WHITE SPRUCE Chapter 4
Nicole had me over for dinner three days later. It was my day off, while she had worked, so I suggested that she let me play host.
- "Nope. My treat. You can invite me over another time."
- "I will."
- "You'd better."
Nicole wasn't a great cook, by her own admission, but she made a very nice pasta dish with a creamy sauce and plenty of mushrooms. I insisted on helping her clean up. Then we took our drinks over to the couch, and Nicole cued up a movie. I'd chosen a romantic comedy, figuring that she might like that.
She had her hand on my leg before the opening credits had finished rolling. Ten minutes into the movie, she had my zipper undone and her hand in my underwear. She fished out my erection, and instructed me to slide my pants down.
Nicole treated me to another tremendous blowjob. This time she lay across my lap, with her back to me. Once again she'd worn track pants with nothing under them. I was able to push them down over her ass, and then play with her pussy. This time, Nicole came on my fingers before I unloaded in her mouth.
We had to laugh: we'd paid so little attention to the movie that we had no idea what was going on, or who was who. Nicole solved our little dilemma by turning off the movie and taking me to bed.
The disparity in our heights made some positions difficult, and some activities - such as 69 - impossible. I settled her on her hand and knees, right at the edge of the bed, and took her from behind, while standing on the floor. Yes, we used plenty of lube.
Nicole invited me to stay again, but we both had to work the next day.
- "If I wake up next to you in the morning, we both know what's going to happen: we'll be late for work."
- "You're probably right." she conceded. I raised an eyebrow at that. "Okay," she said, "not just probably."
I'd been in a much better mood since my first date with Nicole. Ibrahim caught me smiling - I was sure of it - but he didn't ask.
The next night, we all gathered at the Sand Trap.
- "Well, hey stranger." said Nicole, as she got up to change seats. It had become a little tradition with us. If the girls were on their own, they sat with two on each side of the booth. When I arrived, Nicole would switch over, beside Anne, while Celine was in the corner. That left the opposite side for Ashra and me.
I was momentarily worried that the other girls might catch the hidden sarcasm in Nicole's greeting, but no one acted differently, or said anything out of the ordinary. Apparently she hadn't told any of her friends about us.
Alicia came over with a beer for me, and took orders for refills. She lingered just a bit to chat with us, until another thirsty patron caught her eye.
- "Ashra was just telling us about her day." said Nicole. "Go on, Ash."
- "Oh, no - not in front of Mike!"
- "It's probably something he should hear." said Anne. "He may already know, though."
- "Know what?" I was genuinely clueless.
- "There. See? Go ahead, Ashra."
Ashra didn't seem too keen, but she gave in to the pressure form Anne and Nicole.
- "Do you know Binh? The Vietnamese maid?"
- "By sight, yes. She's pretty shy, though, isn't she?"
- "Very shy. Well, she went in to clean one of the guests' room, only he was still there. Waiting for her. Well, maybe not her in particular, but waiting on a maid. Now, she'd left the door open - we all do that. It's standard practice. But the guest closed the door behind her."
Ashra released a deep breath. "I don't know if you guys know this, but those rooms are fairly soundproof. You could play the drums in there, and no one would hear. But what saved Binh was that Martina was just a little behind. Martina's one of our floor supervisors. She came up to do the room opposite, and saw Binh's cart there - with her cleaning supplies - and the door closed. Martina used her key and went in, intending to give Binh an earful. Instead, she saw her face down on the bed, with her skirt flipped up over her back. The member was holding her down with one hand while he tried to undo his pants with the other."
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "Seriously?"
- "What happened then, Ash?" said Anne.
- "Nothing. The member gave Martina some money, and he left."
- "What did he say?"
- "Nothing."
- "Nothing?" I said. "Did they report him?"
- "Report him? What would that achieve? They'd be the ones to get in trouble."
- "What? He gets caught trying to rape a woman, but leaves a tip, and that's the end of it?"
- "It wasn't a tip, Mike." said Celine. "Rich people don't tip."
The other girls all nodded their agreement.
- "But... something like this happens, and the man just walks away?"
- "All the time." said Anne. "Binh was too terrified to say anything, and Martina knows better than to make a complaint. They're not going to punish a guest. But a whiny chambermaid? She could find herself transferred in no time."
- "But -" I turned to Ashra. "Has anything like that ever happened to you?"
- "It happens." she said. "We've all learned ways to deflect attention, or to deter that sort of thing. Would you like to see what I do?"
- "What?"
She didn't wait. Ashra crossed her eyes, and screwed up her face in a lop-sided grin with her tongue hanging out. For added effect, her cheek twitched - repeatedly.
A moment later, she relaxed. "That usually works." she said.
- "Usually?"
- "A girl doesn't have to be pretty. Young and female is enough. Some aren't even that picky."
- "I can't believe this." I said.
- "Believe it, Mike." said Alicia. She'd come up to deliver the girls' refills. "I used to work in food service. You have no idea how many times I heard 'Show us your tits'. I'm delivering food, and that's what they're shouting at me."
Again, all of the other girls nodded.
"Even here, there are guys who think they're entitled to pinch my ass, or that I won't notice if they rub up on my tits. I mean, me?" She waved a hand along the side of her body.
- "What?"
- "Yeah. But then Tess has a quiet word with them, and they're good as gold for at least a few months. Eh - men and alcohol. The more of them you get in one place, the lower the average intelligence."
Once again, I felt like an idiot. Claire and my mother had been taken. Sheila savagely beaten. Rebecca and others forced into sexual slavery. I shouldn't have been surprised by Ashra's story. From the reactions of everybody else in the booth, these were common occurrences. No wonder Claire and Nicole tried so hard to hide.
How stupid was I, that I hadn't figured this out before now?
The girls could see my obvious embarrassment, and mercifully changed the topic.
Later that night, as I was getting ready to leave, Alicia asked to speak to me.
- "You're a pretty handy guy, right? I'm having a sort of... mechanical problem. Do you think you could help me with it?"
- "What kind of mechanical problem?"
- "Well... it's hard to describe. It would be easier to show you. I know you're on days now, but when you're back on nights, maybe you could come over and take a look?"
- "Sure." I said. I wasn't a mechanic, or anything, but if I couldn't solve her problem, at the very least I should be able to direct her to someone who could.
Like several others on staff, Alicia lived in one of the small apartments above the staff mall, facing the rear of the building. I went over just after one in the afternoon. When I knocked on her door, I heard her call out a cheerful 'Come in!'.
- "Hey, Alicia." I said. Then I stopped dead in my tracks. Alicia was in the corner of the room, wearing a bulky bathrobe. Even so, she didn't look like my friend Alicia.
Let me rephrase that: it
was
Alicia. Same hair, tied up. Same plain face. But the body beneath the bathrobe simply wasn't big enough to belong to her. Not unless she'd lost forty pounds in the space of two days.
She came over and closed the door behind me.
- "Here's my mechanical problem, Mike. It's my gear. Now you see why I couldn't very well describe it at the bar." She indicated a strange half bodysuit that looked vaguely familiar.
I'm not the quickest of guys, but I'd seen something like it before: Claire's 'hiding suit'. Alicia's was bigger, and much more elaborate. It had twin shoulder straps, short sleeves, and then a seamless set of pads designed to fit under her breasts and settle on her hips.
Alicia was a hider, too? I'd had no idea. I took a longer look at her gear. It was really a very ingenious contraption. Anyone who put a hand on her shoulder would believe that they'd touched her bra strap. Anyone who placed their hands on her hips would feel like they were touching her fat body through her clothes.
- "It's really something." I said. "I had no idea you wore something like this."
- "Of course you didn't. That's what it's for. Can you bring it over here, to the table?"
I picked it up. "Good grief - what does this thing weigh?"
- "Thirty pounds." she said. "I added a few weights in my pockets on the day I stepped onto a scale, in front of witnesses."
- "One hundred and seventy." I said, without thinking. We'd all heard the story.
- "That's right. I figured that 5'3" and 170 pounds would deter attention."
I put her suit on the table. "What's wrong with it?" I asked.
- "The straps. They bear most of the weight, and over time I guess they stretch a bit. I usually just move the buckle up a notch, but... have a look for yourself."
It really was a clever design. The exterior of the pads was fairly smooth, and supple. They could also be lifted up, to reveal the framework that they sat on. There were three concentric rings of leather, much like a dressmaker's model with buckles connecting the vertical straps to the horizontal ones. The shoulder straps were off to the sides, arranged to go around (rather than over) her breasts, and then over her shoulders, to meet behind her neck.
- "This can't be comfortable." I muttered.
