Chapter 25

Author’s Note: I think you’ll begin to get a better idea of the future direction of the story arc in this chapter. Thanks for reading and your feedback. I really appreciate it and thrive on it, praise and constructive criticism. Thank you for being adults about it.

The limo ride from Aria to Cosmo, where our table at the Marquee nightclub awaited, was just a couple minutes. It would have been faster to walk. If we had walked, however, I would have been deprived of the sight before me: Kat on her knees in front of me as I sat at the far end of the limo, sniffing a second line of cocaine off a small mirror, before offering me the other two she had cut.

“This is outrageously good stuff,” I said, rubbing my nose as Kat sat on my lap. “There’s almost no bitterness on the drip.”

Kat had a crazed look in her eyes. “I’m so fucking wired,” she said quickly. “I’m dying to know what you have planned next.”

I pulled her panties aside as she sat on me and fished my cock out of my pants. She looked at me hungrily.

“I need it,” she said.

“I’m going to make you so turned on,” I said, licking my lips, “that you are craving cock and begging for it like you never dreamed you could.”

I lifted her hips and put my cock inside her in one fluid motion. The limo was just pulling up to the Cosmo. I pulled out after that one stroke and zipped up, putting her panties back into place.

“You fucking tease,” she hissed. “You did not just do that to me.”

I smoothed down her dress and patted her butt.

“You bet your sweet ass I just did,” I said. The limo door opened. “Let’s get going!”

Kat got out of the limo with poise, but I saw the sheen of moisture between her thighs. She turned heads as we walked through the throngs of the Cosmo, past the reception desk, and the Vesper Bar.

“You were picked up like a street walker right there,” I whispered to her. “If I saw you working or escorting? I’d cover the bed in money and fuck you right on it.”

She clung to my arm and swooned slightly. “Oh shit, that is so fucking hot,” she said.

I ramped things up even further. “You know,” I said, “you want James mostly for his money. Like you said, billion with a ‘b.’ It’s kind like you’re his whore, but he has to pay you half of everything.”

“God, you’re right,” she said. “I never thought about it like that. I am a whore. I’m just a whore.”

“Not just a whore,” I said, as we approached the Marquee’s entrance. “My whore.”

A hostess clad in a black-trimmed, purple bustier escorted us to a table for ten at the edge of the Marquee dance floor. It wasn’t midnight yet, but the crowd had begun to teem. It was an absurd amount of space for two people, but I knew it wouldn’t stay that way long.

Kat was bubbling over when she found out Tiesto, her favorite DJ, was headlining that night. She was content to dance while I connected with our waitress. Her name was Brittney and looked like a filtered, anime bimbo. She had a nose that came to a sharp point that screamed plastic surgeon. Her breasts spilled out of the bustier. With her tiny waist and long legs, she looked like tits on a stick. But she also sported a surprisingly curvy ass. She was exotically hot. I told her we wanted a magnum of Dom Perignon rosé, but when others joined us, we would order liquor, too.

Kat was lost in the music, the pulsating thumps directing the rhythm of her body. I watched her, an island unto herself in the growing crowd of the club. She was naturally and erotically in tune with the music. It was hypnotic. I pulled out my phone and sent a text message. Kat continued to dance until Brittney returned with our Champagne. I stared unabashedly down her impressive cleavage as she bent over. She just smiled.

I questioned my decision to tease Kat -- and by association, me -- for so long. My sexual desire was in overdrive, and the club atmosphere didn’t help. I joined Kat on the dance floor for a while, and once we took a break to drink the Dom, my phone lit up, so I excused myself to the restroom.

As arranged, there stood Caitlyn, the XS waitress from our previous trip. I hugged her. She wore a shimmering silver barely-there dress. She looked like the sculpture of a model to me.

“Thanks for coming,” I said and palmed her the coke bullet.

“Does she have any idea?” Caitlyn asked.

I shook my head, and she disappeared into the restroom. When she emerged several minutes later, she smiled with coke-happy eyes and let me lead her to our table. Kat had her back to it, still dancing, but when she turned and saw Caitlyn sitting next to me, she screamed and rushed to her.

“Oh my god!” Kat shrieked. “What are you doing here?”

“John said it was your bachelorette party,” she laughed.

My plan for the evening was a risk. I was pretty sure it would go over well, but I had some residual butterflies as it finally started to play out. The three of us drank and caught up. When the girls went to the dance floor, I excused myself again. This time, I walked back to the entrance and met Kayla and Stephanie, who had finished their late performance. Kayla was my Jubilee! showgirl friend from many Vegas trips, and Stephanie was her friend who had won the spanking contest I gave them the previous year.

Kayla was very tall, fully six feet in her tall heels, with a slim top and powerful legs. Her ass was the nicest I had ever seen, and the dress she wore tonight looked like it was painted on her. She was Australian and had a very light accent. Stephanie was similarly tall, with rust red hair, modest breast implants, and a hard body. She was slimmer than Kayla but powerfully built. They were in superb shape. She wore a micro skirt and white half-shirt that made it abundantly clear she didn’t wear a bra.

I kissed them hello.

“Thanks for coming,” I said with a warm smile. “We’re going to have some fun.”

“We never fail to have fun,” Kayla said flirtatiously.

I escorted the two showgirls to our table. Brittney appeared, poured Champagne, and I ordered another magnum and a bottle of tequila. I offered Kayla and Stephanie some blow, but they declined. I had forgotten they were randomly drug tested.

Kat and Caitlyn approached us with slightly confused looks on their face, their hair and dresses disheveled from dancing.

“Baby,” I said to Kat, “these are my showgirl friends Kayla and Stephanie.”

I introduced Kat and Caitlyn, and fortunately Brittney rescued me from the natural awkwardness of the moment by arriving with Champagne and tequila. She prepared a round of shots for everyone, and that helped break the ice. I could see Kat wondered what was going on.

“If you’ve fucked me,” I said loudly, “you have to take a shot!”

Brittney handed each girl a shot.

“Your personal harem,” she said to me. “Nice.”

I clinked glasses with Kat, Caitlyn, Kayla, and Stephanie. Kat said in my ear, “What’s going on?” I merely grinned. My goal was simple. I wanted the girls to get along and dance and have fun. I wanted all of them to loosen up. It was a bit of a challenge initially because Kat and Caitlyn went off to the bathroom to do more cocaine, leaving Kayla and Stephanie with me.

Eventually, though, alcohol ruled the day. The girls drank and danced, and we had a blast. There were few things better than being in a Vegas nightclub, not a care in the world, with a group of beautiful women. Once I had all the girls buzzed and at peak energy, shortly before last call, I knew it was time to head back to the villa and escalate things. Everyone but Kat knew it was coming.

It started in the limo on the return to the Bellagio. Caitlyn stole Kat’s seat next to me. I fed her bumps of coke from the vial, and we started kissing. My hands wandered above and below her dress. Kayla and Stephanie, who had strong bisexual tendancies, made out enthusiastically. Kat looked shocked, but I also saw the familiar lust in her eyes. She had been teased relentlessly for the past several hours. I beckoned her to come sit on my lap.

“Do you trust me?” I asked her.

“Always,” she said. “But I really want your dick in me.”

“Good,” I said. “You have to trust me. Don’t ask questions. Just do as you’re told.”

“Yes, daddy,” she said in a whisper.

In the villa, we gave the girls a tour. Caitlyn and Kat hit the coke on the marble coffee table outside while I showed Kayla and Stephanie the pool. I suggested they could get comfortable and take a swim. They took the hint, stripping and getting in the pool. I poured drinks for everyone and joined Kayla and Stephanie, sitting on the edge of the pool while they swam. They came out, briefly toweled off, and I reminded Kat of the villa rule. She and Caitlyn had been chatting in the excited, machine-gun manner of people on too much cocaine.

“Why don’t we take this party inside?” I suggested as Kat peeled off her dress.

Inside, I guided Kat to an armchair and surprised her by producing arm and leg restraints. Her eyes got wide.

“Trust me,” I repeated.

I bound her upper and lower limbs to the chair. Caitlyn had stripped and joined Kayla and Stephanie on the couch, which faced Kat. By now, I think she realized what was going to happen. She squirmed. Her thighs were wet. I could see the desperation and deprivation on her face and smiled.