I am grateful to the talented editors DarkTwistedDesires and TessSoerensen for fixing my many errors and making this presentable. Thanks also for the insight of story consultant Qetesh. Finally, thanks to the mechanical engineer who posted a comment pointing out flaws in the cage. The flaws were corrected, but the comment wasn't removed since it was anonymous and won't embarrass the poster.
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Jason was dozing in a lounge chair under a shade umbrella by the side of the pool when the security gong awakened him.
"Damn it!" he muttered as he slowly got up and padded to the living room. He brought up the security cameras on his huge television screen with his smartphone and saw a white van on the road leading from his gate to the house.
"How the hell did it get in?" he complained to himself. He had the only control to open the heavy iron gate, and there had been no call from the squawk box.
He switched from camera to camera as the van drove the mile and a half from the gate to his front door. The sun reflected on the windshield, and the side windows were tinted, so he couldn't see the driver.
The van stopped at the sidewalk leading to the front door and three women got out. The house cameras showed they were middle-aged and dressed in business suits. They walked briskly to the door, and one of them pressed the doorbell. All three of them looked up directly into the camera above the door and smiled.
They were attractive. From their meticulous hairstyles and makeup, it seemed they had plenty of money to spend on themselves. It made no difference to Jason.
"What do you want?" he demanded, controlling his urge to curse at them.
"Mr. Fleischhandler?" asked one in a pleasant voice.
He didn't respond.
"We're sorry to disturb you. We're from the Empty Alleys Foundation. We'll only take a moment of your time."
"I'm not interested."
"I think you will be once you see our material. If we've caught you at a bad time, we can leave it with you and talk to you later, after you've had a chance to familiarize yourself with EAF."
"Leave it on the doorstep," he said.
"I'm sorry, but the material is not for children's eyes, so we're required to hand it to an adult in person," the woman said.
He looked closely at them and their clothes. What would be the fastest way to get rid of them? He walked to his heavy front door, flipped the three deadbolts, and swung the door open.
"Thank you, Mr. Fleischhandler," said the blonde in the middle. "Here's the literature." She reached out to him with a folder that had a strange illustration on it with the letters EAF under it. He looked at the picture as he took it from her hand. It was a woman's face covered in garish makeup.
"Ow!"
"Oh! I'm so sorry, Mr. Fleischhandler," the blonde said. "I must have scratched you with my fingernail. There's a drop of blood. Better put a bandage on it. We'll give you time to look through the material before we call on you again."
"Sure."
Once he fixed the gate, they weren't ever going to set foot on his property again.
"Bye!"
"Bye!"
"Bye!"
The three of them turned and walked back to the van. Jason slammed the door, deposited the literature in the trash, went back to the lounge chair, and soon drifted off to sleep again.
***************
He awoke in his bed. He slowly opened his eyes and immediately sat up.
"What the fuck!"
"Hi, Jason!"
It was the three women, and they were sitting on chairs facing him. He blinked. Was he dreaming? Everything seemed unreal.
He noticed the cage almost at the same time as he realized he was naked. A second later he felt the bed vibrating.
He moved to the cage and looked at it.
"You can touch it, Jason," the blonde said. "It's electrical but not electrified."
He carefully touched it with his fingertips and then grabbed it with both hands. The shiny steel tubes weren't thick, but they were solid and unyielding. The cage covered almost his entire king-size bed.
He looked around the bed and saw some pillows in one corner of the cage. A closer look told him that they weren't pillows but some kind of heavily padded contraption. It was roughly rectangular, but parts of it were curved and parts concave. He moved over to examine it.
"That's for you," said the blonde brightly. "We call it the horse. You mount it on your hands and knees. It's custom-made for your body, so you'll find it quite comfortable."
He turned around and moved nearer the three women.
"What's this all about?" he growled. He had quickly sized up his situation and knew his physical strength wasn't going to be of much use. He'd have to use his wits to get out of this.
"You haven't changed much Jason," the blonde said. "You aren't big on yelling and wasted effort. This is going to work out well.
"The reason you're in the cage is there was something on my fingernail. You were dead to the world for five hours before you woke up. We had plenty of time to put the cage together, scout your property, and prepare you.
"I'm Angelique, this is Delilah and this is Vixen. Sound familiar?"
He looked at them in astonishment.
"You can't be -."
"But we are. Former employees. We knew you wouldn't recognize us. If we had photos of what we used to look like, our own children wouldn't believe them. Thank goodness nobody took pictures in those days.
"We found each other on FaceBook after Vixen started the Empty Alleys Foundation. We've connected with a lot of your former employees, including some who worked for you before and after us.
"We came to visit you for two reasons. First of all, there's the EAF, which helps prostitutes get off the streets. We're nationwide already, and your contribution will help us go international. We and all our members truly appreciate your donating this property and all your other assets.
"We're also here to discuss more intimate matters between you and each of us. All your former workers that we talked to had similar experiences to ours. As a pimp, you were better than most. When we left you, you let us go, probably because you were always grooming replacements. You ran an efficient operation. Your real estate, stock, and bond holdings are a testament to your business acumen.
"Some of us, like myself, feel we owe some of our success to the toughness and survival instincts we learned working for you. So, in a way, I guess I could thank you. I run my own investment banking company, and you can take some of the credit that my net worth is greater than yours.
"On the other hand, most of your former sex workers are poor and struggling. The EAF is helping many of them already. We're not blaming you for everything that happened to them, but in our conversations on social media, all of us did agree on one thing: You didn't pay us enough for the hard work we did for you.
"The customers paid the going rate, but your cut was too big. You did provide management, but the consensus is that you had us at a disadvantage. When you found us, all of us were desperate and had no other options.
"As you always reminded us, the world isn't fair. Countless times, you told us you were only doing whatever you could get away with, just like any boss.