Synopsis: Jim and Bette have enlisted Sandra and Jeff to attend the swing parties at Satin Studios. During the latest party, one of the call girls (who works part of the time at Carol's direction) tells Jim what she knows of the true nature of Satin Studio's business. Jim has left her and is looking for Carol to demand an explanation.
Chapter 9: On the Job Training
Steve and Carol were in the office. Steve was seated at a small electronic console watching a TV screen, while Carol watched over his shoulder. Steve grinned sheepishly when he saw me. "I was going to tell you about this later," he said, "but since you're here, take a look."
I peered over his shoulder. I was mildly shocked -- but not surprised -- to see Bette and Sandy writhing through the final stages of their performance.
"That's only part of it," Steve said. "How do you like this?" He nodded toward the screen while he twisted a dial and flipped two switches. The scene abruptly shifted from the stage to the audience. This time he focused on two shadowy figures in the corner.
"We had better tape this," he said quietly to Carol. The camera's eye sharpened and brought into fine detail one man sucking another. A zoom lens brought the fellator's face into clear focus, even recording his five o'clock shadow. It was Carmine, his mouth stuffed with Jeff's swollen member. The optics were so good that the veins in that glistening sword, even the hairs surrounding it, were clearly visible.
I felt a sudden chill. Even though I only suspected that Carmine was linked to the Mob, I felt certain that if that tape ever left this room, we could all be in serious, perhaps even mortal, danger. "Christ!" I burst out. "What's the matter with you people! Are you crazy? If he's who I think he is, and if he even knew such a tape existed, we could be in terrible danger!"
"I doubt it," Steve drawled. "Of course, it's a gamble, but we have good odds." His face was solemn as he studied my reaction. Then he said, "Here. I'll show you what I mean. Watch the screen." He shuffled though some tapes, found what he wanted, and slipped it into the player. The screen lit up.
He had taped last Friday's meeting. The camera was above and slightly in front of me. The scene it displayed was focused so tightly that it appeared that Carmine and I were alone.
Carmine was speaking. "And as our legal adviser here, what do you say? Morals be damned. Personally, I don't give a shit what side of the law we're on as long as we stay out of jail!"
And then, there I was, looking him in the eye, smiling a smug lawyerly smile, and saying smoothly, "Don't worry. Nobody's going to jail. Even if worst came to worst, the prosecution would be in no position to take us to court!"
The scene faded. Steve looked at me.
I was stunned. A sharp physical pain shot through my stomach, and I felt the blood drain from my face. Those few words, intended merely to describe the equitable doctrine of `clean hands', taken out of context, might convince any jury that I possessed criminal intent. In an instant, my career was in jeopardy.
"Carol, get Jim a drink. He looks like he needs one." Then to me, Steve added, "Sit down, Jim. Don't take things so hard. Nothing has changed. I just wanted you to see why Carmine isn't going to hurt anybody."
Carol came back carrying a stiff bourbon/water. "If that's not strong enough. . ." she said tentatively.
I gratefully gulped half the glass's contents. The whiskey burned a comforting path down my throat. Almost immediately, I felt better. "I don't understand," I said. "I thought we were business associates -- partners, even. Partners don't blackmail each other."
Steve sighed. "Sad to say, Jim, in this business they do. You see," he continued, "when you function, as we do, on the edge of an unstable and hypocritical public's idea of morality and government's shifting notions of tolerance, you can't afford to take chances. In this business, trusting anyone without taking back collateral is foolish to the point of being suicidal."
I hated to concede the point, but I couldn't argue with his logic. "Where does that leave us?" I asked.
Steve pulled a side chair around to face me and sat inches away. Carol sat quietly behind the desk. "We -- you and us -- know how the public sees us; we've already talked about that. But now, the main thing is that we need to understand each other.
"I've been rehearsing this speech all week," he said. "This is the way I see it." He paused for a moment. His solemn face was thoughtful. "You're a nice guy, Jim. You're pleasant, smart, educated, and you seem to share our attitude toward sex. You wouldn't be here today," he went on, "if we thought otherwise.
"In short, you could be a great partner," he said slowly. "The only thing is," he added, "we don't know how tough you are. That's what we need to find out.
"I know swinging preachers who are even more idealistic than you," he continued, "but most of them will cut and run at the first sign of trouble. I need someone beside me who won't.
"The question now is, are you willing to take the necessary chances a business like this requires? We're not manufacturing auto parts, you know. Face it. We operate in an environment where we knowingly skirt the law most of the time. That's why we think it's important to find out what you're made of.
"I know you won't like it, and I'll be frank with you; If word about this test should leak out, I expect you would be in serious trouble. On the other hand, it's not too late, even now, even knowing what you do about me and that," he gestured toward the console, "to back out.
"If you want to put things back where they were, just say so. I have enough confidence in your integrity that I'll even give you the tape you just saw. We'll shake hands, and never see each other again."
His voice took on a deeper tone. "On the other hand, if you decide to stay, you know you'll be putting your balls firmly in our hands. What will it be?"
My mind raced in a circle. Common sense argued that I could spend the rest of my life comfortably drafting wills and probating estates; that I could grow old fussing with codicils and interpreting testamentary intent. My gonads, on the other hand, urged me to spit in convention's eye, throw away my carefully constructed career plan, and plunge headlong into a world of XXX videos, of cocks and cunts, pussy and playboys, swingers and porno queens.
It isn't every day a man has to face hard truths about himself as Steve was forcing me to do. For the first time, I understood and began to sympathize with those lawyers whose careers are spent serving organized crime as house counsel. For most of them, the lure was undoubtedly the power and excitement the job entailed, compared to the alternative boredom of a routine law practice.
Although some Puritans might disagree, I'm not an amoral person. I couldn't work for organized crime, for instance, partly because I find profit based on human misery repugnant, partly because large sums of money have no particular appeal, and finally because, quite frankly, I knew I lacked the stomach for it.
Steve's proposition, on the other hand, offered endless, harmless sexual excitement and ultimately, a possibility of shaping community values toward more realistic sexual attitudes.
"This is a big decision," I said. "Could I have five minutes to discuss it with Bette?"
Carol spoke for the first time. "I'm afraid not," she said. "This has to be your decision. What will it be?"
I took a deep breath and made, what was for me, an irrevocable commitment. I was to lose count, in the days that followed, of the number of times I bitterly regretted that decision.
"Yes," I said quietly, "I'm in."
Steve's grin broadened. "Wonderful," he said. "But just remember," he added, his smile fading, "I now have your balls firmly in my hands."
"And mine," Carol chimed in. Looking at me levelly, she added, "Your first assignment is to turn Bette and Sandy out."
"Turn them out?" I asked stupidly.
"Yes," she said impatiently, "make 'em go out and peddle their cute little tails. Turn them into call girls, put them on the street; get them into an escort agency. I don't care. Just make 'em go out and trick for you."
