Content Warning:
The following chapter is part of a novel-length murder mystery with graphic violence and gratuitous non-consensual sex. Since I am writing for Literotica, the story contains more sex than mystery.
This story is in Nonconsent/Reluctance for a reason.
Sensitive readers should look elsewhere for entertainment.
This story took place in 1977. There were no DNA tests, no cell phones, no internet, and computers were scarce.
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Chapter 5: King Herod
Jasmine shook me awake. "Krystal, King Herod is here."
I had been hard asleep, and I thought I was still in a dream. Why was I lying on a shabby couch in a strange room wearing a skimpy dress? I sat up and looked around for someone named Krystal. The room gave me no clue to my whereabouts. A tall, skinny and impossibly black woman was leaning over me with her hand on my shoulder. She was wearing a smile on her face and nothing else except for three tiny white triangles that barely covered her pert breasts and pussy. Her long hair fell all the way down her back to the bottom of her very generous ass. I had no idea who she was, but she looked familiar.
"Who is King Herod and where am I?"
"If you were a good Christian girl, you would know King Herod was the man who had John the Baptist beheaded. Since we are working as waitresses at the Velvet Groove Club, I guess neither of us is anything close to being a good Christian girl, and King Herod is just a nasty pimp. You fell asleep after entertaining the frat party. You said you wanted to talk to Herod, and he just arrived. As usual, he is acting like he is the king of North Philly."
I stared at the curious black woman. She wasn't making any sense, but it might have been me. I was hot, sweaty and incredibly thirsty. I eagerly accepted a bottle of water from her with my initials on it. I chugged the bottle and tried to control my rising panic. Everything in the tiny room was pulsating with multicolored energy. If that wasn't enough to disorient me, outlandish images were flooding my brain. I recalled giving lap dances to men in suits. I ran my hand over my bare ass cheeks to disprove my recollection of being spanked. I shuddered when I felt the lingering sting from the belt. Memories of shameful acts came flooding back. I had visions of this black woman riding an elderly white man's cock. I also remembered the black girl's name.
"Oh God, Jasmine, did an old guy fuck me with a cigar?"
"Never mind baby doll. Nobody got hurt, and those horny white guys left us a big tip. You've got $120 in your tip jar and the night is just starting. I wish we had regulars like that every night."
I looked at Jasmine in disbelief. My mother was an experienced high school teacher, and my financial aid application stated she made $250 a week. In a couple of hours, I had made half a week's salary for my mother, and she often put in sixty hour weeks. I stood up and rubbed my ass.
"You still sore, Krystal? I'm sorry, but John wouldn't let me stop Scav from punishing you. John said you slapped Scav hard and deserved what you got."
I ignored what Jasmine was saying about those two assholes. I remembered why I was here.
"Shit, Jasmine, I need to get out there before John has some other girl wait on Herod. Tell me if I look presentable."
"Damn Krystal, are you really that eager to meet the nastiest pimp in North Philly? Ok, Ok, let's look at you."
She guided me over to a full-length mirror. My lipstick was a mess. I had a couple of stray hairs that had escaped from my French braid. My nipples were visible through the sheer dress. I pulled the top aside. My nipples and areolas had been highlighted with my bright red lipstick. I remembered the grasping hands and eager mouths that had smeared the lipstick over my generous breasts.
Jasmine had a wet paper towel. She cleaned the lipstick off my breasts and face before helping me to apply a fresh coat to my lips. I left my breasts free of lipstick. I didn't want Herod to think I was too experienced. Jasmine lifted the bottom of my skirt and tugged my damp panties into place. I shuddered as I remembered the fraternity chairman demonstrating the meaning of peek-a-boo panties to his friends. I pulled my dress down as far as it would go. I could still see a flash of red panties below the bottom of my dress. I turned in front of the mirror and caught a glimpse of the bottoms of my ass cheeks. I must have tied the dress too high after my romp in the dining room. I didn't have time to fiddle with the stupid dress.
"Krystal, it looks perfect. Just sexy enough to catch Herod's attention."
I muttered a curse under my breath and got a laugh from Jasmine. She handed me my four-inch bright red high-heel shoes. I sat down and put them on.
"Be careful Krystal. Herod has a nasty temper and loathes women who don't know their place. He was the bantam-weight boxing champion of Philadelphia when he was younger. He got into a fight with Scav one night and struck the big guy three times before he hit the ground. Scav was out cold and spent a week in the hospital. Herod has no qualms about hitting women."
Jasmine held the door for me, and I rushed to the bar. John saw me coming and had a tray ready when I reached the waitress station.
"I was just about to have another waitress take care of Herod. You can take this whiskey to him now. He's in the back corner. You don't want to keep him waiting."
I glared at John. I remembered how he had let Scav and his buddies punish me. If Jasmine hadn't intervened, I would have been gang raped by a dozen or more patrons. I shook my head to clear my head of the memory of Scav spanking me with a leather belt and then raping me on the table. I was afraid if I thought too much I would have a panic attack.
I handed John my empty water bottle and said, "Do I at least have time for a drink of water? Your damn club is so hot I sweat it out as fast as I drink it."
John laughed and took the bottle. He filled it with tap water, and I watched carefully as he added the water purification tablet to my drink. He smiled as he shook the bottle before handing it to me. I drank the whole bottle as fast as I could swallow. It didn't seem to matter how much I drank; I was still thirsty from the Molly some asshole had slipped into my drink. It had to have happened when I was drinking the large whiskey John had given me to calm my nerves. I had turned to talk to Jasmine when John introduced us. Anyone could have spiked my drink while my back was turned. Jasmine had promised me the effects would wear off in a couple of hours, but it seemed like I still hadn't reached the peak. My head was more fucked up than ever. I was afraid I wouldn't be coherent when I got the chance to interview Herod about what he saw the night Inesa was murdered.
I handed the empty bottle back to John. "John, could you please refill my bottle. I'm sure I'll want more soon."
John said, "Krystal, you're doing great. Take Herod his drink and see if you can get him to buy you some Champagne. Bend over when you set down his drink and flash your skinny white ass. Tell him you are thirsty. Remember you get a cut."
I grabbed the whiskey and headed toward the back of the club. I found a short, wiry guy sitting by himself in an isolated alcove. He was the only one around without a drink. He was wearing the standard Velvet Groove uniform - a tank top and basketball shorts. I strutted toward his table. His eyes skimmed my body from my barely covered breasts to the flash of red panties below my short skirt. I was aware that every guy I passed had his eyes glued to my bouncing breasts or jiggling ass. The bolder ones grabbed at my body as I squeezed between the tightly packed tables.
I smiled down at Herod. In my high-heels, I towered over the nastiest pimp in Philly. His eyes were on a level below the bottom of my dress allowing him to focus on my red peek-a-boo panties. I prayed the opening in the front was closed.
"Are you Herod? Did you order a double Crown Royal?"
"Yeah, I'm Herod, and that's my drink."