Everyone having sex is at least 18. This story is a work of fiction. I made it all up. Check reality at the door and enjoy it for what it is. Special thanks to goducks111 for his help and making this a better story.
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Chapter 8 - Sharing
I am up early. I go down to the gym and workout hard. I am getting soft, and this feels good, my muscles are burning. I do some legs, arms, and core. It's been a while since I've worked out, I need to get all my muscles limbered up. When done, I take a quick shower and find mom making breakfast.
Mom, "You're up early. The staff isn't up for a while yet. I decided to get you some breakfast. I need a few more minutes, I'm not quite a short-order chef."
Coffee is ready, I grab a cup and some cream. I am tired and sore. I worked too hard today. Mom places some pancakes, sausage, and juice on the table, enough for the two of us.
Mom snickers, "Nobody else will be up for a while."
We eat for a bit; no words are spoken.
Mom, as expected, is the first to talk, "What are your intentions with Laura?"
I am flippant, "Oh, I was thinking a hollow-point .38 between the eyes."
Mom drops her fork. She looks at me with the eyes of someone that see's their own death on the way. That chilled me.
I am more relaxed now, "That was a joke, mom. If I were going to kill her, I would have done it already."
Mom is furious, "Never joke about that. She's had a hard time the last year or so. She used to run Escort jobs from time to time. Something happened, something bad, and she stopped. I don't know who or what, but it changed her."
That's interesting, that might be the customer I want. Not a current one but a former one. I will ask about that later. Right now, I need to find out how they know who our customers are. That's an inside job. We have a call center and an accounting firm; both have access to the people and the money. The call center has access to who will be scheduled in the future.
There are a lot of reservations to go through. I am surprised at how infrequently an escort gets work. When they do, it's great money. Perfect college work. Interestingly, there is more demand for a man than a woman. Half are asked for specifically. New guys are the busiest. It's also unusual in that Janet Norwood is the person that booked the last night for each person that died. Wow, this lady is dumb.
I go up to my room, and Laura and Alice are still there. I shake Alice awake.
Alice looks at me with sleepy eyes, "Whattttttttt?"
Clinically, I ask for the facts: "Where is your call center located? Are they people you hired?"
Alice asks, "What?"
Laura answers, "It's a big company, and they handle many companies. It's called JJ Industries, they're at 250 Industrial Blvd, suite 300. Why?"
I smile, "I found a rat."
I go out to the garage, and I find an old '69 Barracuda in rough shape. It hasn't been restored yet. They say the engine has been restored but nothing else. Perfect. Any better and it gets stolen while I am inside.
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I walk inside the office of JJ Industries, and there is an older chunky woman behind the front desk.
I try to sound sexy, "Laura called over, you should be expecting me. I need a conference room and Janet Norwood. She has done an exceptional job, and we want to single her out."
Trisha is more than happy to help me out. She has love in her eyes, and that amuses me. She places me in a conference room big enough for twenty people. An overhead projector and top of the line chairs. It's a nice room.
It's a few minutes later that Trisha brings Janet into the room. She is a young twenty-something woman. Nothing special about her. Average all around. She is married if the ring is correct.
I use a low deep voice to say, "My name is Ken, and I am here representing L & A Industries."
The smile has left her face.
I continue, "Let me put my cards on the table."
I place a stack of 3 x 5 pictures, face down on the table, then I take out my revolver and put it on the table as well. Janet stares at the weapon. She is trembling, she looks at me pleading.
I slam my hand down on the pictures my laser printer spun out. I pick up the photos and offer them to Janet. She reluctantly agrees to take the images, and then looks at them. In three seconds, she flashes through all twenty pictures. She is staring at me, questioning me with her eyes. Her eyes are now swelling with tears.
I tell her softly, "When you give out the information about an escort, that's what happens to both bodies." She looks sick. "I used to work for the CIA, killing people. I never caught the four people doing this in Iraq. How did you get involved?
She is weeping softly as she starts her tale, "I'm a young newlywed. We are short of money. I was at a bar with some personal friends when a guy asks me if I want to make 10k cash. I wake up in the morning, and I feel like I had all three holes stuffed with a baseball bat. I am in a cheap motel room. I take an uber home. I have no money, no 10k, no credit cards. My husband had to pay, and I had to explain what happened to him.
"The next day at work, I get an email with a video of what they did to me. I then get a call explaining that unless I want the video going out to my family, husband, and coworkers, I will give them names when they ask for them.
"Giving out a name doesn't hurt anyone, so I did it. I knew they were up to no good, but what choice did I have?"
I pick up the pictures and lay them down face up in a line.
I use my angry voice, "This is the result of your choice." I pause several seconds for effect. She is bawling. "Now, you are going to fix this mess. Next time they call, give them my next appointment. Then call me, I will make sure they never hurt someone again."
I watch her for a moment. Something is wrong, she stopped crying too soon. She didn't ask about her safety. I smile, stand up, say "goodbye," and then walk out the door. I scan the room to see if anyone is watching me."
I hear Janet make a call, "Hey, it's me. He showed up and just left like you said he would. Ok, thank you. Yeah, I know, what a schmuck, right? See ya later."
I run straight to the reception room door and close it as I hear her opening the conference room door. That was close. My heart is beating hard. Swell, I might know when they are coming for me, but they will have time to prepare for me and know when I am coming. This isn't looking good.
With surprise, I had a hard time winning, now it is damn near impossible. I go home, ignore a mean comment from Laura, ignore a sexual favor from Alice, and walk to my room. I hear Alice mutter, "Oh shit, this is bad." It is.
I strip and walk into a hot shower. The steam quickly builds. I have my arms on the wall and my head on my arms. I am sad and feeling sorry for myself. I can't believe it's going to end like this.
I am so distraught; I don't hear someone sneak up on me from behind. I feel two large perky breasts push into my back while two willowy arms try to wrap around me. She doesn't say anything nor ask for anything. She is just here with me. This woman makes no sense, everyone wants something.
Her hands are slowly working around my chest, feeling my muscles.
She is very soft when she asks, "What's wrong? You ignored us when you came home, you looked like a zombie."
I lay the facts out, "They are going to kill me. I can't stop four of them. I had a chance when I had surprise on my side. The girl that is helping them is one of their people. She will tell me, but they know that."
Alice is upbeat, "Someone helped you in Iraq. Someone high up knows you and wants to help you. Now sounds like a great time to ask for help."
I am the voice of reality, "You don't understand, the people I used to deal with. They don't have published phone numbers, they don't have a desk, they are loosely related to our government for easy deniability. I have no way to contact them."
Laura asks, "How did they know you were going to Iraq?"
What the hell is she doing here? Laura is naked in the shower with her daughter and me? Well, fuck me. Now I have seen it all. Laura turns off the water and hands a towel to Alice. Laura and Alice both dry me off and then lead me to the bed. I am pushed down on my front. I hear bottles opening, for I assume oil again. Sure enough, I am being oiled up on my arms, back, and legs. They are working together.
Both rub their breasts on my body parts, and that feels awesome. I feel four hands massaging my oiled body, four breasts dragging up and down my body. Oh yes, this feels great.
Laura grunts her words as she applies pressure to my legs and feet, "You, must, find, a, way, to, contact, your, friends. They, want, to, help, you. Send, email, to, everyone, or a few, at, a, time. Damn, you, are, a, mess."
Alice is snarky, "Well, he doesn't see how he survives this. I think I would be stressed as well. Geez, mom, way to help."
Laura's temper flares, "Hey, young lady, there are people out there that will help him. We need to contact those people. There must be a way. Then he can plan a solution to wipe out the four of them. Hell, hire a Seal team."
Alice is mad now as well, "Yeah, let's go down to the corner store and tell them we want to rent a local US Navy Seal team to help kill some bad people. Awesome plan, mom."
I have an idea, "One of the first people killed, was the daughter of an admiral. I remember reading that somewhere."
I got up out of bed, still naked, and ran to my office. I checked my boards and then cross-referenced the data. Sure enough, Lizzy Mulbern is the granddaughter of Philip Townsend, US Navy Retired.
I log on to my laptop and send him an email with my information. I tell him enough to get him hopefully interested. I mention Iraq and the help I got. I also explain my trouble, four vs. one. They know the house that I will be coming to, and when.
I go back to my room and find it empty. I put clothes on and then head back downstairs. They have probably started dinner. I have the TV on, but I am distracted, I am worried about my life. I don't want to die.
Alice nudges me, "Um Ken, don't you think you're a bit old for cartoons?"