Chapter 3

Once again I sat at a lonely rear table at Sully's Diner with Detective Scott and Counselor Green. They both peered at me with stupid, empty expressions, waiting for my report. I sat and munched on fries.

After waiting long enough, shifting in his seat, Green asked, "So, has it been going well? Have you made any penetration?" – I had to stifle a laugh. "I mean, into the organization?"

"Trust me," I said. "You don't want the details."

"I just wanna know if you've made progress."

"I made progress." I reached and fingered the necklace, its heart-shaped charm. Detective Scott noticed and arched her brows.

"With who?" she asked.

I leaned back in my chair and held a sagging french fry eye-level between her and me. "A man who calls himself 'Omega'."

She seemed surprised. "A man?"

"Yes."

Green turned to her. "I'm sure the gender of whatever contacts Detective Wimberly has made are not at issue here. So" – he turned back to me – "tell me about this Omega."

I popped the fry into my mouth and swallowed. "He is a player in The Culture who has taken a liking to me. He's agreed to take me to some parties."

"Very good." He paused for a bit, waiting. Then he asked, "When?"

"Soon. I'll let you know what I find."

Green and I peered at each other for a bit. Then he said, "That's fine."

The detective shifted forward. "Wait," she said, "I think we need to know when and where these parties are, and definitely more about this Omega. This whole deal is dangerous, and I hate to think of Detective Wimberly out there alone without cover."

"I don't want cover. Not for this."

"Fine, but if you turn up missing, I'd at least like to know where to start looking."

It made sense, but where to start looking was with my beloved Sara and her fifteen-year-old niece Madeline, and all their pain and fucking – and how sore my ass and tits felt just then – and how wet that made me. I would never – never – put them in the path of the police. Before that, I'd die a thousand times. If they ever must look, let them look for this imaginary 'Omega'.

"This assignment is beyond fucked up," I said. "You want me to continue, then I do it my way."

"Fine," Green said. "Your body, your choice."

We walked west along Beacon Street, past the Public Gardens and into the upscale Back Bay neighborhood. Red-brick row houses towered around us.

"How far is the party?" Madeline asked.

"Not much more, a few blocks," Sara replied.

Sara looked great. She wore a little black strapless dress that showed her beautiful pale cleavage and her lovely round ass. It was a very short dress.

Madeline wore a dress also, a red velvet thing with brass buttons. Her shoes were tall, laced, and black. Her hair was up, its lovely ringlets falling over her ears and cheeks. She wore heavy make up, red cheeks and lips, green shadow over blue eyes. She looked like a darling little whore.

She wouldn't stop touching me. As we walked, she held my hand and leaned into me, rubbing her head against me. She bit her lip and giggled at anything I said.

"Madeline, give Robin some space."

"Aw!"

Since Sara had found out I was a cop, she took some small mercy on me and didn't ask me to do anything forbidden with Madeline. She was an understanding master.

I was a grateful slave.

"It's okay," I said. "I don't mind holding her hand. Things like that are fine."

"See!" Madeline said. "Robin is my friend."

She smiled at me, a huge smile. I squeezed her hand and we walked.

There was nothing wrong with holding hands. Nor kisses, small kisses. Nor hugs. Sweet Madeline.

The other partygoers were fascinated with me. I was the novelty, the new toy. They wanted to touch and kiss, to hold and pet, always with Sara's permission. "She's so pretty," one woman said.

"What's her name?" asked a tall blond man in a tailored suit.

"Amber," Sara replied.

"Amber's a lovely name."

"Yes."

Everybody took a little pinch.

Lily, the woman hosting the party, brought forth a chair, a plain, straight-backed chair, and set it in the center of the room. "Sit here," she said.

I sat, feeling pretty and special. Then, while the crowd surrounded and leered at me, Lily undid the buttons of my blouse. "Let's see those lovely breasts." She freed them from my bra and saw the deep red welts. "Oh, I see Sara's been busy."

"Yes," I said.

A huge smile crossed my face. She squeezed my nipples, rolling them between her fingers.

I glanced across the room to the couch where Madeline sat. She looked back with a wistful stare. Then, the tall man in the suit came, sat beside her, and put his arm around her shoulders. Her smile deepened and she turned to him. I looked away.

Next, Lily said, "So, Sara, do you plan to share your lovely little slave with us?"

The crowd closed in. Their attention shifted to Sara.

"You know what?" Sara said "I'm going to try something completely new."

There were a curious murmurs. "What's that?" "Something new?" "How so?" The crowd shifted.

"Yes. Something completely unheard of."

Lily said, "Now, whatever can you mean?"

"I'm gonna let Amber decide. Amber, would you like to be shared among my friends?"

The crowd turned to me. They came forward, closer to me, with hungry eyes.

I'd come for one reason, to find the persons who were killing the girls. Sara knew, I'd told her everything. Whatever else happened – she promised – whatever sex I had, was up to me.

I glanced to Sara. I wished very much I could talk to her alone, to ask her if they where here, the men she had told me about, the ones who always concerned her, who gave her that creepy feeling. The Painter and the Engineer.

I glanced at Madeline, I couldn't help it. By then, the man in the suit had his pants down. His cock stood erect, and she squatted next to him, leaning over his lap and sucking hard. Her cherry-red lips slid up and down his shaft. He gazed down on her, drawing his lip between his teeth. With his hand, he rubbed her bottom through her red velvet dress, coaxing her butt into the air.

Lucky bastard. I kinda wanted to kill him.

Then suddenly, Lily gave my right nipple a sharp pinch and brought my attention back to the leering crowd. "So, my little pumpkin," she said, "what will it be?"

I glanced back to Sara standing with her arms crossed, awaiting my response.

"I want Lily to spank me until I cry," I said. "Then, I want every single person at this party to put something in my mouth. Something wet."

The crowd seemed pleased.

"Even the boys?" Sara asked.

I glanced at the boys and their eager faces. Already, two had dropped their flies and pulled out stiff, veiny cocks.

"Sure," I said, "Even the boys."

"What a wonderful suggestion!" Lily said. But my eyes returned to Sara. She looked so proud.

The men, the terrible, creepy men of whom Sara had spoken, arrived late to the party. By then, I'd been fucked so many times in so many places that I didn't think I could even walk. All evening, my mouth had been filled again and again with cocks, cum, and spit. My ass has been fucked raw. A few had even fucked my pussy, when all my other holes were full.

I lay on the couch with my head in Madeline's lap – she cuddled and stroked me – while I watched my dear Sara get fucked in two holes, in her cunt by the one man still able to get a hard cock, and in the ass by Lily wearing a lovely tapered strap-on. Sara was riding them for all they were worth, bucking and crying out. Surrounding us, draped over the scattered furniture, the other partygoers were cast about, laying in little clusters. Every so often, one would squirm or moan for no evident reason. The fucking had been that good. Our bodies still quivered.

There was a loud knock on the door.

"Can someone get that," Lily cried out as her dildo went squish, squish, squish in Sara's ass.

One guy, bare assed, cock dangling, went and opened the door. He lurched back as two men entered. Everybody – save the man beneath Sara with his cock buried in her hole – noticed the men. The mood changed. Even Sara looked up. Her bucking slowed. Her moans flitted away. Lily kept pumping, but I could see that her heart was no longer in it.

"What's wrong?" the man on the bottom said.

"They've arrived," Sara replied, her voice flat. "The Painter and the Engineer."

I thought I could tell which was which. The first to enter, with his soft face and his deep brown eyes, with his tattered shirt and brown dungarees, was probably the Painter. As he strolled into the room, he cast about his gaze, seeming to pull in each detail. His eyes paused briefly on me. I saw a hint of curiosity.

Behind him came the Engineer. He was tall, sturdy, and blond. He wore a buttoned up white shirt, a pair of well-cut slacks, and laced boots. "Well, what have we here?" he said when he saw Sara, Lily, and their man.