Cross Contamination Chapter 9: Checkmate.
Gina looked at herself in the rearview mirror again.
She still looked like a mess.
Luckily, Gina had thrown the silver minidress that Victor gave her in the car on her way to their meeting. It was still dirty from the night she had worn it, smelling faintly of Victor's sweat and cologne. Gina had been planning to give the dress back to Victor, but now she was wearing it. She wriggled her hips to try to force the dress to cover more of her thighs.
It was better than being naked, but not by much.
Gina had used the two emergency wet wipes at the bottom of her purse to clean the cum off of her face at least. She had done her best with the thick, sticky sperm on the rest of her body, but there was only so much two wet wipes could do when faced with Victor's massive load. By the end, she was just smearing the sticky filth around her skin with the dirty wipes.
With the clarity that came after an orgasm, Gina could see how she had been played. Victor had built up her arousal, gave her the cold shoulder for a week, and then exploited her vulnerable state.
One thing was certain, she was dealing with a master manipulator. But Victor had overplayed his hand this time. Gina knew the law better than anyone, and clear-cut blackmail wasn't something you could just wave away. Victor might have good lawyers, but Gina knew the best of the best as well. She would greatly prefer this contest of wills to be transferred to the courts: her home territory.
There wasn't any time to waste. Gina had to make a police report immediately. She could have gone home, changed, and showered... But she wasn't ready to talk to Daren yet. Just thinking about him started a dark storm of guilt and sadness in her heart. She couldn't go home looking and smelling like she did. Maybe when she finished at the police station, she would stay overnight with a friend, just to give her enough time to get her body and mind back to normal before facing her husband.
She didn't admit to herself that smoldering anger also factored into her decision to go straight to the police station. Gina had always had a temper, and sometimes it made her act a little rashly.
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"Let me get this straight." Said the old, gruff-looking police chief sarcastically, "You agreed to sexually service Mr. Victor Cross."
"Yes." Said Gina nervously. This wasn't going as she had hoped. When she had asked for help at the front desk, the officer there had leered at her like she was a piece of meat. It wasn't until she had mentioned Victor's name that he seemed to pay attention at all. Now she was sitting in front of the chief of police himself, explaining herself like a tongue-tied schoolgirl in the principal's office.
"And in return, he promised you money." Continued the fat, unsympathetic chief behind the desk.
"No. I mean, yes." Said Gina, tripping over her words, "It's more complicated than that! It was more like special benefits than money. And I was pressured!" This man had to understand! "The important part is the blackmail! Why don't you focus on that!" She said desperately.
"Right." Said the police chief, with a bemused grimace, "The thing is, Victor Cross is an upstanding community member held in high regard. And you've admitted that you don't have any proof. Who am I supposed to believe? Victor Cross? Or some hoo... er, lady such as yourself?"
"Excuse me?!?" Gina screeched in disbelief. She had never been so insulted in her whole life! What exactly was this man implying?
The Chief looked up sharply, frowning beneath his bristling mustache.
"Now, don't take that tone with me, little lady." He said sharply, standing up from his desk and showing that, despite his pot belly, he was a large and muscular man, "You come into my office, reeking of semen and booze, tits and ass barely covered. No panties by the way. And now you want to pay the injured innocent? Ridiculous. Aren't you ashamed of yourself?"
Gina shrank, cringing from the verbal assault, trying desperately to stretch and pull the dress to cover more of her exposed body. He was right, she realized. She looked and smelled like a well-used whore. If the dress had looked slutty in a strip club at night, it was laughably inappropriate for daylight. It didn't help that her body was still coated in a layer of mixed sweat and Victor's slime. Strangely, the thought of being seen as such a dirty slut was turning her on again, making her lose some of the purpose and clarity she had regained. It reminded her of when Vicotr had tricked her into stripping at the Panther Club. Although here she had an audience of just one fat older man, her embarrassment was just as strong. What was wrong with her? She was a confident independent woman. Humiliation didn't make her horny, that was just something Victor wanted to be true. Suddenly, Gina wanted nothing more than to sneak out with her tail between her legs and regroup, but as she stood, the imposing man blocked the way.
"Oh no no no. It's too late for that now. Sorry sister, but I'm afraid that you just admitted to a serious crime. Selling your holes to strange men is called prostitution, honey. It's a big word, I know, but I think you are probably familiar with it." His voice was cruel, and he grabbed Gina's shoulder in a vice-like grip.
He began to march her down the station hallway, as passing officers glanced with a mixture of arousal and disgust at her sweaty, sticky breasts nearly popping out of the tiny dress.
"We will throw you in the drunk tank for tonight, and decide how to charge you in the morning." He said gruffly. But first, we'll need to perform a routine search." The chief marched her into a small side room.
"Someone will be with you shortly!" with a nasty grin, the police chief firmly closed the door on the wide-eyed Gina, leaving her alone with her panicked thoughts.
...
Cassie slumped over her desk with red-rimmed eyes, staring into the distance. After getting the rejection letter yesterday from Yale, she had been forced to reevaluate her entire life plans. Yale had been her dream school, but she really hadn't thought that it was such a long shot. She was sure that eventually she would be able to shake off the disappointment and go to one of her second-choice schools. But for now, the wound was still raw.
Renee, looking perfect as always in a crop top and tight shorts, sat down beside her and chirpily asked what was going on. All that Cassie could do was burst into tears and cry on her bestie's shoulder. She explained through sobs how she had gotten a rejection letter from Yale, and how disappointed she felt. Renee made all of the appropriate comforting noises, although Cassie could have sworn that she caught a strange glint in her friend's eye that didn't look sympathetic.
"Don't worry babe," said Renee confidently, "I'm sure that you will get something that you like. You have lots of safeties, right? And look, even if you can't get into college at all, that wouldn't be the end of the world."
Cassie looked at Renee doubtfully. What a weird thing to say. Cassie had been told since she was a young girl that college was the right path for her. What else could there be?
