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The Black Tie Event looked like any other strip club. Located in
the Grieves Industrial district, is was a popular joint for anyone
wanting to watch some twenty-something year old stripper pull her
pussy open and slide it down a pole. The waitress served drinkings
wearing no more than a g-string while music pulsed to the theme of
the dancers. Pool tables sat untouched on the raised level of the
bar, while tables were scattered randomly around the stage. In the
corner of the preforming platform, a clear glass shower stood
sentient and curtains led behind to the dressing rooms. Pass the bar,
the hallway leading to the fire exit held VIP rooms. Fifty bucks and
the dancer of choice would rub her bare cunt on some bastard's pant
bulge.
Behind the bar a door led to the stockroom. From there was the
office and surveillance screens. They caught every piece of action
going on through live feed cameras position generously around the
bar. Should a grabby dick decide he would rather look than touch, the
bouncers wouldn't miss it. Many a fool found himself waking up near
the dumpsters out back, missing teeth and sore as hell.
The office belonged to Tony Calto. He managed the money, the girls
and the inventory. He was in charge of the Black Tie, but didn't own
it. The property itself, plus the 80% profit cut, went straight to
the man himself, Mr. Grieves. Tony looked like any sleeve strip club
manager, with greased back hair and a thin moustache. He wore suits
everyday, tie-less with the shirt opened at the collar. Tony was a
loyal yes-man. Wasn't shit that happened he didn't tell his boss.
Such devotion to the job paid well and there was no way Tony would
screw it up.
Mr. Grieves methods of disposing such mistakes was also good
motivation. When people fucked up, they went missing. It's common
knowledge in the city.
When Calto wasn't in the office counting coin, he often sat in the
corner booth. It was from there he could keep tabs on the business
best. The patrons and the customers. When idiots tried to cheat the
staff, or touch them too much, he could quickly dispatch the muscle.
These bulky monsters were Omar and Mike, two overly built bouncers
who never left Tony's side. They were his lapdogs. His security.
Slaves to the end.
It was in the booth that Tony was seated that night. Flanking both
ways in were his golems, the buffed giants standing quiet. Beside
Calto sat a young twenty year old, her hair and makeup done to the
nine. Before her was the application, a single sheet asking pointless
questions concerning a career in stripping off clothing for
strangers. Under the table, her hand stroked her potential boss's
cock, the short shaft jutting from the fly of his pants.
If a girl got that far, then she was hot enough to strip and
usually got the job.
When Mike turned to Tony, the interview had to be cut short.
Straightening in the seat, Tony spotted him at the entrance. With a
wave of annoyance, he dismissed the girl and hid the dick. The man
who had entered was short, with long banger hair and a thick beard.
Despite the dim lighting of the bar, he wore sunglasses to match his
three piece suit. Spotting Tony in the corner, he casually walked
over to the booth.
The man's name was Eric Wood, a direct associate of Mr. Grieves
himself. His job was that of an investor, by all sense. If Eric
didn't like something, then the boss didn't either. And when Mr.
Grieves doesn't care for something, he sends the Kids. The Kids were
known for dealing with shit quickly if not efficiently.
In laymen terms, when the Kids got involved, people die. Eric was
the ass Mr. Grieves' employees had to kiss.
When Eric approached, Omar and Mike were quick to give room, arms
crossed nervously.
“Mr. Wood.” Tony began the brown nosing quickly. “A pleasure
as always. What brings you here?”
With the glasses on, it was always difficult to tell his emotions.
“Mr. Grieves has asked me to look into our little investment.”
“Well,” Tony smiled, a wave of his arm towards the busy bar,
“as you can see, business is doing just fine.”
Eric lowered his head slightly. “Not the club, Tony. The
project.”
This silence Calto momentarily. The project, as it was, was a side
job tasked to him a week before. Nodding once, he shuffled out from
his booth and stood beside Mr. Wood. Indicating with his chin, the
two of them cross the strip joint, the two bouncers close behind.
They crossed behind the bar, where Jill stopped momentarily from
serving drinks to glance nervously towards Eric Wood. The two of them
entered the office, where sat a third member of the muscle, Gary. He
rose from the desk the moment he spotted Eric, but the man paid him
no heed. Following Tony, they went on to a door opposite that leading
into the bar. Tony knocked once and it was opened from inside by a
forth man. He was not an employee of Mr. Calto, but a security
measure placed by the big chief himself. This man was known for
talking little and stabbing frequently.
Beyond the door, a set of stairs led below. At the bottom, a light
glowed ominously. With Eric close behind him, Tony descended. Omar
and Mike stayed above. They were not allowed in the basement.
That was Grieves's territory completely.
The two men, now followed by Grieves's personal brute, walked down
a short corridor, the walls made of stone. Florescent bars lit the
way. At the end was another door, made of iron. Behind it was their
destination.
The moment they entered the room, the smell was strong. Piss and
shit. Bare and open, the walls were of the same foundation bricks, a
single support post in the centre. The concrete floor was cold even
through the soles of their shoes. The space was well light by
suspended bulbs, pull strings hanging.
In one corner, three naked girls crouched huddled together.
“There they are.” Tony presented them with a hand.
Eric Wood walked slowly towards them, bending for a good look at
them.
The girls themselves, they were pretty despite their situation. A
blond, brunette and natural redhead, they were each fit and curved,
with firm round breasts and shapely ass. Each of them had startling
eyes and lush lips. Each of them were too young to be in a strip
club. High-schoolers, blondie from the upper Estates, one from
Downtown Public and the brunette was from the french school, Ecole
Marrier.
These girls were not the usual wares. Not the sort to come looking
for a strip job at the prestigious Black Tie. They were daughters,
youthful and innocent. The kind of girls that would never submit to
the pull of easy money and degradation. Not at all what Grieves
hired, but exactly what the common John Smith wanted.
The three of them were not intimidated by the presence of Mr. Wood.
Quite contrary, in fact. They grinned sensually up at him. The
redhead reached up for him but stopped short, the wrist bound by a
leather strap, the chain leading to the wall. All three of them were
secured this way.
“They always smile this way?” Eric asked.
Tony joined his side and the girls looked towards him with the same
warmth. “Yeah. It's the drug. You'll never find more willing
bitches as these three.”
Mr. Wood reached out with a finger slowly. The brunette opened her
mouth willingly and he slid it in her lips. She sucked on it
suggestively. When he withdrew his finger and rose, she pouted.
“How often do you give it to them?”
Tony paused, as if the question caught him. “Um, as directed.
Once in the morning.”
“And their appetites?”
“Uh, as you can see, quite big.”
Eric turned to Tony with a frown. “I mean for food.”
Tony felt foolish. “Oh, that. Not much. We have problem feeding
them. They would rather fuck than do anything else.”
Eric considered it a moment. “Quite submissive, then?”
He smirked and indicated the three girls. “Feel free to find out
if you would like. When these cunts aren't taking the hit, they fuck
each other nuts. Wild shit. As if none of it is good enough.”
Mr. Wood stared at Tony a moment, rendering him uncomfortable. “How
often do you test this?”
He was taken aback. “Well, fuck, not me. That guy you sent
earlier this week. He came and fucked them. They fucked him, really.
Had him stumbling on his way out. The girls just went crazy with him.
And he did anything with them. They just let him do it.”
It seemed almost as if Eric would smile. “Good. Like a cattle
line, bred to perfection. We've had a few setbacks recently that has
upset Mr. Grieves.”
“Setbacks?”
When Mr. Wood started for the exit, Tony followed. “The boy who
came up with the drug. He was found murdered. By his friend.”
“No shit.” Tony got the door for him and the following bouncer.
“Turns out he told someone and that someone thought it would be a
good idea to use it on his girlfriend. Shit went down and he ended up
dead. We had the Kids take care of the fucking thief and his
girlfriend.”
They reached the stairs and Eric paused. “Then we had a suicide.
One of the cunts working the streets. She jumped from the Deer Cross
bridge.”
Tony suppressed a laugh. “Bitch wanted out I guess.”
“Free will is a bitch, Mr. Calto.”
When they entered the office, the door was closed behind them, the
forth man staying within the stairway.
“So,” Tony dared to question, “is Mr. Grieves putting an end
to this operation?”
“Not one bit. The formula was saved. This drug will proceed as
planned. The only issue is the food. The girls given to the boy, they
were found starving and wasted to nothing. They didn't want to eat.
They wanted to fuck. So badly that they did it to themselves.
Continuously.”
Tony chuckled. “Viagra for cunts.”
Eric suddenly closed in close to Calto and he recoiled defensively.
“This is serious, Tony.” He hissed. “There is a lot of money
invested in this drug. If the girls won't eat or drink, then they
won't be of any use to us. The idea is to create whores out of the
girl next door, not skinny starving junkies.”
Calto nodded quickly. “For sure. For sure.” He said fearfully.
“I get it completely. No use making hookers out of babes if those
babes keep dying.”
Eric stared intensely at Tony a moment, the man's face reflected in
the shades. Stepping back, Mr. Wood adjusted the coat of his suit.
“I'm glad you understand the importance here, Mr. Calto. This drug
is still in a very delicate experimental stage. We don't know yet of
any major side effects other than the eating that we need to watch
for. We're expecting that you keep a good fucking eye on things here,
Tony.”
He could only nod. Satisfied enough by the obedient response, Eric
turned and left the office.
When he was aware that the bouncer in the room was staring at him,
Tony spun and snapped. “Watch the fucking screens, not me.” When
he slicked his hair back, his forehead was damp with sweat.
Little heed was taken to the man behind the door. Or to the
agreement he had with Gary, the sentry watching the monitors. It was
a well kept secret between them that once the bar closed and they
found themselves alone, Gary would knock twice on the door. The man
within would open it and money was exchanged. Gary would then walk
down the corridor to where the girls awaited.
It was three days later since Mr. Wood had paid a visit. Three in
the morning and Gary entered the cell, greeted by the anxious smiles
of the girls. Grinning with anticipation, he closed the door behind
him.
The man at the entrance waited the allocated amount of time and
once an hour had pass, he proceeded towards the room. Opening the
door, he was immediately met by the blond. She stood before him,
blood coating her chin, a wild look in her eyes.
“What the fuck?” Was all he managed before she reached out with
one hand and grabbed his shirt. The other was missing, the stump at
her wrists chewed through.
That morning, Tony arrived early as he often did, letting himself
into the bar. Crossing the club, he made his way to the office.
Immediately he was concerned to find Gary missing. More importantly,
the door leading beyond was wide open.
“Gary?” He called out, hesitantly approaching the doorway.
Cautiously he headed forward, into the stone hallway. The cell was
open, pouring out light. The primal grunts of a woman echoed his way.
“Gary.” He called out, trying to see within the room as he came
closer. “You better hope on your life you're not fucking the cunts.
You left both doors open.”
He entered the room ad immediately the smell of blood filled his
senses. Nausea struck him like a blow and he leaned against the door
frame.
In the corner was the red head., splattered with crimson. She was
lying back, legs parted with her knees raised. She was gaunt and pale
as sin, her cheekbones showing prominently. In her hand, she held an
arm, once belonging to Gary the monitor guard. It had been torn from
his lifeless body which lay naked in the middle of the floor.
In the other corner, the blond lay cold and still on her stomach.
Her severed hand stuck out of her buttocks, blood smeared all along
her back. It blended with a copious amount of semen.
The red head looked up at Tony with a hungry gasp. With the arm,
she was masturbating furiously. She was bleeding profusely from her
vagina, the insides torn and broken.
“Fuck me.” She moaned, a hallow tone that rumbled in her chest.
“Fuck me. Please! It hurts!”
Doubling over, Tony Calto clutched his stomach and threw up.
Mr. Eric Wood had closed The Black Tie Event for the day. The girls
who were scheduled to dance were compensated greatly. In the cell
room, the red head was dead. So was Tony. The bullet hole he received
after leading Eric down to investigated bled out onto the floor.
Of The Kids, Bacca and Jar were present, working together to pick
blondie up off the floor and carry her out. Killy stood beside Mr.
Wood, staring at the red head. It took her three shots to the chest
to die. Each bullet didn't keep her from crawling, grasping pleading
as she begged to be fucked.
“It's a pity we will need to inform Mr. Grieves of this.” Eric
said, taking off his glasses. His grey eyes reflected the light of
the room.
Killy smirked and nudged him with her hip. “Fuck it, I'll do it.
I know how to soften the big guy above.”
“I expect you will.” He said, pocketing the shades. “He will
be quite disappointed.” He faced her. “And what about our guard,
Anvil?”
“He can't hide forever.” She smirked. “We have ways to find
people.”
“Don't be messy about it.” He said sternly. “We don't need
another mistake like last time.”
He turned and left the room.
“I'll be good, daddy.” Killy teased. Looking back into the
room, she glanced once more at the red head. Her hand lay limp over
her groin, a finger curved in. Even in death, the drug's lust
consumed her.
Smiling, Killy stepped out and
closed the door.
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