CHAPTER ONE: Trouble With the Mob and Make Over
"What the hell are you talking about?" She asked wiping his cum from her pussy.
I said thanks for the worst piece-of-ass I've ever had," Alan repeated.
She laughed throwing the wet towel into his face. With a tiny dick and less than thirty seconds in the saddle, you ought to think before you speak, you SOB.
"You bitch, you're gone too far." He jumped out of the bed as she pulled her dress over her head. She heard him coming, dropped on her back and kick both legs into his groin. He fell to the floor howling, as he took both feet in the balls.
"You dumb bastard. Don't you think, I've dealt with stupid assholes like you before?"
As he lay writhing in pain. Melinda put on her shoes, grabbed her coat, and went t is trousers, took his wallet, emptied it into her purse, and ambled from the room. She hurried to the stairs, took off her heels, and ran.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, in his pink Cadillac, she was regaling her pimp, Jose Juarez, an account of her encounter with Sam Leonard, the right-hand man of Big Jim Frullo.
"That's funny as hell Mel, but to save your ass, I'm sending you on vacation. Where should you go? I've got lots of friends in El Paso." Jose rose on his hands, pulled his pants down exposing his long, thick dick.
"I don't want to go to El Paso.," Melinda said, "Shut up and suck my Mexican dick." He took her by the hair, suck!"
Melinda got on her knees and took his cock in her mouth. She bobbed up and down on his erection.
"God Melanie you've got a great mouth."
She bit his dick hard.
He screamed in agony.
Melinda grabbed his pistol and pointed at the startled driver. If you want to live, stop this car and pull this Hispanic prick out of the car.
He slammed on the breaks.
Melinda crashed into the front seat, but as she fired the pistol hitting the driver in the right shoulder.
The car rolled to a stop against a curb.
She was jolted but recovered smashing the Hispanic pimp in the face. I'm in bad shit, I've pissed off the Mafia and injured Jose. My life's not worth a plugged nickel. She walked to the cruiser just arriving at the scene.
"Officer, I surrender." She held out her hands. The guns in my purse."
"What are you talking about lady? Have you committed a crime?"
"Yes, two, one against the mob and the other against a Hispanic pimp and his driver." Melinda stood with her hands in front of her.
"Get in the back seat," the officer said.
* * *
He made a phone call driving north along Michigan Avenue. He turned left onto Ohio Street, pulled into a driveway, and into a garage.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Melinda yelled.
"Saving your ass," a strong baritone voice said. " Now get out and into the house. I'll see you in a couple of hours."
Two women hurried into the garage, took Melinda by the arms and hustled her firmly but carefully into the house.
She was astonished by the way she was handled, and the look of the house. What looked like a shack on the outside, was a palace inside. The walls were white except for a red accent wall at the far end of the room. The floors were covered in a matching red carpet, and all the furniture was of the latest fashions. The two women who ushered Melanie into the house were wearing nursing scrubs, blue rubber gloves, and Nike running shoes.
The taller of the two led Melanie to the bathroom. Take a shower and put on the clothing I'll put in here as you shower.
Melanie showered, dried, and dressed. The green dress left for her fit like a glove. Her braless breasts showed prominently through the material, as did her shape and a heart-shaped ass. She strolled into the main room with a white towel around her hair and head.
"You are one voluptuous lady, the taller woman said. I'm Brenda, and this is Karen. We've been assigned to care for you until He gets here."
Who's He?" Melinda asked. "And how did you pick a dress that fits me so well?"
"He will give his name, and among other things, we are stylists and experts in women's clothing. "Are you hungry or thirsty? You've been through a great deal in the past few hours," Karen said removing the towel from Melinda's head.
"Yes, I'd like something to eat and drink."
Brenda used a cell phone and said "breakfast." Brenda asked."
Melinda nodded positively.
Okay, that will take fifteen or twenty minutes. In the meantime, Karen will go to work on your hair, and I'll fix your nails.
The women went about their tasks professionally.
They stopped when the food was delivered, through a service window, to allow Melinda to eat.
"Can you guys tell me what's going on? Why am I not in jail? Why are you dressed in nursing scrubs?"
"You not in jail because He wanted you alive, and we're dressed this way to reduce the possibility in case this gig goes bad," Brenda said.
Melinda ate with relish. She didn't know she was so hungry. The OJ was cold with an excellent taste. After one bite of the scrambled eggs, she asked, "These eggs are super and have an uncommon flavor, why is that?"
The eggs are scrambled with Crème Brule the way He likes them." Karen continued fixing Melinda's hair.
"He guy must be something the way you talk about him."
"He is what he is, and he's every woman's dream," Brenda said getting up from the floor having finished painting Melinda's toenails in flaming red. She changed gloves and began on her fingernails when she finished eating.
"But He was in a cop's uniform and car. How can He be so special?"
"You'll find out for yourself soon enough." Karen finished with her hair, changed gloves, and began making up her face.
Within two hours of showing, Melinda was clothed, fed, and had her hair and nails done.
Karen gave her a mirror.
"Melanie was shocked, she'd never seen herself look so beautiful. "You two are magicians, I've never looked this good in my entire life. My face is perfect, and the flaming red lipstick wants me to want to kiss myself," she giggled.
Melinda was given a four-inch pair of black shoes and Brenda had her sit on a stool and took pictures from the front and back and both profiles.
She was shown the pictures.
"You guys have made me into Ms. America."
CHAPTER TWO: Making Love
There was a rhythmic knock on the door, Brenda and Karen disappeared.
The door opened. In walked a tall, handsome man dressed in black chinos and a black mock turtleneck shirt.
Melinda surveyed him carefully: rippled stomach muscles and well-toned arms. "You must be He," she cooed almost in awe of the male in front of her.
He grinned and laughed quietly. "I see the ladies have followed my instructions. You're more beautiful than your pictures. He spoke in that baritone voice that caused shivers to run up and down her spine. "I suppose you are wondering what is happening to you?"
Taking her hand, he led her into another room that was painted in the same colors as the others, and it contained a couch and two Lazy Boy chairs. He guided her to one of the chairs and sat in the one opposite her.
"My name is Rod Inman. I'm the director of a special task force to deal with female slavery. This house is my operations center, and you've met two of the staff."
Melinda held up her hand, "Who's behind your special task force, what were you doing in a police cruiser by yourself, and why am I not in jail, since I'm a prostitute."
"Good insightful questions. I'm glad you're a bright blond. To answer your questions: the federal government. I have unique authority and abilities, and you're not in jail because I/we need you alive. You would not have lived a day in a Chicago jail."
"Why?" She leaned forward exposing a little cleavage.
"You know and understand how the Mafia works, and you've been in the business. The mob wants you dead because of what you know and what you've done."
"Me, I'm that important?" Melinda asked.
"Yes, you should be tired. I suggest you get some sleep and we can continue our discussion tomorrow," Rod said.
"I don't usually go to be this early, but I'd like to go to bed with you?"
* * *
"If we go to bed together, we will make love and not fuck." Rod got up and went to another door, opened it, and held out his hand invitingly.
Melanie smiled stood and strutted to him with her breasts bouncing in the rhythm of her pace. She took his hand, "I can't remember the last time I made love with someone."
He pulled her into his arms kissing her smoothly. "You won't forget this time."
"I hope you're a man of your word." Melanie walked into the room. It was a bedroom. The double bed was on one side, and the other contained a wet bar and a couch. The walls were white except for the accent wall at the head of the bed which was red as was the carpet. She stopped short when she noticed the mirrors on the walls and ceiling. "Wow," she indicated the mirrors, "I've never watched myself being fucked before except on video."
"You've never watched yourself being made love too. Would you like a drink?" Rod said moving to the wet bar.
"Do you have Moscato?"
"Yes," he reached for a bottle and poured two flutes full before handing the wine to Melanie and sitting on the couch.
They took a sip and stared at each other.
