Chapter 2

"I want you to follow instructions," Bart replied. "I think we ought to get a little deeper into things before everybody makes a lot of promises - but I've already told you what I'm offering. Take off your top." He released her and she stepped away and turned to face him, but didn't move immediately. He eyed her for a moment. "When you stop doing what you're told, we're done."

It was as if they were the only two people in the room. There were Bart's eyes and Bridgette's eyes and noise and clamor and jostling people didn't exist. Bridgette could see the clock ticking in Bart's eyes - he'd made his investment and was waiting for it to bear fruit. She was amazed at the confidence and control he displayed. She grasped her top and pulled it over her head, tossing it onto the floor without looking where it went.

Shannon stared at her friend and the man whose eyes were mapping her friend's breasts, then unfroze to collect the item of clothing before it got trampled and shredded by the standing room only crowd. Neither of them paid the least bit of attention.

Bart held his poker face and managed not to sigh in relief. It was one thing to make demands of business associates in the context of a project and quite another to order a woman to remove her clothing in public! But she needed to pass this test - and he needed to, too - and he needed to see those breasts, anyway.

They were nice. They were wide, puffy cones well anchored to Bridgette's sizeable ribcage - not huge given the scale of the woman they were mounted on, but good-sized nonetheless. The areolas made pink, puffy caps (he LOVED that look) and while the nipples didn't seem to be too big at the moment, he suspected that they were more than adequate. If the rest of Bridgette was even close, she would do - especially considering his already acquired feel for her sexual response! He got himself completely under control, and said, "My turn, I think. Why don't you take a look at the physical part of my offering?"

The way the request was put confused Bridgette for a moment; she wasn't at her best, anyway, given the amount of alcohol she'd ingested in the previous ninety minutes. She blinked a couple of times, then went "Oh!" when Bart glanced at his midsection, but there was no resistance in her as she went to her knees before him.

Embarrassment set in and she glanced around as she reached for the zipper of his slacks. Where was Shannon? What must she be thinking? Then the zipper itself demanded her attention and she focused fully on what she was doing. Slacks. Not jeans, not Dockers - slacks. They were an unusual choice for a dance club - but easier to work with ... Gingerly, she reached inside the man's fly. Briefs - with what seemed to be a telephone pole inside! How on Earth did he get this out to pee? She looked up at Bart, stymied.

Bart was a little embarrassed, but he was at full extension and clothing was only so forgiving. "I guess you'll have to take them down."

Bridgette moved to Bart's belt and her fingers brushed something - something damp! She leaned up a bit and peered down - at the pinkish purple tip of Bart's cock, peeking out above the waistband of his slacks and weeping pre-cum! Wide-eyed, she looked up at Bart's face, then attacked the belt again with shaking fingers, thinking, 'Omigod!'

Shannon watched this byplay in fascination from over Bridgette's left shoulder. 'Okay, ' she thought, 'surely this guy doesn't have anything huge in the way of a dick! Bridgette's acting like ... OMIGOD!' Bridgette got Bart's pants open, revealing the fact that his entire glans stood above the waistband of his tightie-whities. She watched as Bridgette grabbed the sides of Bart's underwear and pulled the waistband away and down his wiry-looking thighs. The anaconda in Bart's crotch descended only to a forty-five degree angle from the vertical and hung there, bobbing and weaving, staring at Shannon through its single eye. Shannon glanced away, looking for something to bring it into scale. It couldn't be THAT big, could it? Her eyes lit on the exposed erection of the dancer on stage - a respectable seven inch dong, she figured. The one Bridgette was wrapping her hand around the base of was a good glans-length longer and somewhat thicker...

Bridgette was shaking like a leaf as she wrapped her fingers reverently around the shaft. Her real-life experience with cocks was limited to this venue - but she'd seen all of the dancers' equipment and knew that they were all a bit above average, anyway - the long-haired young Mick Jagger-looking one did better than that. She'd seen big black cock - and even big white cocks - in video - but never one this size in real life! This was a king cobra of cocks! She had big hands for a girl, but could almost get both of hers around this thing! She gazed up at Bart, amazed...

Bart looked back, smiling. This was Bart's other secret weapon - one that unfortunately he too seldom got a chance to deploy. The two or three 'escorts' he'd paid for in his time (he didn't even THINK to employ cheap hookers) had been agog - but then they didn't really count, did they? They could have been lying, but then he'd seen a few other cocks and knew he had eight out of ten on the run ... Bridgette's gaze was absolutely worshipful. Even more heartening was the collective 'Ooooo!" that chorused from a dozen female witnesses - including Bridgette's corpulent girlfriend, who looked to be almost drooling. "Kiss it," Bart directed.

The directive was music to Bridgette's ears! Just holding the hot, firm shaft in her hands bled calm and satisfaction into her through her palms. When - not if - this monster penetrated her womanhood, it was going to come out her mouth - and she was looking forward to tasting it that way! But for now ... She lowered her lips over the crown of it, her tongue diving into the slit to collect the nectar weeping from it.

Bart hissed in a breath. The pleasure was almost intolerable. Bart's sex life wasn't much, if any, better than Bridgette's - and maybe worse, since he wasn't gay and wasn't getting even same-sex pleasures. "I might cum!" he hissed. "I'm very aroused!"

Bridgette removed her mouth only long enough to gaze up at him through big, bright eyes. "Please?" Then she rolled her lips over his glans and over the flange to the sensitive area at the juncture of it and the shaft, her tongue instinctively washing the most sensitive spots on his penis.

"YAAAAAH!" Bart grabbed Bridgette's shoulders while he erupted - copiously. This wasn't your average teaspoonful of ejaculate; Bridgette choked as it hosed the back of her throat and it foamed out around the corners of her mouth on both sides before she got control of it! Bart erupted five times in her mouth before his output tailed off and he settled back to merely pulsing. Bridgette swallowed a thick, chewy mouthful of the product before holding the remainder in her mouth to use as a wash for his still pulsing penis. This was apples and oranges to her previous experiences with cock sucking - or maybe apples to something overripe, since the difference was so marked ... She backed off when Bart waved that he couldn't stand the intensity, licking at the spillage at the corners of her mouth. Dark tendrils tickled the right side of her neck and a familiar voice husked reverently, "Holy shit!"

Shannon was hunched beside her, her head hanging over her shoulder, gazing raptly at Bart's cock. She turned to face Bridgette as the big girl turned to face her and murmured, "Hold still," then took Bridgette's head in her hands and leaned in to lick at the dregs running to her chin from the corner of her mouth. "Gawd, did you save any?" Bridgette smiled and nodded and Shannon unashamedly leaned in to collect her lips and suck a snowball from Bridgette's mouth. "Omigod! That's wonderful!" she gurgled.

"That was leftovers!" Bridgette giggled. She was giddy. A few minutes before, she'd been angry and frustrated - but now ... Now she was excited!

She wasn't the only one - Bart looked around to discover nearly a dozen women dancing distractedly and drinking while they watched the byplay between Bart and Bridgette, murmuring comments about Bart's sexual equipment. Bart wasn't going down in Bridgette's hands - he was still firm and at full extension. Suddenly, a thick bleached blonde woman danced in and tried to lower her mouth over Bart's cock.

"Hey!" Bridgette howled, thinking 'Oh, no, not again!' This kind of thing had happened regularly earlier in the evening when she was courting dancers and caused instant distress.

Bart, however, swept the woman back. "This is a private party!" he declared, glaring at the woman.

"Well, all right..." Embarrassed, the woman backed off.

Bart looked down at Bridgette, whose face positively glowed with gratitude. She was slowly jacking his shaft, and with his erection freed she rubbed it on her face. After a moment, she looked up at Shannon, and then shifted her gaze to Bart. "Shannon... ?" she asked.

Bart frowned and pursed his lips. "I'll think about it. There is only so much of me to go around. She will have to abide by the rules, in any case." He glanced around. "Let's go somewhere less noisy and crowded," he suggested, waving at a quieter corner near the end of the bar.

"Rules?" Shannon asked when they got there and she could lean in to be heard. It still wasn't quiet. Bart, standing with his back to the wall, looked out over the crowd. There were at least three girls in various places bent over and being fucked. The one black dancer on site had two women taking turns nodding over his cock - and there were girls behind, watching. In fact, there were girls watching everywhere, some in disgust and some in fascination and some impatiently waiting for whoever was in front of them to get out of the way so they could participate. Bart watched one chunky girl giving head - to Ed, he realized - while another pushed her onto Ed's cock from behind, palming the back of her head and pushing her deep onto Ed's shaft. Ed wasn't complaining. Girls were undressing one another, dumping drinks on one another, fondling one another ... Bart dragged his attention back to the women in front of him - not that he had ever let go of Bridgette. He still didn't know the names of either of them. The fat dark-haired girl - oh, hold it - Shannon? - was a complication. Well, perhaps the rules would remove the problem... "There is only one rule, actually," Bart declared. "What I say goes. Period."

Shannon blinked. "That's a serious rule."

"I'm serious about it," Bart replied. "Break it and see what happens."

"What's the flip side?" Shannon asked, wondering 'Why isn't Bridgette asking these questions?'

"What am I offering?" Bart clarified. Shannon nodded. "A relationship." He paused. "I really wasn't prepared to offer two..."

"Oh." Shannon took it like a slap.

Bart wasn't looking at her - he was frowning at the floor. "It would tend to complicate things. You two would have to cooperate with one another and share. I really didn't plan..." He looked up. "Is there some reason why you shouldn't be separated?"

"We're living together," Bridgette made her first entry into the conversation.

"Oh." Bart absorbed this. After a moment, he turned to Bridgette. "My original offer was to you. I don't think it is my place to tell you that you must give up that sole position. I will not insist that you share - I think it devalues my offer and suggests that I'm shallow and not serious." He paused a moment. "But if you want to volunteer to share, I will try to make it work. The decision is yours."

Shannon frowned. "May we... ?" She waved indicating that she wanted to take Bridgette a few feet away for privacy.

"Certainly." Bart sighed. This had gone so well - but this Shannon was likely to screw things up. Ultimately, it might be necessary to go looking for his second candidate...

"You didn't say anything back there," Shannon pressed Bridgette, flicking a glance at Bart. "What has he promised you?"

Bridgette thought about it. "Comfort and protection," she recounted the list. "Pleasure and joy. And love, even."

"When was this?"

"While he ... held me."

"Anything else?"

"He said ... Well, it was words to the effect that he would fuck me - regularly," Bridgette mused.

"Well, that's a start..." Shannon flicked a glance at Bart's waistline. His pants were more or less done up again, but she knew what was behind that fly... "What does he want?"

"To be the boss," Bridgette replied. "Total control. He said..." She squinted at the ceiling while she recalled his words, "There must never be a question which of us is in control - you must obey my wishes in all things."

Shannon wrinkled her nose. "That's, like, slavery!"

"If he delivers, what's so bad about it?" Bridgette burst out. "You haven't..."

"What did he do to you?"

"He just ... took control. One moment I was giving him crap, and the next he was sucking my neck and little chills were running all over my body! And then..."

"And then what?"

"And then he described our situation as if he'd been watching us through binoculars for a month - that's what he did!" Bridgette snapped. "He called me a damned liar and ... a big, unhappy girl who wasn't getting any male attention and had settled on you for emotional support!"