Cursed Ch 11

Cursed Chapter 11: No Wedding Bells for Tiffany

CONTENT WARNING:

This dark story is pure fantasy. Be warned. Many chapters contain strong

Non-Consent / Reluctance

content.

All characters depicted in sexual scenes or referred to in a sexual context are over 18.

I ran out of ideas on ways to torment Tiffany, so this is the last chapter of Cursed.

***

Steve

Steve glanced at his watch again as he paced the hallway outside Amber's hospital room. He felt more nervous than when the Taliban had penned down his men at a remote Afghanistan outpost. At least then, he'd been the captain of a battle-hardened company and could fight back against an enemy they could see. All he could do now was watch while the doctors fought an invisible enemy ravaging Amber's skinny body. The last laboratory report had been encouraging, but this drug-resistant strain of Streptococcal bacteria had come roaring back multiple times as one treatment after another had failed.

Steve had no second thoughts about lying that Amber was his daughter. What choice did he have? The awful memory of her labored breathing was still fresh in his mind when he carried the gravely ill child into the hospital last night. When the doctor informed him that the only viable treatment option was an experimental and costly monoclonal antibody drug, he readily signed the paperwork claiming Amber was his daughter. Thankfully the billing department was closed for the weekend. By the time they discovered his deception, the treatment would be complete.

Once again, Sarge had his back, just like he had throughout his tour of duty in Afghanistan. As his best friend had done so many times in combat, Sarge cleaned up a mess his captain had gotten himself into, thanks to his impulsive nature. The steady sergeant had arranged for Steve and Tiffany to be married before the hospital billing department discovered that Amber wasn't Steve's child. Sarge had easily convinced Kyle, a fellow veteran in the Riverdale City Clerk's office, to officiate at the ceremony and predate the wedding certificate.

Now all they needed was the bride, but what wedding would be traditional without the bride being fashionable late? Still, forty minutes was cutting it close. Kyle was on his lunch break and getting anxious. Sarge leaned against the pastel hospital wall and watched Steve pace.

Steve stopped and looked at his watch for the tenth time in the last four minutes. "I guess she's changed her mind. Well, I can't blame her. Why would she risk committing a felony to save my sorry old ass? Child Protective Services would take Amber away if she gets caught defrauding the hospital for a couple of hundred thousand dollars."

Sarge calmly examined his fingernails as he responded. "Since you're the one who signed the paperwork, there's little risk to Tiffany and Amber. I made that clear to her yesterday when she asked about my plan. I'm surprised she didn't come in earlier this morning to check on her daughter. Something must have delayed her. What did she say when she got up this morning?"

"Tiffany didn't come home last night. I have no idea where she is, and she doesn't have a cellphone."

"Is there someplace we can look? I can only keep Kyle here another twenty or thirty minutes."

#

Tiffany - Earlier Sunday Morning

Tiffany whimpered as her frozen body was lowered into a pool of molten lava. She almost could feel her naked flesh being burnt away, but her cold body was too stiff and sore to do more than gasp since her throat was too raw from having dozens of hard cocks thrust down it for her to scream.

Mike said, "Girl, you need to take it easy, or you'll have a heart attack. You've got hypothermia, and we must slowly warm up your core. I'm sorry about the lukewarm bath. The water may feel cold, but I'll add warm water in a minute. You're lucky I was a medic in the 10

th

Mountain Division and got trained to treat frostbite and hypothermia."

Tiffany closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. As her body warmed, she became aware of her tortured flesh. Every part of her body was hurting from the abuse inflicted by the party of managers from the local branch of Yamanami Heavy Industries. The last thing she remembered was being alone and tied to a bed in the Executive Party Room after the Dollhouse had closed. She remembered being terrified when she realized she was abandoned in the room until the club reopened after being closed Sunday and Monday. She had grown more frightened when she began shivering as the temperature dropped, thanks to a thermostat programmed to save energy. Finally, she had slipped into a long, peaceful slumber.

As soon as she could talk, she croaked out a question. "What day is it?"

Mike laughed. "It's ten thirty on Sunday morning. You still have time to get to church."

Tiffany felt embarrassed when she realized her savior was the gay bartender she had come on to while high on Ecstasy her first night at The Dollhouse. However, the young stripper was past the point where being seen naked was of any concern.

"You saved my life, so make fun of me. I deserve it for trying to rape you, but it wasn't my fault. Carmen drugged my water bottle."

"You need to be careful around Carmen and Alberto. You're lucky I was here to save you. It must be fate. My boyfriend saw you grinding your nude body against mine and kissing me. He kicked me out of our apartment, so I returned to the club to sleep in the party room. I didn't expect to find anyone there."

Mike added warm water to the bath and stirred it with his hand. He was surprised when Tiffany sat up in the tub and held out a hand.

"Please, help me out."

Mike put his hand on her shoulder and pushed her torso back into the lukewarm bath. He shook his head. "I'd advise staying in the bath until your core warms up completely. This is the riskiest part of reviving a hypothermia victim."

Tiffany gasped. The bartender's hot hand felt like it was burning her skin. She fell back into the tub. The simple act of sitting up had made her dizzy. She felt close to fainting, and her head throbbed painfully. Maybe, Mike was right. Perhaps, she needed to rest a while longer. The young dancer shivered as Mike added warm water and stirred it around.

Tiffany whimpered,

"

My daughter is in the hospital. She's very sick. I have to be with her. She needs me."

"Relax. A half-hour won't make any difference to your daughter. Besides, she needs you alive. You're lucky I found you when I did. You would have been dead before morning."

Tiffany felt her heart beating hard as if her cold blood had turned into sludge. She closed her eyes and forced herself to take long, slow breaths.

Oh God, I am such a failure. I can't even die without fucking up.

"Mike, thank you for saving my life. I don't know why that asshole Gino didn't do his job. Carmen told him to watch over me."

"It's been a crazy night. While you were entertaining the Japanese managers, Gino was at the bar drinking expensive whiskey and telling everyone what a great job he had. The asshole bragged that he had already nailed the club's top dancer twice. Thankfully the arrival of the police put an end to his boasting.

"The police came to take Carmen and Alberto to the station for questioning about the murders. When they tried to search Carmen's office, all hell broke loose. Gino knocked a policeman down, and the officers dragged him off in handcuffs. Carmen's lawyer ended the attempted search when he asked for their warrant, but he couldn't prevent his clients from being taken to the police station."

Tiffany laughed. "I would love to have seen that."

"Unfortunately, in the chaos, everyone forgot about you. You might have died if my boyfriend hadn't kicked me out."

Tiffany had stopped shivering and felt her strength returning. "Mike, please. I have a wedding to attend. I can't be late."

Mike said, "No one will miss you at a wedding, but they'll definitely miss you at your funeral."

"You don't understand. It's my wedding."

Mike laughed as he added more warm water. "I'm hurt. You didn't invite me. Well, never mind. You're the bride. You're supposed to be late."

Somehow, Mike kept the young dancer in the bath for another half hour. Even then, he had to help her out of the bathtub.

Tiffany caught sight of her ravaged body in a full-length mirror. Her scraggly red hair was stuck together with cum, and her pale body was covered with bite marks and hickies. Mike helped her walk into the women's showers.

"Mike, you can go back to work. I'll be ok. Thanks again for saving my sorry ass."

"Make sure you see me before you leave."

Tiffany thought she'd never be clean again and scrubbed her body vigorously with a rough brush. The pain made her feel alive. Finally, she went to her locker and opened the combination lock. Her sports bag was undisturbed, but her jeans were not inside. She rubbed her aching head and recalled hanging them on a wall hook, but they were nowhere in the locker room. Nothing remained of her favorite winter outfit since Gino had ripped her flannel shirt to threads.

Tiffany dug through her sports bag in a panic. The first thing she found was the sack with the handgun Ashley had loaned her. She shivered when she felt the weight of the pistol. The vivid memory of shooting the Russian debt collector came rushing back. She'd been stupid to bring it with her last night to return to her friend. Of course, Ashley had taken time off after her husband's body was pulled from the river.

Tiffany set the handgun aside and continued her search. The only clothes she found were her threadbare yoga pants and a skimpy halter top. She had no underwear and slipped on the outfit over her bare skin. The top showed lots of cleavage, and the skintight yoga pants made her long legs look like an artist had spray-painted designs on them. A pair of high-heel stripper shoes completed the outfit.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She hadn't worn this outfit since she'd left The Pink Pussycat for Carmen's degenerate club. It was far more modest than the babydoll pajamas that were the official uniform at The Dollhouse, but they emphasized every curve of her trim dancer's body. The sexy outfit would have to do until she could get to Steve's house and change before their scam wedding.

When Tiffany went to close her locker, she saw the numbers she had scratched on the inside of the door. It was the combo to Carmen's office. She gazed at it as a plan formed in her weary mind. Perhaps, there was a way to free herself from Carmen's clutches. If the police needed an excuse to get a warrant to search her boss' office, she would give them one.

When Tiffany stepped out of the locker room, she could hear the bartender restocking the bar with cheap booze. She made her way to the corridor outside Carmen's office without running into Mike. Her hands were shaking as she keyed in the numbers. She slipped inside and closed the door. Tiffany shivered in the cold, gloomy office. The overhead lights and TV monitors were off. The only illumination was from the light filtering through the one-way mirror from the club's main room.

Carmen's office brought back horrible memories. She swallowed hard before switching on the lights. A massive desk dominated the sparsely furnished room. The only objects on the otherwise bare desk were Carmen's laptop, an old-fashioned telephone, and the enormous glass dildo used to rape her twice, the first night in her vagina and the next night in her ass.

Tiffany walked behind the desk and tugged open the bottom drawer to hide the handgun she'd used to kill the Russian debt collector. She almost laughed when she saw the disarray inside. Now, she understood how Carmen kept the desktop clean. He must regularly sweep all the clutter of business into the drawer. She wanted to bury the weapon under the pile of papers and began pulling them out and setting them on the desk. She stopped when she found a manila envelope labeled, 'Best of the Party Room.' Inside was a high-capacity flash drive. She started at it briefly before tossing it into her sports bag.

When she pulled out the next batch of papers, she was surprised to see two handguns at the bottom of the drawer. One was smaller than Ashley's Ruger, but the other looked like a cannon. She shivered at the sight of Carmen's arsenal and thought about what they might mean. She had been worried that Ashley might have shot her husband and Tony after watching them fuck her best friend. Now, she wasn't sure. Maybe Carmen had killed his rival, and Ashley's cheating husband had just been collateral damage.

Tiffany knew she had chosen the right place to hide her friend's gun. She paused momentarily to wipe it down with a damp towel from her sports bag. She placed the deadly weapon beside the other two and closed the drawer.

Tiffany's hand was shaking when she used the towel to pick up the handset of Carmen's landline. She dialed 911 and reported seeing several handguns in Carmen's office. When they asked her who she was, she said she was the cleaning lady. Before she hung up, she said at least one smelled like it had recently been fired.

Tiffany looked at the clock on the wall behind Carmen's desk and panicked. She was running late. Her wedding day wasn't going like she'd imagined when she was a dreamy teenager living in a loving home with her parents. She remembered happily sitting with her mom, looking at her parent's wedding album.

Tiffany sighed. There would be no white dress, minister, chapel, bridesmaids, or wedding bells. Instead, she would be married in a hospital room by a civil servant with a couple of witnesses and a groom whom she had known for only a little over a week. Even her best friend, Ashley, wouldn't be there.

Tiffany barely paused to thank Mike again as she left the degenerate club. Outside, the sky was crisp and clear. It was bitter cold, and her car had six inches of snow covering it. Thankfully, the car that had belonged to Steve's first wife started quickly. She turned the heater to maximum and began cleaning off the snow. Under the snow, there was a quarter-inch layer of ice. Once the inside of the car was warm, she slid the ice from the windows. Still, by the time she drove out of the parking lot, it was too late to stop at Steve's house to change clothes. If Steve wanted to marry her, it would be in her pole-dancing outfit.

#

Steve

I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Tiffany strutting down the hospital corridor like a model at a Paris fashion show. The young dancer took my breath away. Her generous breasts bounced as she placed one foot in front of the other, swaying her curvy hips with each stride. I recognized her outfit. She wore the same sexy clothes she had on the night she gave me a lap dance in The Pink Pussycat. She must have worn them for me. Damn, she was hot. I suppressed a laugh when Sarge whistled, "Here Comes the Bride." My pulse quickened, even though I knew the wedding was a sham.

Tiffany pushed through the group standing near the doorway and sat on the edge of her daughter's bed. She touched her daughter's forehead before stroking Amber's cheek. The gorgeous dancer caught her breath when her daughter opened her eyes.

"Oh, thank God. Your fever has broken. How's my baby girl feeling?

Amber smiled and reached for her mother's hand. "I feel better. I'm just a little tired and weak. Why are all these people in my room?"

Tiffany cupped her daughter's smiling face and laughed with joy. "It seems that I'm going to marry Steve. These people are here to take part in the wedding. Would you like to be the maid of honor?"

Amber's eyes got big. "Oh yes, please."

Tiffany pulled several pink peonies from a vase with a card from Steve. "Amber, you can hold these during the wedding. That way, everyone will know you are the maid of honor."

Tiffany turned, glanced around the room, and apologized. "I'm sorry." Her eyes flickered over my face as she said, "I hope I'm not too late."

Kyle said, "It's ok as long as we keep the ceremony short. I'm sorry, but I must attend a city council meeting shortly. Now, if you can stand by the groom, we can proceed."

Tiffany moved to my side at the foot of Amber's bed. I hesitated before taking her hands in mine. It seemed like the right thing to do. I remembered holding my first wife's hands at our wedding twenty years ago, just after we graduated from high school.

Kyle said, "Tiffany, do you take Steve to be your husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part?"

I felt Tiffany's hands tremble as she closed her eyes and said, "I do."

Kyle repeated the words to me, and I responded with my promise. I felt sorry for Tiffany. The whole ceremony was a lie, and I had just robbed her of the best day of her life.

I was still lost in my thoughts when Kyle said, "I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

There was an awkward pause before Amber shouted, "Kiss him, mom."

I watched Tiffany stare into my eyes momentarily before she rose on her toes, placed her hand on the back of my neck, and pressed her lips against mine. I closed my eyes and inhaled sharply as Tiffany's scent flooded my nostrils. I remembered the perfume she wore from the night she sat on my lap and ground her hips against my crotch. My new bride gave me a long kiss, leaving me wanting more even though I didn't deserve more than a peck.

Tiffany's arms still held me close when she pulled her sweet lips from mine. "Thank you for saving my daughter and me. I couldn't live for even a day if anything happened to Amber. You have no idea how grateful I am."

I heard Amber clapping when her mom gave me another long kiss. I was blushing when Kyle interrupted us. Tiffany stepped away, but she took my hand and held it tight.

Kyle said, "Sorry to be a killjoy, but I need you guys to sign the wedding certificate. You'll have plenty of time for kissing on your honeymoon."

Tiffany signed first. Her signature had as many curves as her gorgeous body. I almost expected the young dancer to dot her 'I' with a heart. When I went to sign, I noticed the document was dated ten days earlier. I hesitated a moment before committing myself to fraud. Sarge signed next, followed by Annie, the pretty waitress who worked with my burly ex-sergeant at the VFW.

Sarge said, "If I'd known it was this easy to get married, I'd have done it long ago."

Annie punched him in the shoulder with all the force a former Army nurse could muster. She laughed. "Jerk, you're out of excuses."

Tiffany hugged Sarge. "Thank you for being a friend. I hope we get a chance to know each other better."

While Sarge was congratulating me, my bride and Annie embraced. Tiffany said, "If you need any help with your man, let me know. I'm sure Steve would be happy to return the favor and serve as Sarge's best man."

After everyone left, I watched Tiffany sit on the hospital bed and hold Amber's hand. The young girl was excited to talk about the wedding, but the ceremony had sapped what little strength she had remaining after her long bout with the stubborn illness. She fell asleep within minutes.

I offered Tiffany a chair, and she sat down, still clinging to her daughter's hand. Soon she laid her head on the side of the hospital bed and joined her daughter in slumber. I stayed to watch my new family until the nurse came to check Amber's vitals in the evening.

The nurse whispered, even though an explosion could not have aroused either of the sleeping girls. "Everything looks good, but we won't get another update from the lab until tomorrow morning. You should go home and sleep. Hospital policy only allows one overnight visitor. We'll keep an eye on your wife and daughter and let you know if anything changes."