Chapter 24: Visit to Chronis

Late Night Wednesday August 6, 2008

Wednesday evening Li and I visited Chronis with an entourage. We took five others with us: Samantha and Qwit plus Irene with Corum and Brisk. We drove in the Hummer and the Town Car. In addition I had two armored Suburbans with heavy 49 SWAT teams as backup, they were waiting just outside the parking lot when we pulled up and would stay until we were gone.

Sam had been there once for a job during her crash-pad hacker days; she had contracted to hook some hardware into their system. In fact, for her and two crash-pad guys she picked to help her, that 30-hour (non-stop) job was more than half of their legit income that year. They had quite a celebration when they got paid - one of the guys had liberated some top-shelf booze from the bar during the job.

I got the whole party in without using any names based on my “BlackBlank Card” membership as a “special friend of the club.” Normally there is a $1,000 cash cover charge. In addition, a solid ID and medical report are required in advance. As a critical drug supplier I and my crew bypassed all the paperwork.

The biggest benefit was that no records were kept, we were never there.

The deal is that people arrive at what looks like a mid-price hotel near downtown wearing normal clothes. The street-level parking lot is out-of-place for the decor, it is large and filled with nice cars. The hotel is above the lot. Technically you rent a tiny Motel 6 - type room in the hotel. In the room we all changed into something exotic, like one might wear to an erotic costume party. For females some indecent exposure is expected. Masks are required, although folks such as porn stars do minimal facial coverings, essentially makeup and prosthetics, then they write their stage name on their body in glowing waterproof ink. Subtle.

When the entire group was ready - our bags were packed and stacked as a precaution - we exited the room’s back door (hidden in the closet) to a hallway and stairs that leads up to the exhibit/party area, which is strictly private and is posted. IDs were checked, but with my card that part was pretty much “eyes front” as we passed. As a black card “Ultra Max Commander VIP” I was allowed to openly carry my Glock with a silencer, extended mag and scope in a shoulder holster, an ensign of rank that was apparently so rare there most did not believe it was real.

Well, belief only mattered when it was too late.

None of us were wearing enough to conceal anything significant.

We all had masks, capes, gloves and boots which are the norm, the look was sort of “Batman Goes Tripping Behind the Green Door on Sunset Boulevard - On Halloween.” All but Samantha were bare-chested, it was that type of place. Li had neon-blue nipple paint to highlight the little things.

Samantha had the greatest concern - she had to cover her tats - so she wore this full body suit that looked like a spider web spun all around her entire body. The very realistic-looking flesh-colored opaque fabric under the web hid her distinctive tattoos. The real purpose of the hyper-realistic web was to draw attention away from the skin. To emphasize the web she had a large live tarantula named Jess crawling around the web on her chest; a leash of fine, strong silk plus some scent markers made sure movement was restricted, but it was clearly real, large, free and very much alive as it wandered her hills and valleys. She found the large live arachnid discouraged incidental touching - the healthy instinct is to draw the hand back rather than extending it.

Hairy Jess did have fangs, big ones, and was very eager to show them off. They were “live” in terms of venom but Sam carefully milked most of the venom before we arrived, leaving just a little bit so anybody stupid enough to get bit would wind up on the floor looking stupid. If their body weight was low enough then twisting in agony was possible and very entertaining for Jess.

She had two other tarantulas, one decorated with glowing pink paint in her back and her hair. A second leaping spider - without a leash, it was bound purely by scent - jumped around her body.

Anyone who bothered the tarantula would discover that their hairs could be very irritating, like the manticore of legend they were able to “cast” the hairs at threats and the damn things itched for days where they hit bare skin. That was especially a problem considering exactly what bare skin was exposed by the crowd.

Li was wearing red satin leggings that reached to within an inch to the top of her thigh. Her entire crotch was exposed, with her outer lips painted with lipstick, it highlighted her new labial ring. She only wore only the non-diamond stuff, with the large, curved gold barbell on the other side. To highlight the ring even more, I had attached a gold coin the size of a silver-dollar to it, she said the weight gave her comfort and made her feel totally and proudly owned. On top she was wearing a cut-away bolero vest that covered her shoulders, shoulder blades and not much more, the lower hem was higher than the bottom of her small breasts and the front opening was so wide her small breasts were very much proudly made-up and on display. She was also wearing her wig with makeup and the footwear from the night we had dinner at Blank, she called it her “Do Wong” character. This white wig ran down to her butt in back; a butt plug sported the tail of a white tiger curved upward and blended into the wig. The final touch was a tight, thick red neck-collar and two matching leather belts wrapped around her body, one just below her breasts and the second at her hips. A matching leash was attached to the labial ring, she got a real thrill when I took 5 minutes to attach or detach it. (There was just a simple clip, I just took my time thrilling her crotch, which looks better when lubrication flowed.) The whole look, which exposed much of her body, was very exotic, like a walking, willing bondage fuck. She really loved parading the “submissive sex pet” outfit before a crowd as long as I was holding the leash.

The other four had outfits more suited to movement and protection that also showed off their muscles. They looked like bodyguards, which was the whole point. Metal weapons were not allowed (except for my Glock), but the guys carried long “knee-breaker” nightsticks made of fine grained barauna wood. This is a cashew tree from the Amazon; the wood is harder than mahogany, in fact it is second only to a strain of Australian Ironwood in density. Irene and Sam both wore extended ceramic fingernails, they looked ornamental but each had at least one that was sharpened to a ceramic razor that could draw blood with a touch. Irene also had a long wicked ceramic knife on her boot, it was the size of a Roman gladius, had a spine of barauna wood and was sharp enough to do fine eye surgery - or create a really nasty new scar.

We all wore masks, Sam’s was dotted with spider eyes, including some that actually recorded. Li’s mask was red with feathers covering most of her upper face (more “Story of O” imagery). Irene had a full face mask of hard white plastic, like a female Storm Trooper, except it had been disfigured by what looked like combat damage to show her facial scar, which was enhanced and looked like it was bleeding. There was a dual-iris eye on one side that looked eerily realistic and disturbing. The rest of us were in standard Zorro-type black masks held with adhesive. I had a beard, a gray widow’s peak wig and looked twice my age. Sam and Li exposed their genitals while Qwit had his balls hanging free while his erect cock was wrapped in leather and attached to his belt like an Amazon native indian (Sam’s idea). The rest wore obvious protective codpieces, Irene’s was transparent, and her labia was highlighted with lipstick. If you looked closely, her pussy had teeth and another eye that moved.