Chapter 04
The Rescue
Brooke went over the arrangements yet again making William recite his part to perfection. Something was bound to go wrong but with luck they could improvise and rescue Carlene from that bastard uncle of his, Freddy.
"We will succeed," William enthused.
"Like I just did for you?" she quipped.
"Eh?"
"Never mind, just go I've got to get ready," she sighed.
Brooke was in the shower washing off William's cum, thinking out loud. "Men are so thick when they're distracted by their penis. If only the uncle had been as pliable as his girlfriend, or William, Carlene wouldn't still be there and that bastard Freddy wouldn't have anything over me to keep me dancing around like his damn puppet."
If she could have used her body to distract the guards at Freddy's house she would have tried it already. The damn place was more like a fortified compound than a home but William had found a way in. Later tonight might be their only chance to free Carlene.
They had seduced and abused his girlfriend and breaking into his compound would add to Freddy's loss of face. Freeing her was only a part of the issue for he had contacts enough to find them and the retribution would be severe, if not deadly.
***
Taking a deep breath she entered the club as ordered. Brooke wondered what ordeal she would be forced to endure next. The stupid blonde bimbo they had toyed with hadn't been worth this much trouble, though she did feel a tinge of excitement mixed with the apprehension over this new adventure.
If her friend hadn't been held to ransom she just might have enjoyed the adventure; stepping into the unknown ready to obey a stranger. She too had limits, though not very clearly defined. She was no stranger to danger she lived for it and could cope with men or women, maybe turning them into accomplices to get her own way as she had William.
Having to keep her wits about her she avoided the bar. She was black in an all white male dominated club which sent a shiver through her despite the earlier bravado. At least they weren't bottled up red necks. They were a tough looking crowd maybe criminals like William's uncle, though that didn't stop the men ogling her body.
Brooke wore a white stretchy sheathe contoured to her curves, purposely exuding sex so as to seduce the next client. He could either be brought to heel or brought off quickly, it didn't matter which. A couple of heavyweight guys made a move on her reminding Brooke of that disgusting act around the Freddy's pool and she uncharacteristically froze.
She couldn't get the image of those big hulks, taking her every hole while Freddy watched, leaving her shaking and afraid. This fear thing was something new and she didn't like it one bit. Before she could recover a third man appeared between them. He put a hand on the two big men, looking as though he were resting his hands on shelves not shoulders, and leaned in on Brooke.
"You been sent over by Freddy?" he asked.
The friendly wink calmed her a little. At the mention of the bastards name the two hard cases shied off, moving surprisingly nimbly for such large predatory beasts.
"I'm the manager here," he explained. She glimpsed the blue card and sighed inwardly. The card meant she had to obey this man, unable to refuse whatever he wanted, while her friend was held prisoner at that damn compound by that bastard Freddy, William's uncle.
Why did it have to be the manager? She could be there to serve behind the bar but didn't think so. After what she had done to Freddy's girlfriend this was going to be a punishment, she was going to be taught a lesson. She couldn't dance, couldn't hold a tune but anyone could lie back and take it. Brooke could cope with a private one on one performance but here in this club she might be expected to become the entertainment.
Those two big brutes would be the least of her worries. This man could give her to anyone, maybe more than one. It had been made clear by that disgusting Freddy she was to obey absolutely whoever held the blue card or her friend would suffer. Freddy knew how to make a person suffer for brutality was his trade; he was a malicious gangster.
She would have to make sure this guy didn't complain or her friend would suffer. She was fully aware of the dire position she was in but with William turning up she thought it might be easier than imagined. No such luck now.
A big toothy smile failed to portray confidence rather it revealed anxiety and weakness. The nightmare was about to start after all, she was going to be that evil bastard Freddy's whore!
She followed the manager through the club into his office all the time hoping to regain enough confidence to seduce him. It was imperative she pleased him, not just to save her friend a punishment but to save herself from the worst his imagination could conjure up.
He waved a hand meaning for her to stand in front of the desk while he took a seat. He swivelled around examining her from head to toe. Her head hung low, avoiding looking at him, while trying to regain the usual charm.
"Let's take a look at you then," he said, meaning for her to look up at him.
"Yes, sir," she responded, knowing this was a time to play the submissive card. It would do no good cajoling him for he ran a seriously heavy club and had already shown how he could handle those heavies. So nervous was she his demand was interpreted as something more than for her to look at him.
She peeled the hem of the tight white dress up her body, already revealing the outlines of a voluptuous figure, to expose a tiny thong. Peeling it higher she struggled to pull it off over her head it was so tight. She stood before him pulling at her hair, feeling very naked. Often she wore no underwear for the sheer devilment of it but this was different.
He looked at her professionally assessing her assets, not revealing the slightest surprise at her mistake when she stripped off. "You must owe him a lot of money or some very big favour," he commented. "You're an amateur aren't you," he added, when she refused to answer.
The amateur jibe she took to mean she was too shy to remove the underwear. The guy continued to appraise her body waiting her out. Relenting to his patience she unclipped the bra dropping it onto the floor with the dress. The thong was designed not to show under the figure hugging dress and it too was a struggle to remove.
He stared at her large breasts then seemingly satisfied stared right between her legs at a neatly shaved pussy. The professionalism of that look meant there wasn't the slightest chance of seducing him for he was too used to handling scantily clad dancers, entertainers and probably whores too.
The feeling of defeat was creeping over her despite the monumental effort at maintaining a last shred of confidence.
He didn't need her to strip off for what she was going to do but he wasn't complaining. "So, do you know what you are here for?" he asked casually.
"What, what ever you want me for, sir" she stammered, with a whisper of a voice. The pathetic sound of her own voice made her realise how nervous she was. Brooke tried to make it sound as though she was there for him and only him but knew he wasn't interested in the hired help.
She was going to be used to entertain the customers. Who was she kidding she was there to fuck whoever he wanted her to fuck and they both knew it. She had played around like a naughty slut but to become this man's whore was devastating. She would have to pretend to enjoy it too just to get a good report with that bastard Freddy. One false move and Carlene would feel it from a whip or much worse.
Anyone else would have burst into tears in abject sorrow by now but she had been in bad situations before and always turned them to her advantage. There was still some hope of getting out of this.
"I have a special guest in tonight you will entertain. Make sure you please them as Freddy specifically told me to report on your behaviour," he started to say.
'Why do men always want to lecture me,' she wondered. At least it looked as though it would be just the one, unless the client was perverse. Maybe he liked to watch others fuck her. The sudden thought of animals made her shiver.
He took it as a sign of her inexperience, but before he could continue a knock sounded loud on the door. It swung open admitting a tall confident woman. She was dressed conservatively with an expensive set of pearls draped around her neck. The dress was designed exclusively for her confirming the look of class and money.
Brooke looked down at the cheap screwed up nylon sheath that was her dress and almost laughed at the pathetic situation she was in.
"Hmm, nice," the woman said.
"Hi Dorothy, nice to see you, how are you, I'm fine. So that's the pleasantries over with shall we get down to business?" he asked, without her saying a word.
"You know me too well, darling," she smiled grimly. "Is this it," she said, nodding toward Brooke.
"Yes. I haven't had a chance to brief her yet," he said.
"Debriefed her I see!" she chuckled, with a smokers rasp. "No need, I'll take charge of the little tramp," she said.
"Get dressed," he said, sounding bored with them both.
The woman was middle aged, a tough character, looking like a Disney villainess. Brooke was sure the woman had a long cigarette holder somewhere in the large bag she carried. Realising she had been spoken to she reached for her clothes.
