the bill. Jesus. What was the problem? That she’d have to sell it online to get the money out of it?

“I can’t believe they’re cousins.” Darlene took a hard left to keep her frustration with Elizabeth from fucking things up. She started thinking of the skinny pretty hippy girl. Old jealousy was settling in. She tried to sell what she knew to herself. “Is that what you need? To see a cute couple that isn’t getting laid?” Though Darlene still had trouble against imagining Janice not getting it on with Owen. She rallied. “Anyway, he usually swings by on the weekend. Why don’t you go get some trashy lingerie after work? That’s how I get back into it when I’m in a slump.”

“Yeah?” Elizabeth nodded. “That doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

Darlene noticed the fatalism and squeezed her friend’s shoulder. It was back to the grind. The third waiter made it in for six and Darlene got to clear out on time. “Hey, feel better.”

“I’ll try.” Elizabeth waved to Darlene as the brunette walked out the front doors of the restaurant. Darlene was feeling a little pissed. She hadn’t gotten laid in three months, and that had only stopped because she was sick of being a one night or one weekend fling. She just had no idea on how to look for a boyfriend and not a temporarily excited penis. She saw Owen walking down the street towards her. Waving, hopping and waving, and finally hopping, waving, and shouting in his face got his attention.

“What? Oh shit! Hi Darlene.”

“Hi.” She smiled. “What’re you up to?”

“Kinda stuck on my vacation days without Janny. I need to make more friends.” He shrugged.

Her teeth ground just a little bit.

“I’m great at making friends. I’ll get you started on the beginner’s course. Come on, buy me dinner.” She sidled up to him and took his arm.

“What? I mean sure. I was going to get some chicken fingers--”

“Nope!” Darlene tugged him in a short circle so they were headed back the way he came. “I just spent nine hours there. Besides, you need to open your eyes to more tastes of the city.”

“You sure?”

“Dude, I’m there five, six days a week. Yes, we’re going somewhere else.” She knew he had it bad for Elizabeth. If Darlene wanted a chance, letting Owen near Elizabeth when the blonde was not good in the head was premature relationship suicide. Janice was out of the city too. When else would she get a chance with all the competition out of the way?


“Calm down, sweetheart.” Kirk spoke into his cell phone. “There wasn’t a fire. I’m sure Val was just being Val. Besides the safe at home would have been plenty secure even if it isn’t the big one at the shop.”

He smiled and mouthed “Merci.” to the older woman who brought him his cup of coffee.

“Yes, but I had signed for the coin as the shop. That’s what his receipt says. She all but ripped it out of my hands the moment Owen had left the store. Like it was the one Goddamned ring to rule them all or something.”

“And you talked her down and now it’s in the safe.” Kirk was enjoying his time away from the catfight. Frieda had her claws out all of the time around Val. Val, well Val was transparently mercenary about money and quality of life. It was such a change from the games and the lies his previous girlfriends and wife thought they had needed to play. Honesty wasn’t always nice and tender. Always nice and tender was never honest. As always, he felt like he was making the right decision about a woman.

A beautiful woman of thirty entered the cafe. She pushed up her glasses, hefted her leather attache, and walked over to take a seat at Kirk’s table. Kirk smiled. Frieda continued to claim she didn’t trust Val. The old woman brought the newly arrived guest a coffee.

“Et Monsieur le Carre?”

“Bientot.” The woman smiled. Another man entered. He was older, pushing sixty, short, fit, and brown skinned. His black hair had all but finished going grey. He wore a brilliant silk suit. Kirk didn’t think to be embarrassed by his khaki shorts and sock filled sandals.

“Why do you even have her work for you? Didn’t you ever hear don’t shit where you eat!” Frieda’s rant ended on frustrated upswing.

“Sweetheart,” He smiled. “I know you’re frustrated--”

“I should be. You should’ve seen how she was treating Owen!” The teenager’s tone and use of the customer’s name raised a lot of questions from Kirk but he didn’t have the time.

“And I appreciate that. I’m sitting down with Monsieur Carre now. I’ll be home in a few days.” He smiled as the man sat across from him. “Try to let some of this slide off now? You don’t need to let the anger fester.”

“You can’t tell me how to feel.” Frieda dug in. “Don’t come home too soon. I hope the French girls are beautiful.”

That was another question he decided he’d need to broach later. Instead, Kirk said, “They certainly are. Goodbye, love you.”

He hung up, Frieda was muttering her “Love ya, too.” but in such a way that she was going to rant again. Sometimes, you had to say goodbye and just go. “Desole.”

“Ce n’est rien. Ta fille?”

“Oui,” Kirk grinned.

“Elles valent la peine.” Monsieur la Carre nodded. “You have met my Natasha.”

“I have.” Kirk nodded. “Thank you, we’ve long since proven you speak much better English than I do French.”

“Vraiment.” The woman sipped her coffee with a smile.

“Yet, you improve.” Monsieur le Carre said. “I am glad we have found each other.”

“As am I. It’s been a long relationship.” Kirk nodded. “And better than most.”

“Giselle, les papiers.” He smiled to the woman and she flipped open her attache. She brought out a manila folder of documents and soft binder of photographs.

“Far more details than with all of our previous work.” Kirk nodded. He started with the documents. He procured an android tablet and loaded up the pictures his daughter had sent him. “They’re certainly match the age and minting of your grandfather’s collection.”

“This is it!” M. Le Carre shouted. “Look, the box!”

He flipped open the binder. There was a sepia toned photograph on the ninth page. It showed a bright eyed young man and a well-dressed middle aged man who looked much like M. Le Carre might’ve twenty years ago, but whiter. A beautiful pair of brown women flanked the men in the picture, posing with an arm through an arm. The one with the younger man did not look happy. Behind them all, on the shelf, was a dark wooden box. It was an old photograph.

“We must not get ahead of ourselves.” Giselle said. “This wouldn’t be the first false positive you’ve gone after.”

“I have to agree with Giselle.” Kirk said as he accepted the photograph. “The connection is not impossible but I still have work to do.”

“Of course, of course.” M. Le Carre tried to take a deep breath but despite his attempt to calm himself, he did not. “What is the name of the seller?”

“My client has not given me leave to share that,” Kirk answered.

“Merde! Find out if he received the coins from an Isaac Lahey. Isaac Lahey. Remember it.” M. Le Carre said with force.

“Yes,” Kirk agreed. “It is explained here.”

There was a list of names and information on one of the sheets. Data and whereabouts and obituaries tied to six of the seven. “Isaac Lahey, Canadian.” was all that was noted in the fifth slot.

“It is so close.” M. le Carre shook and smiled with childish glee.

“It may well be, Monsieur.”

“Non, non, we are friends Kirk. We’ve worked together for so long. Please, I insist, Maxim.” M. le Carre declared.

Kirk nodded with a smile. He went back to the paperwork. Giselle was right. Kirk had colleagues that also worked with M. le Carre. The glee and camaraderie disappeared the instant the path led to a dead end. He had friends in Alberta that went from being feted to being less than dogshit. Kirk set his expectations low. The mystery and the hunt still fascinated him. He had forgotten all about his daughter’s strange statements and tone.

 
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