Chapter 21

Earlier, the Chief Matron had issued the five girls chosen to "entertain" at the Spaxton meeting their wardrobe for the evening... a brief and sexy little mini-dress, nothing more with the exception of their shoes. When the ugly-faced Seybor returned to Jean's, Sandy's, and Carla Montez's shared cell where the other two girls, Dollie Malloy and Barbara Sayer, two attractive teenaged brunettes, had been made to join them, the five youthful beauties sat side by side facing one another on the edges of the small beds, their legs modestly held together to hide their pantieless young loins even from each other.

Minutes before the big woman's arrival, fifteen year old Dollie with fearful tears brimming in her dark-eyes had said: "Honest, I'm so scared I could scream! Doing it with a boy is one thing, but with old and fat men... God!"

"Hey now, get hold of yourself, honey," lovely Carla Montez, an eighteen year old professional prostitute encouraged, slipping an arm around the younger girl beside her. "It's not all that bad in the first place, and in the second, you know the plans..."

"Shhhh!" Jean cautioned, holding a finger to her pursed lips. "Seybor's got ears like a blood-hound's nose."

"Speaking of hounds, I wonder if that beautiful Kappy will be on hand to do his bit?" red-headed Sandy Jarvis put in with a little smile of anticipation.

Jean, too, felt a tiny ripple of excitement twinge in her belly at the mention of the great German shepherd, her cheeks flushing lightly at the memory of her first introduction to him. She turned her head, hoping the others hadn't noticed.

"I'll take him anytime to the rest of those lecherous old bastards," Carla replied, lighting a cigarette.

"Oh God!" the long, raven-haired Barbara Sayer, a sixteen year older exclaimed. "You mean... w-we have to do it with a dog, too... ?"

"Oh, but what a dog, honey!" Carla said, rolling her big eyes and licking at her lips as she let out smoke from her lungs. "He'd put most men I've laid to shame..."

"All right, let's go back over our plan," Jean interrupted. "We haven't much time left. Does everyone understand what they do... ?"

It was at that precise moment that Seybor had walked in on them, a coarse grin twisting her thick-lipped mouth as the girls immediately fell silent.

"Discussing the hot events to come, I presume," the Chief Matron luridly taunted in her raspy voice. "Well, some of you already know what it's about, and the other two are going to learn. Remember, you can either enjoy it or blow it. I'd advise you to play your cards right and make them happy, male and female; you might even do yourselves some good. I understand there's going to be some state big-wheels there, and they'll expect the right kind of "entertainment," eh? I've got your regular quota of "trip-tonic" here... that is if you want it. It helps... if you know what I mean..."

"We've decided that we don't need it," Jean said, looking directly into the big woman's ugly face.

"Yeah... ?" Seybor questioned in surprise. "Now listen, pussy-cat, you better not douse this show up if you know what's good for you..."

"Don't worry, we're not fools, Seybor," Carla cut her short. "We know what's expected of us... and what'll happen if we don't 'give our all', so as to speak, eh?"

The big matron's eyes narrowed as she leveled them on the attractive Latin girl. "You better give your all, Montez, if you know what's good for you. Otherwise, you're going to answer to me."

"And I can't think of anything more revolting than that, Seybor," the long-haired brunette replied with a sneer.

"Bitch!" Seybor hissed, venomously. "I'll get you yet... wait and see!"

"Ugh!" Carla made a pretended gagging sound, followed by a nauseated contortion of her pretty face. "Better I should eat shit!"

The powerful matron's homely face flushed an angry red as she clenched her strong hands into fists in an effort to control her mounting rage. For a long and tensed moment silence hung heavy in the room, until Jean dared to break it.

"I-Isn't it about time we left for the Keele house?"

The big woman let off a hissing sigh, then nodded her head. "Okay... , okay, Montez, I'll wait a little longer... until you hang yourself. Meantime, on your feet, cunts... it's time for the show to start..."

Nervously, Carol Heath paced back and forth across the living room of their apartment, occasionally glancing at her watch, then walking to a mirror to primp at her hair or fidget with the black, cocktail mini garment she had chosen to wear. She felt quite naked actually, never having worn the low-cut dress without a bra before, but it seemed in keeping, under the circumstances. By the same token, she had decided against panties, her panty-hose seemingly sufficient, and the lack of these usual necessities snuggling against the softness of her young vagina gave rise to the little heated sensations fermenting in her belly.

God, she had no idea what had happened to Jack. She hadn't seen him since they'd exhaustedly climbed into bed that morning, and when she'd awakened late in the afternoon he was gone. His absence hadn't surprised her too much; there were things to be taken care of and she'd assumed he was doing that. But when he hadn't returned for dinner, she had begun to wonder, and now it was passed nine, the hour they were due at the Keeles. God, was it possible that his jealousy had gotten the better of him and he'd simply walked off... maybe even left her? But... but he wouldn't do that... would he... under the circumstances... or would he? He'd been very angry with her, she realized, and all because she hadn't been willing to discuss their "party" as they always had in the past... and yes, he was that jealous!