On a normal day at the mall, there were two kinds of people who smiled at Nik and Raheem. First were old people and conservative types. To the old-fashioned folks, Nik and Raheem seemed like wholesome young folks. Nik's long skirt and Raheem's buttoned-down affect seemed reassuring to average businessman-types and grandmas.
The key to this undercover appeal is that they never looked like they were in costume. It would have been different if Nik's dress was covered in cherries and had a plunging neckline or if Raheem had parted his hair and brylcreamed it to his scalp. But they conservative and older types didn't feel mocked by Nik and Raheem. They were wrong, but they didn't know they were wrong, so they smiled.
Of course, there weren't many conservative types at the mall during the adults-only hours. There were tons of people with elaborate colourful tattoos, a few in fetish wear, but few who looked like Nik and Raheem. Most people gave them odd glances, as if they were far too tucked-in and buttoned-down to be at the adults-only mall.
But some people could see it immediately; this is the second group who smiled at them, the people who caught on to that indefinable thing that Rahmeem called the "balance beam." True, Nik and Raheem weren't in an elaborate costume, but they also weren't entirely sincere. They were
very slightly too put together
for them to be entirely believable.
The Hitch stand was a curtained-off portion of the walkway with a folding table in front that served as a desk with a bored-looking clerk behind it. Everything about it made it seem temporary and slightly cheap. The clerk was a short, skinny, dark-haired post-goth type with exciting brightly coloured makeup and a bubbly personality. She seemed to be the type to understand Raheem's balance beam, and she grinned broadly at the two of them when they approached. "Oh wow, you guys are fantastic. Are you both here to sign up, or just one of you?"
"Just me, please." Raheem said.
She handed him an iPad. "Okay, let me get you to fill out this questionnaire. Then we can have you behind the curtain to get assessed."
The goth-pixie clerk turned to Nik while Raheem was filling out the legal waivers. "Are you sure you don't want to sign up? We have some pretty great incentives for anyone who wants a brand new card." She giggled at this.
"What kind of incentives?"
"A pair of guys who are trying to raise their assessments are kneeling right behind this curtain. If you sign up right now, you can get one of them to eat you out." She grinned broadly. "One is my boyfriend David."
Nic raised an eyebrow.
The clerk was nearly bouncing up and down with excitement over this news. "I guarantee you'll like him; he is so good at eating pussy! But promise you'll give him five stars, all right? That way his dollar value on the card will go up."
"How long has David been back there, eating out every girl who signs up?"
"Almost all day this past Thursday, and again most of the day today. I got him in because I work here. Most of the other guys who want to get their assessments up will only get a slot for a few hours at a time."
"And you're not jealous of him eating all that pussy all day?"
The counter clerk giggled again. "I actually think it's super hot. And he's not just eating pussy; he sucks a lot of dick back there as well." She got a conspiratorial look and stage-whispered "If there's no one at the counter, I usually go and watch."
Nik was a bit unsettled by the way the world was changing. In her experience as a dominatrix, someone who wanted to kneel for hours and then beg to eat pussy would normally pay hundreds of dollars for the privilege. Here was a guy getting it for free. If these cards caught on, she wondered if she would be out of business. "A tempting offer, but I still think I'll pass," she said.
Because Nik and Raheem had done the research in advance, Raheem knew what to choose on the electronic questionnaire and was behind the curtain with the assessor within ten minutes.
It was a roomy space, larger than it seemed from the outside. Apparently, sometimes people needed to wait to be seen by the assessor, or so it seemed given the half-dozen folding chairs in two rows. There was also a camera on a tripod, a striking woman with a short all-grey hairstyle holding an iPad, and two well-built naked men on their knees. These two, off to the side, were positioned under a sign taped to the wall that read "Oral only."
The older woman, presumably the assessor, greeted Raheem cheerfully. "Raheem, right? I have your file right here. No need to wait, it's been a pretty slow day."
"My girlfriend is outside," he said. "Can she be here for this? I was thinking I'd add that condition where she needs to be present to make sure no one breaks any of my conditions."
The woman nodded. "I understand. A lot of people are signing up for that condition these days. She would need to have her own card for that, though."
Raheem poked his head out of the curtain. "Nik, looks like you need to get a card after all," he said.
"Oh goody!" The clerk said clapping. "David's the one with the long hair. Don't forget: five stars!"
Within minutes, Nik and Raheem were both behind the curtain, having completed the initial questionnaire.
The assessor handed them both Hitch-branded cards with no embossing. "These are temporary; you'll get the personalized one in the mail within five to ten business days. Just so you know, if you leave before you're assessed, your card is set with the minimum dollar value which is $1 equals I hour, with a 50% chance that you will have to pay with your body."
"Oh wow. That's really bad." Raheem said.
