Whatever It Takes Pt 08

Pt. 08 – Wednesday Late Afternoon

This is another part to the story of a beautiful American businesswoman (Elaine) who comes to Jamaica to relax and eventually ends up working in an island whorehouse to pay off a debt. The story began when her husband, Paul, and she arrived on a weekend to relax and enjoy time together before Paul left on a business trip that will require him to spend several days visiting other Caribbean islands (Pt. 01) While he was gone, Elaine intended to relax and enjoy the sea, sun, and surf at their resort. She had not intended to leave the security of the resort and be exposed to the violent crime and brutal treatment of women for which the island of Jamaica is known.

However, on Monday (Pt. 02) she had been duped into leaving the resort. Then she had been drugged and gang raped, as well as publically and sexually humiliated in front of several prominent native island residents. To make matters infinitely worse, she had been photographed and videoed during the series of rapes and humiliations.

Elaine has learned (Pt. 04) that she has pay in cash and "services" to recover those photographs and videos. There is a time constraint imposed on the payment process since it must be completed prior to her husband returning to Jamaica. Otherwise her secure life as a banker, new-mother, and wife could end abruptly, if and when, the high resolution digital images of the acts she performed were distributed to her husband, family, and employer.

Eventually (Pt. 06) Elaine reconciled to working as a whore and delivering multiple paid client "service sessions" that included the full range of oral, anal, and vaginal sex. The experiences were degrading, but she remains committed to doing whatever it takes to pay of her "debt" and recover the incriminating images of her having sex with multiple partners while under the influence of alcohol and drugs.

Her total starting debt amounted to $10,000. So far, she had accumulated credits of almost $4,000 but still must work off the remaining $6,000. Most importantly, she learned that fucking and sucking one "client" at a time was labor intensive, hard slow work. Going forward, she would have to provide more and higher value services to clients in less elapsed time per transaction. A decision that she knew would steer her into more bizarre sex acts with a range of degenerate clients...but a girl has to do what a girl has to do.

In this episode (Pt. 08), Elaine starts to develop a strategy that could enrich her if she could work a deal to provide services to the criminal organization that has entrapped her, services that might include money laundering, opportunities to invest in legitimate businesses, and providing access to networks of bank clients, contacts, and referrals...all of which she would and could provide if the price was right. Time will tell if she chooses to proceed with this strategy.

To date, the major characters in this story are the following:

Elaine Farrell - the gorgeous, busty American business woman who is the central focus of the story (for details on Elaine read Pt. 01); she intends to do whatever it takes to survive and protect herself and her family;;

Paul Farrell - Elaine's husband who is a brilliant, well-compensated engineer who is currently on business visiting other islands;

Michael - a rapist and recruiter for a premier set of island whorehouses who delighted in humiliating and sexually abusing Elaine;

Patrick – The man who manages a range of illegal enterprises on Jamaica and is reputed to be linked to American business enterprises, both legal and illegal;

if Elaine elects to link up with the shadowy crime organization that controls the whorehouse then Patrick is the one person that Elaine must convince of her sincerity, willingness to do whatever it takes, and utility to a criminal enterprise, a course that, once begun, will be dangerous and has no guarantee of success;

Mack - a bartender at the resort who works for Patrick, assisted to drug Elaine, and participated in her rapes;

Heather MacDonald - a friend to Elaine and Paul who appears to be a vapid beach bunny but is in reality a tough ex-marine who is investigating financial irregularities at the resort where Elaine and Paul are staying; currently in Miami reporting to her father who is the principal owner of that resort;

Jessie McKinnon - an American prostitute working her trade in Jamaica and assigned by Patrick as Elaine's mentor with the duty to integrate Elaine as fast as possible into the cash generation process of fucking and sucking for money; Jessie despises Elaine, correctly believing that Elaine holds Jessie and her profession in contempt;

Randy - the manager of the whorehouse who works for Patrick; negotiates prices with clients, collects money, and tracks the amount of credits that Elaine earns; regards Elaine as an asset and intends to maximize the return on that asset;

Jason (nicknamed "Animal")- controls the whores through intimidation and violence when required; also ensures that the johns do not damage the whores whose services the organization sells;

Danelle Accardi - also a 'workout girl' trapped into working as a whore at The Dolls' House; Ph.D. on the faculty of the University of Virginia; maybe a friend to watch Elaine's back, and then again maybe not...

; and

Shelley Hendricks – yet another 'workout girl' forced into sexual bondage to work off a "debt"; in just one or two day due to close out her debt and have it marked paid-in-full; entertains the notion of turning her experiences in a whore house into a documentary film and selling it; suffers from Stockholm Syndrome and believes Patrick is an innocent victim of racial oppression and poverty rather than a willful rapist and criminal.

WHATEVER IT TAKES:

WORKING OUT A DEBT IN JAMAICA -

WEDNESDAY LATE AFTERNOON

Sex Shooter

No girl's body can compete with mine

No girl's rap can top my lines

No girl's kiss can ring your chimes

Come on boy, let's make some time

I'm a sex shooter

Shootin' love in your direction...

Written by Prince for the all-girl rock band, Apollonia 6 who included it in their first album.

(Author's Note: I read and appreciate the comments of readers. Please keep those comments coming. One thread in particular runs through the comments – several readers have advised me to accelerate release of story parts. My response is that I am doing that as best I can. However, my day job is very intense and involves extensive travel during which I am unable to focus on anything but work and staff morale.)

WEDNESDAY – The Story Continues...

Back in reception, I slid up to the bar. Randy slapped a bourbon shot in front of me. I asked for a diet coke instead. He put the coke in front of me but did not remove the bourbon.

He explained, "You will want the bourbon as well. Life is better here through the prism of an alcoholic cloud."

"I need to see Patrick."

Randy looked at me thoughtfully. "Why?"

"I have been thinking about what you said about this organization. I think I can add some value to that organization and in doing make some money for both of the organization and myself. . Lord knows I should have a payoff for all I have done and will do in this place – just so you all can pay bonuses, bribes, and taxes to a parent corporation."

"Two things. You never heard anything from me. Not at all. Talkers can end up dead around here. Second – do you know what you are doing? If you go back stateside and are called upon to do 'favors' then you are moving from being a tourist in hell to being a one of the devils that work there. Two very different things. You may well have the guts and brains to succeed, but why bother. You have it all now – husband, high-paying job, new baby – why take the risk?"

"Money," was my answer. "Also respect. I work in a mostly male world, and I am tired of having to fake respect to superiors that think they are God's gift to banking and to everyone that has a pair of tits. Anyway I am not thinking of changing careers, just making some non-taxable money on the side. I think I deserve the opportunity to do that in return for all the men that I have had to service here."

"OK. I will try to set you up with Patrick. But remember that you thought all this up yourself and that I did not either inform or encourage your quest for employment with the organization."

"Got it. Try to make it happen today. OK?"

"No guarantees. Patrick has more important things to do than talk to cum-buckets even ones that are high class like you."

"Thanks, Randy. You sure know how to flatter women."

"My thanks will be a class A blow job to be collected when I have the time to savor the feeling."

"Whatever!" was all I said in response.

In my mind I was convinced that I had to push to work for these guys. There were for two major reasons to do so. Money was one, but there was a second and even more important reason – if I left here knowing only what I know now, then I would be vulnerable forever to blackmail and pressure from Patrick and his cronies and associates. What I needed to do was to learn more about Patrick and his affiliated organizations so that I at least a modicum of a chance to ward off downstream blackmail by the threat of releasing what I knew to the authorities...sort of a mutually assured destruction if either of us pushed too hard on the other. But to achieve that security, I would have to get past Patrick and penetrate his organization and as well as whatever criminal enterprises he worked with or for. At a minimum that would require me to not make waves and 'cheerfully and competently' act as a loyal cum-bucket that did not make waves.

I was still mulling over how to move forward with that thought when I saw Shelley Jamison sitting by herself at a table and went over and sat with her. Shelley had changed from her earlier outfit of lace top and silk pants; now it was a sheer chemise that skimmed her derriere with a low V-neck and a black thong and no bra underneath – a very sexy combination.

"Shelley, how is it going? Must feel good to be a short timer."

"Elaine, I want to get out of here tomorrow or the next day, but I may be short on credits." I remembered she needed a couple of thousand to make her quota and have her debt cleared. I also thought that Randy and Patrick were stalling her credit generation opportunities for reasons of their own. "Maybe you can help me – and help yourself."

Without giving it the second thought that it deserved, I responsed, "Hey, whatever I can do. What do you need?"

"We can get extra credits for a 'two-fer.'"

"Which is what?"

"Two girls – me and you – one guy, maybe two. We are both blondes with big boobs. It is a natural. They pay more; we work less."

"So how do we set this up?" I was hesitant since it sounded like an orgy where things could get out of control

"I'll talk to Randy. He mentioned it to me earlier while you were upstairs. Probably take some time to set up so just work the trade in the meantime." She got up and went over to the bar to talk to Randy.

At that time a man came over to the table, showed me his ticket to ride. He said nothing, only pointed up the stairs. I went off with him before Shelley go back so I did not know at that time what the prospects for a 'two-fer' were.

#10 17:00-17:25; credit $300; tip $0; no photo rights; cumulative $4,195; to go $5,805.

The next john wore a white suit, almost like he stepped out of the old Bogart movie

Casablanca

. He looked Slavic and turned out to be a UN bureaucrat down here to review some economic development project. While I put the KY on my channel, he sat down clothed on the only chair in the room.

In heavily accented English, he said, "Hurry up, I don't have all day."

I came closer to him and knelt down between his legs. I reached up to unfasten his belt, pants, and zipper. He lifted his butt off of the chair enough for me to slide the pants down below his knees. I noticed his uncircumcised penis was at half salute, forming a rainbow arc down to his left nut. His penis looked healthy enough so I put some KY on it. The touch of my hand brought some stiffness as it advanced from half-mast to three quarters erect.

"Dance around. Get me hard."

I started to sway to inaudible music, trying to will his penis to full attention. I went from cupping my breasts to bending over with my back to him to give him a butt plus pussy view. His penis stiffened some more. I kept dancing and stuck two of my fingers into my vagina, pulled them out, and then licked them slowly. He stiffened some more. I pinched my nipples, and he became almost completely hard, the tip of his penis poking through the foreskin. Then I put my hands boldly under each breast and pointed them right at his face, and he backed up in the chair a bit, with his penis twitching at its fullest and hardest. Now I had him where I wanted him, just in time because I was tired of gyrating in my birthday suit and putting a lot of effort into a measly $300 transaction.

"Kiss it!"

I quickly knelt down in front of him and grabbed his cock with my right hand and his small balls with my left. Whatever I was doing must have been what he wanted as he began to moan and bounce on the chair. I vacillated in thought between the fantasy of squeezing and mashing the man's vulnerable nuts, and the curiosity of the man's cock with a foreskin, the likes of which I had never seen before except as a sheath on a domesticated animal. I pinched, tugged and experimented with pulling the foreskin away from the head and touching, stroking and squeezing his cockhead. I paid close attention to his reaction, wanting him to cum as soon as possible.

"Put your mouth on it."

I knelt up higher, swallowed deeply with disgust, opened my mouth a bit, and slowly put my lips around it. Then he said, "No, wait. I want you to stand here at my side when you do it."

I stood, bent, and grabbed his cock at the base with my left-hand and cupped his balls with my right. I repeated the same ritual of disgust in getting my lips to the tip, noticing an acrid male smell wafting from his loins. When I finally rallied the nerve to put this strange man's cock in my mouth, he closed his eyes and accelerated his breathing.

I noticed the texture more than the taste at first. I swirled my tongue all around to explore the raised and lowered parts, the wrinkled and the smooth, the head texture versus the shaft, and his reaction to the area just below the helmet on the underside. It surprised me when I felt his right hand begin to explore the area between my legs.

The man's touch was rough and crude like he was playing with a new toy without consulting the manual. Then his left hand started to work on my hanging tits. I just stared into nothingness frozen in a trance, as he assaulted my 36DDs. I was shaken from my trance when he grabbed my head and forced it into his lap. I had to deep breathe deep to avoid chocking as his dick went into my mouth and seemed to grow fatter and longer as it did so. I started to work my mouth on his cock in the hope that he would cum so I would not have to fuck him. Nothing. I started to suck it. The man moaned and pinched a nipple.

I started adding kneading his balls and moving my hand up and down on his cock from base to tip. The man put his hand back on my cunt. "Now we're rolling again." I thought to myself. The man started taking the surplus KY from my cunt and working them up to my anus. As he got my ass hole more and more slippery, the man worked a finger in back there. When he tried to put in another, I winced in pain and said with as much groveling as I could muster, I said "Please no more fingers."

"Well, Bitch, its time to put my dick there." He said in a way that left no room for discussion.

"Get my whole cock really juiced up. Leave as much juice from your mouth as you can, stand in front of me, and back yourself down onto it. Better get to it, you are running out of my time. I'm not going to tell you again."

"You didn't pay for anal sex, ass hole. Don't push it, or I will have your sorry ass thrown out of here."

"Stupid bitch. I am a good customer here and will be back many times long after you have left. I know your situation, Little Miss Banker. If I want it up your ass, you will take it up your ass while singling Yankee Doodle if I want. Now get moving."

I hesitated, but not for long. I was afraid of starting trouble so I went along. I put my mouth all the way down on his now purple cock and gagged when it hit the back of my throat. My gag reflex must have sent exquisite sensations to the man's brain, as his eyes and head rocked back. Then I stood in front of him and backed up toward his cock with my legs apart and hands on my upper thighs. I took my right hand and guided his cock into my vagina while his eyes were still closed. I pumped him up and down until he opened his eyes and gave me a stinging slap to her right cheek.

"Wrong hole, bitch. Can't you tell your ass hole from your cunt?"

Quickly, I pulled his dick out and placed the crown at the opening of my anus and tried to push. It was too tight. I spit in my hand and drooled it on the crown and tried again. Still too tight.

"Times 'a wasting, Bitch." Then he slapped my ass. In response, I slammed down hard and used my hand to push the tip painfully past my sphincter. There was not enough lubricant. I reached over and got more KY that I spread on his dick. Sensing that would do the trick, I pushed all the way down and skewered myself to the hilt. There was some pain, but I breathed through the pain. I pulled off until just the tip stayed in, and then impaled herself again. As I repeated this over and over, faster and faster, the pain diminished but did not disappear. I started to rub his balls, anything to get him to cum.

I was startled when he pushed hard on my shoulder blades, nearly sending me careening onto the floor. "Not yet, bitch. I want to end this in your cunt, not your shit hole. Turn around, and let's end this face-to-face, really intimate." The last two words were dripping with sarcasm.

It was more degrading to do it face-to-face, like lovers rather than as if we were a sexworker and a client. I obeyed, opening my legs until they were wider than his then sat on his lap and played with his cock which was between us. I wrapped my fingers around it and began to slowly masturbate him, reaching down with my other hand to gently rub his balls. The guy played with my breasts with one hand and inserted two fingers from the other in my pussy and ground around down there. He shifted his weight so that my feet reached the floor on either side. He lifted me off his lap, positioned me, and the pulled my down on to his prick. He did it all slowly and stared at the point of penetration and watched his organ disappear into me. He used his hands on my breasts to guide me like the reins on a horse.

In went the head and the rest, inch by inch. He then let me do it at my pace and enjoyed himself as I worked him into me. Finally, his whole prick was buried in my vagina. He told me to "go up and down." I gathered my legs on the floor for leverage and began to move up and down. I did all the work, leveraging my body up and then sliding down onto him Based on his grunts of approval, I was making him very happy. He looked me directly in the eyes during the process, mauling my breasts as he did so. Facing each other in a sitting position somehow gave a greater sense of intimacy. Because I was doing all the moving, the burden was on me to bring him off. I sensed that he had chosen this position because he could sit and watch me do all the work; also, this position made it hard to bring his climax quickly. I really had to work to get as much of him into me as I could on the down stroke, and I squeezed down on him with my cunt muscles as hard as I could – using muscles I didn't know I had until I got here in a whorehouse.