“What’s the matter, Gleason? Never seen a woman fucked out of her senses before?”

The man with the bulging briefcase had stepped – actually sidestepped – into the pool of light in the center of what was once a sunken dance floor. He leaned to one side, peering at the naked girl draped at the waist over the pool table. She was motionless; her long, silken, dark hair hid her face as she lay chest down on the felt-lined table, both arms extended like a sphinx.

Tobin sat in the surrounding darkness at a table on a raised, stepped platform above and behind the girl. She looked tiny. Her toes barely reached the floor, so her feet splayed apart, bowing her ankles away from each other and forming something like a U, or perhaps a cup to catch all the jizz that trickled in viscous rivulets down her thighs and over her calves, shining streaks catching and reflecting the light. A major portion of the ooze issued from her anus that was distended by the several cocks it had entertained and possibly a fist.

“Jesus, is she okay?” Gleason said, tentatively reaching toward her. “Is she alive for crissakes?”

“She’s fine,” Tobin replied. “She’s just passed out. She’s been fucked almost three hours straight. The guys are all wore out. I didn’t think the little minx was ever going to quit, then boom, out like a light.”

“Have you had someone check her? Christ, I don’t think she’s breathing.”

“Rocco checked her a few minutes ago. He’s a paramedic. But feel free to take her pulse if you want.”

Gleason lifted the girl’s wrist. “Hmm.”

He stepped around, took note of the girl’s gaping asshole and coughed. “She paid for this?”

“No, her husband paid for it. But she sure enjoyed herself.”

“Are you sure?”

“First thing I drum into their heads is pick a safe word. She never said it. Lots of them do, sometimes before things even get started. Makes no difference, no refunds. And some, like that little girl, get even more than they paid for.”

“Where the hell is the husband?”

“Well, that’s another thing. He’s in my private bar, getting loaded. Buyer’s remorse, I think they call it.”

“Jesus. Greg, I think you better see to this woman.”

“I thought I’d let her sleep it off. She’s got to be exhausted.”

“I’d feel better if you did.”

Tobin chuckled. “Okay. Here, sit down.”

Gleason stepped up to the platform and sat at the table as Tobin stepped past him.

“Rocco, Jules … come in here and carry Mrs. Blake to the powder room. Tell Heidi to help her clean up.”

Two well-muscled men stepped into the light. One, whom Gleason recognized as Rocco gently turned the woman over. She came to life. Rocco draped a towel over his arms before he slid them under her.

“Oooo, no baby, no more … I’m so sore.”

Rocco lifted her into his arms like a child.

“Banana, honey … banana, please.”

“See?” Tobin said as he turned back toward Gleason. “She remembered.”

“Banana?”

“That was her safe word.” Tobin turned back toward Rocco. Mrs. Blake had clasped her arms around his thick neck and was nuzzling against his shoulder.

“It’s all right, Mrs. Blake, Rocco’s just taking you someplace to clean up. Someone will help you.”

The woman sighed. Her whisper carried across the room. “You hurt me so bad, you terrible brute. God, I loved the way you hurt me.”

Tobin returned to the table and sat across from Gleason.

“Another satisfied customer,” Gleason said.

“Well, one is. The husband is feeling like shit right now. He was retching earlier. Seems he can’t take the reality, even if it is his fantasy come true. He’s feeling like a major piece of shit right now, shame like you’d never believe.”

“Are they all like that?”

“No, but enough of them are that I always get the money up front, and I always get it in writing … just like you told me.”

“Uh-huh. So, why did you want to see me?”

“There were some cops in here last week.”

“You spotted them, huh?”

“Easy. They were too young, too much in love. Our business is mostly long married couples, or rather couples married so long they need something extreme to fire up their sex. What’s that take: three years, five years, ten?” He shrugged.

“And these two were … what? Too fresh?”

“Guy and a girl. Early twenties. You could tell they were hot for each other. Probably just got tossed together for the assignment, and all the dirty talk got them even hotter. They were just falling in lust. I bet they stopped at his or her place before they returned to the squad.” Tobin laughed.

“So, what did you tell them?”

“I said I rent out my facility for private, adult recreation.”

“Good. Don’t ever say you’re taking money for sex.”

“The girl, though, kept pressing me about wanting to be whipped or flogged or whatever.”

“And how did you respond?”

“I said she was an adult, and she was free to do whatever she consented to.”

“You didn’t tell her you’d beat her, or get someone to beat her?”

“Of course not.”

“Good. Because in this state you cannot consent to be assaulted.”

“Really? Then how can they have hockey games, or football? How about boxing?”

“That’s precisely the argument we’d use on appeal, but it’s never come to that because no one wants to take it that far. Then they’ll need new legislation and such, and meanwhile maybe you’ve outlawed hockey season.”

“Not likely.”

“No, very unlikely.”

“Look,” Tobin said, “I gave them nothing, but I’m wondering if there’s a new push to crackdown on my sort of services, what with the tight-ass party looking to regulate how everyone fucks.”

“There’s been an uptick in my business,” Gleason agreed. “Greg, the best way to handle trouble is not get into it in the first place. Do what you’re doing; be careful. We’ll handle it if anything … well, if you run into any legal difficulty.”

“I’ve always wondered, Gleason. How’d you get into this? Did you set out to be the Perv Lawyer?”

Gleason laughed. “You know, I was upset when that fucking tabloid called me that on their front page, but Jesus, what a pile of business came my way. I nearly sent the publisher a thank-you note.”

Tobin laughed too. “So, how did you get into it?”

“A couple of cases that Flynnie sent my way. All of a sudden I realized there were people out there who needed legal advice – protection – because of their unconventional lifestyles, or businesses. It opened up a niche. I remember one of my first clients. She wanted to have a slave contract drawn up because she was scared to death somehow someone was going to take away her ‘pet.'”

“Did you do it?”

“Couldn’t. I had to explain there was a little matter called the Thirteenth Amendment. So, I drew up a partnership covenant.”

Tobin shook his head and chuckled. “It’s amazing what comes through my door. The scenarios some people want. But hey, like you said, it’s a niche. I’m not going to pass up the money. Beats trying to get by as a saloon keeper.”

“Yeah, well I sense a little remorse on your part too, Greg.”

Tobin shrugged. “I give people what they pay for. But, sometimes they get more than they bargained for. That guy retching and crying in my back room. He’s going to hate himself for a long time, maybe forever. His wife, maybe she will too, hate him for hating himself. I don’t know what kind of marriage they had before they came in here, but …”

“Feeling guilty, Greg?”

“Not guilt, exactly. They’re fucking adults; they make their own decisions. Hell, maybe I’m doing them a favor by showing them what and who they really are. And then there are those who just have a good time. So, screw it, but then, I find myself thinking about … oh, hell, I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“Let me give you some advice as a friend, not a lawyer: if it begins to bother you so much you lose sleep over it, give it up.”

“Not that much, yet.”

“You still do mostly gang-bang scenarios, I take it.”

“That’s definitely at the top of popularity. Amazes the shit out of me how many guys want to see their wives fucked by a half dozen or so men. It’s almost always the guy’s idea too. Like I said, we’ve had scenes that never launched because the wife said no. Funny, they try to do it for their husband. Maybe they think it’ll patch up some hole in the marriage, but right at the last minute …”

“And the women who go along with it?”

“Well, I don’t think any of them just go along with it. They do it, they’re into it. Oh, it might be convenient for them to say they did it just to please hubby, but they aren’t about to pass up an opportunity like that.”

“Cynical, Greg, very cynical … but very sound observation.” Gleason smiled and raised a glass Tobin had poured for him.

“We’ve had some single women too.”

“Huh?”

“Usually very cool and collected. But they come here looking to have some ravishment fantasy fulfilled.”

“You mean rape fantasy, don’t you?”

“No, ‘ravishment’ is more like it. They don’t want to be jumped; they want to be seduced and taken. All confidentially of course.”

“Well, you do provide a unique service. You don’t advertise, I hope.”

“Word of mouth.”

“Good. That’ll keep you out of the public eye too. For a while anyway.”

“Yeah, I don’t need a signpost out there pointing the cops to my door. Thanks for coming by.”

“Take care, Greg.”

* * * * *

Tobin said goodbye to the Blakes in the public lounge. Mrs. Blake was walking a bit stiffly, but still managed to move in a way that broadcast: ‘You want me.’ Mr. Blake looked like he’d just gotten through a bad bout of the flu. He wouldn’t look at Tobin.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Tobin,” Mrs. Blake purred. “It was a … life-changing experience.”

She was so petite, delicate, Tobin thought; she could easily be mistaken for an Asian, especially a compliant yet sexually insatiable fantasy Asian. But she was a predator, and way out of her husband’s league.

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Blake.”

“Please, call me Maria.”

Tobin just nodded. “Are you going to be okay, Mr. Blake? We can call you a cab.”

“That … that’ll be fine. Thank you.”

Tobin could see that Mr. Blake couldn’t wait to be out of there. He had ‘what have I done?’ written all over his face in flashing neon.

Tobin was glad to be rid of them. He returned to the lounge which was beginning to fill with young office workers ready to unwind from the day.

He knocked on the bar with his knuckles. “Larry! Scotch.”

The bartender poured him a shot. He tossed it back and nodded for a refill. This one he sipped.

He leaned with his back to the bar and surveyed the patrons. A couple sat close together on high stools at a table for two. Her skirt crept up her thigh and her knee touched his. Tobin watched as the man gingerly reached under the table and placed his hand just above her knee. Her face brightened into a smile.

Just falling in lust, Tobin thought. He projected a future for them. They’d likely fuck on the first date, keep it hot for the next few and he’d propose. Married in a year. Then a few years, maybe a kid or two later, if they made enough money, they’d be back, asking him to arrange ‘a scene.’ The same sort of scene the Blakes had paid for maybe, or maybe something even kinkier, depending on how far they’d drifted from their original flashpoint.

Gleason was right, Tobin was getting cynical, but then he’d always been a realist. He didn’t believe in happily-ever-afters. But his cynicism was growing sour. He was beginning not to like himself and he hated that because logic told him he wasn’t a bad guy. He provided a service, and God knows – if there was a god to know such things – that it was an essential service.

“Fuck it,” he said to himself. “The money’s too good.”

“You say something, boss?” Larry shouted over the din.

“Huh? No, I’m good.”

The bar phone rang. A moment later Larry stepped over to Tobin.

“Boss, Heidi says there’s a couple of people waiting to talk to you in your office.”

“Oh, shit. Yeah, forgot I had an appointment. Okay, thanks.”

Tobin stepped around the bar to a narrow corridor hidden in the gloom. It opened into a larger hallway on the other side of the building bordered by nondescript offices.

He entered one. Heidi had just served drinks to a couple. Tobin walked around them and sat at his desk.

“Sorry, uh, Mr. and Mrs. Stassen?”

“Neil and Tracy,” the wife replied.

“Nice to meet you.”

The wife drew her knee up and cupped it in her hands baring a good deal of thigh. The husband’s eyes immediately slid over to take in the overtly flirtatious gesture.

“Very, very nice to meet you, Mr. Tobin. It’s Greg, isn’t it?”

Tobin nodded and smiled.

“You’re very attractive, Greg. I don’t know what I was expecting; perhaps some hulking, swarthy impresario of … what? Nastiness?”

“Mrs. Stassen …”

“Tracy, please.”

“Okay, Tracy … It’s important that we all understand and agree on what exactly you expect me to provide.”

“Well, then let me tell you,” Tracy said, leaning toward him and revealing a deep shadowed valley between her pushed-up breasts.

She slid a sidelong glance at her husband and her lips tightened into a flirty pout.

“It’ll be our tenth anniversary. We want to experience something special and act out a fantasy Neil and I have only pretended at, you know, in our own bedroom.”

Tobin smiled, nodded and waited.

“Neil … likes to be teased. Don’t you honey?”

The husband nodded, but he didn’t look at Tobin. His cheeks were beginning to flush.

“He likes to be teased unmercifully,” Tracy said, looking right at Tobin. She licked her lips.

“The fact is … he likes to be teased in a most humiliating fashion. The more it hurts, the more he likes it. He’s happiest when I’ve made him spill tears, isn’t that so, dear?” She didn’t look at him.

“I … uh … please, Tracy … I don’t think …” Neil’s ears were burning red.

“Honey, who said you should think?”

She was still gazing into Tobin’s eyes. He maintained a half-smile poker face.

“Greg … would it surprise you to know that I think you are so hot? Would it surprise you to know that my pussy is oozing and my panties are soaked just imagining you throwing me down on this desk and filling me with your big cock. Are you wondering how I know you have a big cock?” She winked.

“Somehow … I’m not surprised at all.”

“Then you think I’m a slut.”

Tobin smiled.

“You’d like Greg to fuck me, wouldn’t you, dear?”

Neil coughed.

“It’s all right, honey, you can tell him … but ask him nice.”

Neil cleared his throat. “Please, Mr. Tobin. Would you like to … fuck … fuck Tracy?”

Tobin took a deep breath. “I’m afraid it’s a business policy to maintain a professional distance from my clients.”

Neil let out a long sigh. A momentary twitch of irritation marred Tracy’s pout.

“Shame,” she said, and leaned back in her chair.

“I’m very … flattered,” Tobin said, “But let’s talk about how I can help fulfill your anniversary fantasy.”

Tracy sighed. “Well, Neil needs to see me fucked, but first he needs to see me seduced and … claimed.”

“Claimed?”

“Yes, he needs to watch helplessly, or perhaps … cowardly … while another man or men seduce, degrade, and claim me as their own … he needs to understand they are taking me away from him, and that he is to be made to watch them … well, rape me, and have me respond and surrender. He needs to see me made into their slut.”

Tracy’s chest was lifting and falling like a bellows. Tobin thought she was going to make herself come in front of him and her husband.

“I see,” Tobin said. “How many men do you want to … partake? And how, shall we say, roughly, do you want to be treated?”

“Oh, six should be sufficient, I’ll put up token resistance, of course. A face slap or two would be exciting. But there’s one more, very important thing.”

“Yes?”

“To make Neil’s humiliation deliciously complete – because I want my darling to cherish this memory always …”

“Yes?” Tobin and Neil had said it at the same time.

“Neil too should be ravished.”

“Tracy?” Neil squeaked.

“Neil, we’ve pretended that you were made to suck a cock.”

“But, Tracy …”

“It turned you on. You came all over the sheets, darling.”

“Yes … but, I don’t know if I could really …”

“You will, honey; you will and you’ll like it. Because it’ll make you feel so dirty. You want to be my little cocksucker, don’t you? You want to show me you like to suck cock, don’t you? I would love to see it; won’t you do it for me?”

“I … I … yes, Tracy … yes, I will.”

“I love you, snookums.”

“I love you too, Tracy.”

She looked straight at Tobin again. There was a gleam of triumph in her eyes.

“You’re sure that’s okay with you, Mr. Stassen?”

Neil’s head was nearly in his lap. He whispered, “Yes.”

“Heidi will write up the proposal and I’ll need you both to sign it, indicating your consent and a waiver of liability. It will also state that you are paying for the rental of the facilities only. The fee will be $8,500.”

Neil stiffened in his seat and turned around. He apparently hadn’t realized that Heidi was still in the room, taking it all down and bearing witness to his humiliation. He shrank back into his seat.

“Are your pants sticky, baby?” Tracy teased.

“All the actors in my employ are tested regularly for communicable diseases,” Tobin said. “I still recommend condoms, but clients have requested no condoms …”

“No condoms, please,” Tracy said. “Bareback … totally.”

“Okay. You are responsible for providing your own form of contraception. Also, precautions run both ways. You will also be required to visit a clinic of my designation at a specific time before the event and be certified. You will remain celibate, or restrict yourselves to sex with each other until the event. Even with all these precautions I can’t guarantee a totally risk-free encounter, but we’ve been doing this for a while and … so far so good. But you need to keep that in mind.”

“Just tell us where to sign, Greg. Whew! I’m so … agitated.” Tracy’s grin was dazzling, manic.

“The paperwork will be ready by tomorrow. I’ll require a cashier’s check, please.”

Heidi showed the Stassens out. When she returned Tobin leaned back in his seat and mused, “Is it me, or are these people all beginning to sound the same? I don’t think I can tell them apart anymore.”

“Boss, as long as you keep signing my checks, it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Doesn’t leave a bad taste in your mouth sometimes?”

Heidi sat down and placed her notes on Tobin’s desk. She took a deep breath; her crisp white blouse, already straining to contain her formidable bosom, looked like it was about to pop a button, maybe a few. She coursed a finger behind her ear as if searching out a stray enhanced-blonde hair. There weren’t any.

“You know,” she said finally, “Back when I was stripping – about a hundred years ago – I got to understand how some guys let their grip on reality slip, got to thinking – believing – that I or one of the other girls was really his girlfriend, that she really cared about them. The girls would milk them for tips, even gifts. I didn’t, but some of the other girls did. It never turned out well. The guys would make pests of themselves; try to follow the girls home. We had some bad scenes where they’d be banned from the club. Had some girls get hurt. It’s always dicey when you try to convert fantasy to reality. Some people can handle it – lots of others can’t. But, hey, I’m glad for the job, boss.”

Tobin smiled. “I’d say I was glad to have hired you, but you’d probably hit me up for a raise.”

“Now that you mention it …”

“Nice try. Seriously, though, what do you make of this last couple … Mrs. and Mrs. Stassen?”

“Seriously? Are you serious?”

“C’mon, you must have an opinion.”

“She’s a piece of work, but he’s in the driver’s seat.”

“You think so?”

“She’s taking his cues … he can’t wait to give some guy a blowjob in front of her.”

“She’s not into it as much?”

“Oh, she’s into it all right … but she has her own agenda. She definitely wants what’s coming to her, but she has ulterior motives … you can hear the wheels and cogs whirring in her head.”

“Jesus, you women are scary the way you read each other.”

“Takes one to …”

“Yeah.”

“I better get this printed, make appointments with the clinic. You want to bring in the usual suspects?”

“Yeah, sounds like a job for Rocco and the boys.”

* * * * *

Tobin returned to the lounge intending to settle himself at a table in a dim corner where he could take a cat nap if he wanted without anyone noticing. He stopped at the bar long enough to grab a tonic water and lime and headed for a corner table. He casually scanned the room for the couple that had been playing footsie and feelsie, but they had left.

He leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He must have nodded off immediately. He awoke with a start when the girl sat across the table from him.

“Huh? Miss? Something I can do for you?”

She folded one hand over her other and looked down at the table. “Um.”

“Yes?”

“You don’t remember me; not that I’d expect you to.”

Tobin shook his head and tried to place her face somewhere in his memory. She was slight, petite, dark hair that didn’t quite reach her shoulders. Sensible office attire; nothing remarkable.

“About eight months ago, I completed a transaction with you for my boss.”

“I’m sorry … transaction?”

“I … I brought you a cashier’s check. My boss is Evelyn Hasley.”

The name rang a bell. She was the CFO of a biotech company that had just begun publicly trading after breaking into the scene with some wonder drug or other. Tobin tried to recall her kink. Then he remembered: The Inquisition.

Ms. Hasley wanted an elaborate scene in which she would be tortured and ravished by mad monks. He recalled how much fun the guys had dressing up in costumes of ancient clerics. She was to be called Marta, an innocent peasant girl accused of witchcraft and condemned to be burned at the stake, but not before her body was thoroughly examined by the High Inquisitor and his minions.

It took him weeks to set it up, but she dropped ten grand in his lap for his efforts. Her only regret: they didn’t actually immolate her. That unsettled him.

He vaguely remembered the mousy assistant who dropped off the check with some last-minute requests.

“Okay, yes, I remember … Miss … sorry, I forget your name.”

“Kerry Barnes.”

Tobin nodded as if he recognized the name.

“Mr. Tobin, Ms. Hasley didn’t tell me what she was … paying for. Not until some months later.”

“She did? And?”

She shrugged. “Well, nothing really. She makes a lot of money; she ought to be able to buy … whatever … she wants.”

“And, what’s your interest in our past business, Miss Barnes?”

“I, obviously, don’t make as much money as Ms. Hasley. But, I can see … well, the opportunity to realize one’s deepest … darkest fantasy. How … wonderful must that be?”

“Miss Barnes. I think everyone should be careful what they wish for.”

“I have a fantasy … would you … like to hear it?”

“That would be none of my business, Miss …”

“Please?” Her plea surprised him.

“Okay.”

She laced her fingers and lowered her head. For a second he thought she’d recite a Hail Mary.

“It’s … an awful thing. No woman would really wish it.”

Tobin sipped his tonic water and waited.

“I often pass an area … It’s between a construction site and a vacant lot. Anyway, sometimes I walk by there on the way to the subway. Men gather there … homeless men. Some of them are quite old … and dirty-looking.”

Tobin sipped his tonic again, leaned back and released a long exhale.

“Anyway, at night, in my bed, I imagine approaching them … and … It’s like they have some strange power over me, drawing me to them. They gather around me. They don’t say anything; they don’t tell me what to do. They just grin and cackle … and I … strip for them.”

Tobin maintained his poker face.

“When I’m entirely naked they come closer; they put their hands on me. They begin to call me awful things. Some take my clothes away; I can hear them being ripped and torn to pieces. And their hands are all over me. They drag me to a place out of sight and then they … they …”

“Can I get you a drink, Miss Barnes?”

“They rape me!” She blurted it out like something that had been caught in her throat. She trembled.

“Drink?” he asked again.

“Yes, please, thank you.”

He signaled the bartender.

Her breathing was labored, as if she just came in from a jog.

Larry appeared and put an amber shot in front of her.

“It’s whisky,” Tobin said.

She raised the glass, her hand shaking, but managing to reach her lips. A few drops ran off her chin but she swallowed it down and winced from the burn.

“They all have me,” she said finally. “They violate me every way you can imagine. And I orgasm … over and over. There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?”

Tobin shrugged. “Well, you do get worked up, and just using your imagination. But otherwise, I suspect you are perfectly normal, Miss Barnes.”

“Normal?”

“Rape fantasies … pretty common … among women. The dirty old men, well, that brings an element of humiliation, or perhaps even punishment into the mix.”

“Punishment? You think I want to be punished, Mr. Tobin?”

“I think you have a healthy, first-rate imagination, Miss Barnes. The drink is on the house. Nice talking to you; I have to get back to work …” He began to get up.

“Mr. Tobin … you employ people … to act out scenes.”

He settled back down. “I do.”

“Are they … professional?”

“Professional what?”

“I just …”

“They’re actors … some are professional actors, yes. Others are just good at it, and reliable.”

“Would you consider … hiring me?”

“Miss Barnes, you understand what my employees do? Do you really?”

“Yes. I’d like to … would you give me a chance?”

He was tempted to say yes. There was something beguiling about her, maybe because the face and package didn’t match the over-the-top yearning to get banged by a bunch of old bums.

“Who do you fuck, Miss Barnes, and how frequently?”

“I … but …”

“I need to know you are relatively risk-free health-wise. If you have a steady boyfriend you’re probably okay; if you’re in the habit of allowing street bums to screw you …”

“That’s just a fantasy.”

“Boyfriend?”

“No … no one … for some time.”

“That’s hard to believe. You’re a pretty girl.”

“I … I work so much.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Give me a chance, Mr. Tobin. I really think …”

“You could do a good job?”

“Shall I audition?”

Tobin chuckled and shook his head. “No. But before I bring you on, I may have you observe a few scenes. You may change your mind.”

“When?”

“Leave me your phone number and when you’re available. I’ll call.”

“Thank you, Mr. Tobin.”

As she stood and walked away Tobin drew a thumb across his lips and hissed, “Jesus H.”

* * * * *

Larry waved him over to the bar.

“Boss, Heidi’s got a guy in your office, and Rocco said he’d see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“He’s coming with the guys?”

“Four of them.”

“Okay.”

Heidi greeted him at his office door. She rolled her eyes as she stepped past him.

A man stood stiffly by his desk, his jaw set as if he’d been grinding his teeth; his chin jutted out. He looked like he expected the world to kiss his ass.

“Mr. Tobin.”

“Yes.”

“Howard Gray. I was here on time.”

“Yes, Mr. Gray, and I appreciate that very much.”

“Yes, well, I was made to understand you provide a most unique service.”

Tobin walked around him and sat at his desk. Gray looked down at him.

“Have a seat, Mr. Gray?”

Gray sat. Tobin thought too emphatically.

“Is Mrs. Gray not here?”

“No need.”

“I like to have both partners present when we discuss …”

“I said no need, Mr. Tobin. My wife and I are in agreement.”

“I’d rather hear that from her, but okay. And, what did you have in mind?”

“I am an educator and administrator. My wife is also an educator. She is presently situated with an exclusive, very prestigious boys’ preparatory school.”

“I see. Shaping young minds … yes.”

Gray squinted, eying him curiously. “Ahem … the thing of it is, Mr. Tobin, we have shared … imagined, if you will, her … and her students … uh …”

“A classroom gang bang.”

“That’s a crude term.”

“All right, seduction, violation by multiple individuals acting in concert. How’s that?”

“Not a seduction, per se. She is to be taken, quite forcefully, made to do things.”

“It can be arranged. It will take a little time to hire the young men; they would have to appear as young as your wife’s students.”

“No, Mr. Tobin. I … we want boys … teenagers.”

“I’m afraid that isn’t going to happen, Mr. Gray.”

“I was told …”

“You misunderstood. What we do skirts the law, but we don’t cross it. You want to stage a make-believe rape, but if we use kids under legal age, it’s a real rape, and it’ll be you and your wife who will be the rapists … statutorily speaking, but it amounts to the same thing.”

“I was told you could arrange anything.”

“Illusions, Mr. Gray. You suspend your disbelief and play along.”

“That’s not what I came here for. You have wasted my time.”

“I’m sorry. If it’ll make you feel any better, you wasted my time too.”

Gray stood and stormed out, nearly hitting Heidi with the door as she was about to enter.

“Whoa! Who put a bug up his ass?”

“He wanted teenagers to fuck his wife. Can you believe that shit?”

“Well, remember those sisters who wanted to be waylaid by elves in the forest?”

“Jesus, yes!” Tobin laughed. “They were little guys, but they were of age. Who knew they had their own local?”

Tobin caught his breath. “Okay, check out this girl for me. She might come to work for us. Maybe have Flynnie do a background on her.”

He handed Kerry Barnes’ information to Heidi. “Anything else on the calendar?”

“That Stassen woman called. She’s made another request; she wants an audience.”

“That’ll cost extra.”

“I told her. No problem.”

Tobin shrugged. “You get what you pay for.”

* * * * *

Tobin helped Larry clean up after last call and locked up. It had been a long day.

Outside he took in a deep breath of cool, damp air.

“Mr. Tobin?”

He turned toward the voice. Kerry Barnes stood half in shadow near a recessed doorway.

“Miss Barnes, what the hell are you doing here? You haven’t been waiting for me all night, have you?”

“I was hoping to talk to you some more; I promise, I’m not stalking you.”

“Maybe not, but you’re making me nervous, to say the least.”

“I’m so sorry. I know I’m out of line.”

“A bit.”

“I just needed to ask you something.”

“It couldn’t wait?”

“Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, please, don’t let … that is, I hope this won’t dissuade you from considering me.”

“How are you getting home?”

“Walking, I guess.”

“Close by?”

She shrugged.

“Great. All right, I’ll walk you to the subway station, if I don’t spot a cab first.”

“You don’t have to …”

“Yes, I do.”

He gestured to her to join him. “This way?”

“Yes.”

They had walked a short distance.

“Mr. Tobin … I was wondering … what I wanted to know … is it really possible to turn a fantasy into reality?”

He glanced at her, then zipped his jacket against the chill.

“That blouse can’t be doing much against this damp air.”

She touched a finger to the button below her neck. “I’m okay. Please, Mr. Tobin, is it possible?”

“I have no idea, Miss Barnes. What I set up are little … dramas. It’s all playacting. When they’re over everyone goes back to living their life.”

“But, can it change someone?”

“Change?”

“Turn them into … I guess, another person.”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Miss Barnes. It might give someone some insight into themselves. Believe me, not everyone leaves happy.”

“But … is it possible, really possible to cross that line into fantasy, so the fantasy becomes your life?”

He stopped and held her in his gaze. “Okay, let me show you what’s fantasy and what’s reality. Where’s that vacant lot you told me about with all the dirty bums mulling around?”

“It’s on the way.”

“Fine, show me.”

He followed her along darkened streets; they were in sight of the subway stop when she stopped and pointed toward a trash-strewn field.

Tobin stopped and peered into the shadows. A fire contained by an old metal barrel flickered. A group of figures huddled around it.

“C’mon,” he said, and gestured to her to follow him toward the flame.

“But …” She hesitated, then followed him.

Four of them stood around the barrel. Another two lay on piles of rags and newspapers on the ground. They looked startled.

Tobin grinned, then turned. He called after her. “C’mere, hurry up.”

She stepped beside him. She trembled under the gaze of the homeless men. Tobin stepped behind her, then his arms crossed her chest and his fingers began to pluck at the buttons of her blouse, which was damp. From the air, or her perspiration, he wondered.

“What? What are you doing?”

“Quiet.” He tugged her blouse open, exposing her chest to the men. In a second his hand was working at the clasp of her bra. Before she could protest again he unfastened it and lifted it off her breasts.

“You like these tits, guys?”

She tried to cover herself with her arms but he pulled them away.

“Nice tits, huh? You want some?”

She was shaking as if the earth were quaking beneath her.

A couple of the men chuckled. The rest just gazed at her dumbly.

“Well, whaddya say? Pretty young titties to play with, and nice wet pussy to fuck. She won’t put up a fight.”

“I’ll squeeze ’em for ya, pal. You got any booze?” The bum stepped around the others.

“No, no booze.”

“Got money?”

“Nah, broke.”

“Shit. How ’bout the cunt?”

“No … all she has are these tasty titties.”

“Shit … get the fuck outta here. Take the skinny bitch with ya. Fuckin’ asshole.”

Tobin laughed. “C’mon, let’s go.”

She tried to pull her blouse together as she tottered after him.

“Well, so much for your fantasy,” he said.

“Why’d you do that?”

“To make a point. Those guys have no interest in fucking anyone, much less raping anyone. They’re so steeped in bad alcohol I doubt any of them could even get it up. All they want is their next slug of rotgut. You could have stripped down, bent over and drawn them an arrow to your pussy and all they’d be interested in is whether you could get them a bottle. That’s the difference between fantasy and reality.”

He spotted a cab and hailed it. He opened the door and handed some bills to the driver. Before he pushed her in he slipped off his jacket and put it over her shoulders.

“Take the lady home; keep the change.”

The cab pulled away.

* * * * *

Tobin downed a late breakfast and stumbled into the saloon around 3 p.m. Heidi had prepared the paperwork for the Stassens and put out a call for supporting players. The bill was going to be above ten grand, maybe fifteen, but she’d already received Mr. Stassen’s approval.

“Clinic appointments are set up,” Heidi said as she slid a mug of coffee across the desk to Tobin.

“Rocco here yet?”

“He and the boys are in the locker room.”

“Good.”

Tobin walked a short way along the corridor to a room that adjoined the private lounge. He entered a room lined with metal lockers that would not have looked out of place at any workout club.

“Boss, what ya got for us?”

Rocco stood with one foot planted on a bench wearing a sleeveless red shirt and black shorts. Tobin always marveled at the shape he was in, a bodybuilder’s sculpted muscles, but with none of the grotesquery. Michelangelo would have creamed himself to sculpt Rocco, Tobin thought.

“I say something funny, Boss?” Rocco pushed a hand back over tight, wavy black hair.

“No, I was just thinking of … never mind.” Tobin counted heads.

“Okay, Rocco, and we have Ben, Tully, Jim, Teddy. We’re going to need one more; who do we have available who’s bi?”

“Bi?” Rocco asked.

“In this scene hubby gets forced to give a blow job.”

“Hell, he can blow me.”

Every head snapped toward Rocco. “What?” he said.

“You’re not serious.”

“What’s the big deal? You close your eyes it’s just another mouth.”

“I never would have thought.”

“What? Don’t mean I’m gay; I still get to bang the missus, right? I hope she’s as hot as the last one we did.”

“Very … if you like that type. It was her idea for hubby to eat dick.”

“Whoa, she sounds like some cat.”

“Claws and all. Well, if you want to do the honors, fine with me. We still need another guy. How about Eric?”

“Eric’s gonna be on the DL for a while. He had knee surgery just last week. Sean’s available.”

“Okay, call him for me. I’ll set it up for some time next week and let you know.”

“What’s the scene?” Ben asked.

“Standard … you guys ought to know it in your sleep by now. Hubby and wife show up at the bar, you guys move in on the wife, get her on the dance floor, feel her up. She makes token protests. So does hubby, but you put him in his place. Make loud remarks about why she’s married to a wimp. Then just fuck the shit out of her, you know, like real men.”

The guys chuckled.

Tobin told them what their approximate cut would be, eliciting appreciative nods. Then they filed out. Rocco hung back and clapped Tobin on the shoulder; it felt like he’d been hit with a side of beef.

“Jesus!”

“Sorry, boss. That shoulder still giving you trouble?”

“Only when you try to dislocate it.”

Tobin had known Rocco since the night he dragged him out of the wreck that had been his car after a juiced-up soccer mom on her cell phone crashed a van full of kids into it. A paramedic with the Fire Department, Rocco rode with him in the ambulance to the ER. They became friends during that short ride as Rocco told him of his aspirations to be a porn actor, and Tobin unreeled his ideas for turning his barely-making-it saloon into a clandestine sex club.

“Sorry, I wanted to talk to you,” Rocco said.

“Yeah?”

“You heard the city’s likely to lay off some people.”

“I thought you guys and the cops were safe.”

“I think so; meanwhile, I heard from a producer, so I might be heading out to L.A.”

“Wow, when?”

“Not for another month … maybe. He liked my pictures, but he thought I was a little short.”

“Short? You’re six-two …”

“Not that kinda short.”

“Are they nuts? That schlong of yours is a monster.”

“Average for the business, he said.”

“That’s hard to believe. I always thought they used camera tricks.”

“Anyway, whatever happens, I just wanted to say thanks for the gigs. The rest of the guys feel the same way. Getting paid for this …”

“I thought you’d guys would be pretty jaded by now.”

“Never … you kidding? Anyway, just wanted to tell ya, you’re okay, Greg.”

“Thanks. And you guys are reliable; just stay healthy.”

Tobin made his way back to his office.

“Here’s Flynn’s report on that girl you asked about.” Heidi handed him an envelope.

He sat and slid his finger along the seal and unfolded the contents.

“Hmm, who the hell names their kid Psyche?”

“Huh?”

“This girl told me her name was Kerry … Kerry Barnes. Seems she was born Psyche Andersfield. Parents were some kind of intellectuals … that explains it. I figured that or old hippies. Orphaned at 17, due to parents killed in an accident in Greece. Lived with relatives briefly, then off to fend for herself.”

“Any money from the folks?”

“Not much. She had to go to work. Never went to college. Different secretarial jobs, until she landed at Pharma-Gene and was made executive assistant to our client Evelyn Hasley a short time later. Looks like she’s pulling in some big salary, some resentment in the office … That’s to be expected. That’s it.”

“Nice normal girl, then.”

“What’s normal? Anyway, there’s something a little off about this girl. I wonder how she managed to charm Hasley into giving her that big promotion.”

“Why don’t you ask her? She’s been in the lounge since just before you arrived.”

“What?”

“Sipping ginger ales.”

“Jesus.”

“Seems you two are fascinated with each other.” Heidi chuckled.

“Anything on for today?”

“Just Mr. Andrews.”

“Our best repeat customer,” Tobin said, shaking his head. “Everything all set up?”

“Little girl’s bedroom, all pink, lots of stuffed animals.”

“And Katie?”

“Getting changed as we speak. I think she genuinely likes him, gets a charge out of the scene, besides the bucks, of course.”

“Okay.”

Tobin tossed Flynn’s report into a drawer and went to the lounge. He knew enough to scan the dim corners; then he spotted Kerry.

“Okay if I join you?”

She nodded at him to sit down as she sipped her drink through a straw.

“You must have pretty relaxed hours at that job of yours.”

“It was a light day; Ms. Hasley told me to take the afternoon off.”

Larry called across the room to him. “Tonic and lime,” Tobin replied.

Larry brought it over. Tobin took a sip.

“You frightened me last night,” Kerry said. “I … I didn’t know what to do … what you were going to do.”

“You weren’t at all concerned at what those bums would do?”

“I … I guess, they wouldn’t do anything.”

“Oh yes they would, if they were jonesing, and they were desperate for a drink. They might rap you across the head, rob you, take anything they might be able to sell or pawn. But the last thing they’d likely do is fuck you.”

“You made that excruciatingly clear.”

“I just wanted to disabuse you of this notion of yours that you can fold real life into a fantasy. The best we can do is playacting.”

“Are you so sure? Some people believe we lead another life in our dreams just by closing our eyes.”

“And so what if we do? It’s complicated enough keeping track of this life.”

“But you help people to realize their fantasy lives.”

“Not realize, act out. It’s not the same, and for a very good reason.”

“Good reason?”

“Like maybe staying out of jail … or shaming your family. Is that good reason enough? I’m like a guy who runs an amusement park, I offer a manufactured thrill.”

“You can transcend that … really, you can. You said you would let me know if I could work for you.”

“Okay, first I want you to see something.”

He stood and she followed him along the wall to the hidden corridor. He led her through the locker room and through another door leading to the private lounge.

Kerry stopped to gaze at a bedroom scene set in the center of the sunken floor, all in juvenile pink. A girl was curled up as if asleep in the bed.

An Asian girl sat at a table in the surrounding gloom. She stood to greet Tobin.

“It’s okay, Susie; I’ll keep an eye on things.”

“Okay, Mr. Tobin … you sure?”

“Yeah, you’re good for the rest of the afternoon. Don’t forget to stop by the office and get your check from Heidi.”

“Okay, thanks, Mr. Tobin.”

“Catch ya later, kid.”

He invited Kerry to sit with him at the table Susie had just vacated.

“I have someone monitor every scene, just in case something goes awry.”

“Like what?”

“Like – so far – nothing, but I can’t take any chances. These things can get pretty emotional, frenzied.”

They watched the girl in the bed for a brief time. A man who appeared to be in his late thirties stepped into the scene. He wore pajamas.

Tobin whispered. “This guy, he leads a routine life, married, a few kids, house, mortgage, his own consulting business.”

Kerry peered at the man. “What … what’s he …?”

“He has a sister, a couple of years older. When they were young kids they shared a bedroom, used to cuddle together when thunderstorms rolled by … nothing untoward, just kids being kids. Of course, when they closed in on puberty their parents put an end to those arrangements. Problem is, ever since he’s had this attraction to his sister. He would never act on it, of course, he’s not a creep. But he was having trouble keeping it under control. He was tempted to talk to his sister about it. She’s married with kids, too. He thought it better to keep it under wraps, no matter how much it gnawed at him. But then he blurted out his sister’s name while he was screwing the wife.”

The man stood at the foot of the girl’s bed. “Ellie?”

The girl came awake, rubbing her eyes. “Adam? What are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t sleep … could I stay with you?”

“But Adam, you’re a big boy now.”

“I know … but I miss you.”

“If mom and dad find out we’ll be in big trouble.”

“I’ll be quiet. Please?”

“Oh … okay, but just to snuggle, okay?”

The man eagerly slid under the bedclothes with the girl.

Tobin leaned toward Kerry. “After he came to me, it took us almost a year to find a girl who closely resembled his sister, at least enough to make it convincing. Katie’s 27, but she’s an amazing actress … passes for 14 … convincingly.”

“Oh, my, I thought she was 14.”

The man and the girl held each other in a tight embrace.

“Adam, don’t do that, it tickles. And it’s naughty.”

“But you feel so nice and soft.”

“My naughty baby brother. Do you want me to take my top off?”

“I want you to take your PJs off.”

“Adam!” But the girl pulled her pajama top over her head and then squirmed out of her bottoms. The man moaned.”

“I shouldn’t touch you there,” the girl said, “but I love how you get all silly.”

“Please, Ellie, rub me faster.”

“Adam … Adam … please come inside me. Adam, please.”

“Oh, Ellie …”

He climbed on top of her. Tobin and Kerry watched the rhythms of sex as neither the girl nor the man uttered anything more other than the moans and sighs of a couple fucking.

The man shuddered and growled, then collapsed onto the girl who embraced him. “My sweet baby brother,” she cooed. They fell into a slumber.

“That’s it,” Tobin said. “That’s all he wants. We can slip out now. He’s always behaved himself.”

He led her back to the public lounge.

“Well, what did you think? Make-pretend incest … doesn’t it make you sick?”

“No,” she said. “I thought it was beautiful.”

“Yeah, well, he’s good for another few months; he’ll be able to put his sister out of his mind and pay attention to real life.”

Kerry said nothing.

“Could you fuck, blow someone, pretend to be his sister, daughter, mother? Pretend to be a school girl and let your teacher fuck you?”

“Yes,” she said. “And maybe even … go beyond pretend.”

“You make me nervous, lady. But I’m going to take a chance on you … just out of curiosity.”

* * * * *

“Wednesday evening, Mr. Stassen. We had to line up plenty of extras to fill the lounge, that’s what took so much time.”

Tobin swung the phone to his other ear. “Yes, I have the cashier’s check in hand, but once you walk through that door Wednesday, no refunds. All right, we’ll see you and Mrs. Stassen at 8 p.m.”

He placed the phone on his desk and leaned back.

“What’s up?” Heidi said. “After I counted all the zeroes on that check I figured you’d be so happy you’d spontaneously hand out a bonus.”

“Did you? Really?”

Heidi shrugged.

“I don’t know; I have a funny feeling about this one. That new girl, Kerry …”

“You mean Psyche?”

“Yeah. This will be her first gig. Just an extra, but something tells me I should give her a call, set her up some other time.”

“What could happen?”

“Damn if I know. I just can’t shake this feeling. Ah, screw it. If I give in to it I’ll end up jinxing the thing for sure.”

He went to the public lounge and scanned the booths and tables. He almost expected to find Kerry somewhere in a dim corner, but he didn’t see her again until Wednesday.

The Stassens met him in his office.

“Still time to call it off,” he told them.

“Why would we want to do that? I couldn’t sleep all night thinking about tonight; and I made sure Neil didn’t either, did I honey? Was I cruel to you, sweetheart, not letting you have any relief?” She squirmed in her seat, her breasts jostling in a low cut black dress.

Neil nodded. “I just hope …”

“That you don’t cream in your pants before the party gets going?” Tracy chuckled.

“All right then,” Tobin said, slapping his hands down on his desk. “Heidi will see you to the door that opens into the lounge. There will be people drinking, talking, dancing … a typical bar scene. Have yourselves a drink, relax … and things will just … occur.”

“This way, please.” Heidi showed them out.

Tobin waited a few minutes before he followed the darkened corridor to the raised portion of the lounge. The lighting was adjusted so no one could see him sitting in the shadows.

He sat and began to scan the room. Rocco and the guys were milling about, talking up some of the extras. But where was Kerry?

He watched a girl whose bare back was turned to him. She appeared to be topless, but as she turned he could see she wore backless top that tied around the neck beneath her hair. It was an enticing illusion. She also wore a denim skirt that reached to just above the knees. She could have been any college girl out for a night.

The acoustics in the room were excellent, and he could make out much of individual conversations if he concentrated, all except for the faintest whispers.

Neil had bought himself and Tracy a drink. She leaned against the bar, coyly sipping from her glass. Tobin guessed she was assessing the men, wondering which ones were going to screw her senseless. A generous show of thigh through the slit in her black dress was as good as flashing neon.

Rocco bumped up against her ass. No need to concentrate on Rocco’s voice, it was a deep, reverberating baritone with a hint of gravel in it.

“Hey, pretty lady, can I buy you a drink?”

He could see Neil make a faint protest. Rocco turned him away, “Was I fucking talking to you?”

“That’s my husband,” Tracy protested.

“Too bad for you. How about a dance? I bet the wimp don’t mind.”

He didn’t give her a chance to answer, but curled his arm around her waist like a padlock and pulled her onto the floor. Neil cowered at the bar.

Tracy made a show of pushing Rocco’s hands away from her ass.

“Please, stop, my husband …”

“Isn’t going to do shit. You know what, baby? You’re getting me kinda anxious. Here, feel this.”

Tobin could see him snatch her wrist and tug her hand down to his crotch. Even from his vantage he could see Tracy’s eyes widen like saucers.”

Rocco’s hands roamed freely up her thigh. He buried his face in her cleavage, and lifted her dress so the whole room could see he was squeezing her ass.

Neil left the bar and approached them.

“That’s enough of that.”

Rocco turned on him. “Get the fuck over there.”

Neil followed where Rocco pointed.

“Neil, aren’t you going to do something?” Tracy demanded.

“Yeah, he’s going to do something. He’s going to watch you get fucked by a real cock. Sit on the floor, pussy-boy!”

Neil meekly obeyed. The other people in the room tittered.

Tracy feigned her disappointment. “Neil, how could you?”

Rocco lifted Tracy by her ass and set her on the pool table.

“Please, don’t …”

Then Rocco shed his pants and underwear. Even from behind Tobin could make out the shadow of his cock.

“Oh, my God!” Tracy moaned. “You’re not … not … going to …”

Kerry stepped out of the crowd and stood between Rocco and Tracy.

Tobin stood just as the slap reverberated around the room. The crowd gasped and went silent.

Tracy cupped her cheek, her eyes wide with fright and surprise.

“Shut up, you stupid slut!” Kerry demanded. She pushed Tracy onto her back and climbed onto the pool table.

Rocco turned toward where Tobin stood in the dark. He raised his arms as if to say…

“What the fuck?” Tobin took a step, but hesitated.

Kerry had ripped Tracy’s dress open and was straddling her, slapping her breasts.

“You’re a little slut slumming for cock … aren’t you? Say it, you whore!”

Tracy whimpered. Kerry raised her hand and swung it in a downward arc. Another slap reverberated.

“Say it!”

“Yes! God … Don’t hurt me any more …”

“Slut!”

“Yes!”

“Whore!”

“Yes … whore … whore …”

“That’s better.” Kerry leaned down and sealed a rough wet kiss to Tracy’s mouth.

She sat up and crooked her finger at Rocco. “Fuck this slut, c’mon.”

Rocco turned back toward Tobin who now stood just at the margin of light.

Tracy hadn’t said her safeword. Tobin nodded to Rocco to play along.

Before he could climb onto the pool table Kerry scanned the room. “Anyone else want some of this pig?”

Tracy squirmed. Kerry had hooked her fingers in her pussy and was playing with her clit.

The other guys quickly picked up the cue. Kerry turned Tracy over and gave her a quick slap on her ass.

“Let’s see how she sucks dick.”

Ben dropped his pants and held out his cock just where Tracy’s head hung over the edge.

“Don’t wait for her to take it, fuck her mouth like it’s a cunt.” As she said it, Kerry tugged off her own top, shaking out her hair and her breasts.

Tobin hissed from the shadows, “That crazy bitch.”

“Take hold of their dicks,” she said and slapped the other cheek of Tracy’s ass. Sean and Teddy moved in guiding Tracy’s hands to their cocks. She immediately began milking them. Jim stood by, ready to join in.

“What a fucking filthy slut!” Kerry said it to the crowd. The extras surged around the table; men and women stroked, squeezed and pinched Tracy’s legs and ass. They called her “slut,” “pig,” “whore.”

Rocco looked confused. Kerry hopped onto the floor and the crowd parted for her.

She glared at Neil who sat transfixed on the floor.

“You disgraceful cowardly little pussy,” she said. “Do you like what you see? Do you like seeing your wife turned into a cock-hungry slut? Show me your little dickie … do it!”

Neil stood and fumbled with his pants and suspenders. They dropped to his ankles. A dark stain marked the crotch of his dark gray briefs.

“Take it out.”

Neil tugged his stiff dick from its cotton confines.

Kerry turned and strode back to the pool table. She grabbed a handful of Tracy’s hair and yanked her head toward Neil.

“Ouch!” Sean yelped as his cock plopped out of her mouth.

“See … the little bitch is enjoying your rape. What a little cunt he is. Is he a cocksucker too?”

Tracy gasped. “I … I … Don’t know …”

“Let’s turn him into a cocksucker … you want to see that, honey?”

Tracy snarled, “Yes, make him suck cock. Fucking wimp, coward … I hate you!”

Neil moaned and collapsed to his knees.

Kerry took Rocco’s hand. “Now, make this meaty man’s cock nice and hard for your wife’s cunt and ass.”

She led Rocco to the quivering Neil.

Rocco looked down at him, his cock dangling above Neil’s bowed head.

“Get me hard, pussy-boy.”

Neil didn’t move. Rocco grabbed him by the hair and raised his head. Neil opened his mouth as Rocco slid his cock into his cheek.

“Play with his balls, too,” Kerry ordered.

She returned to the pool table and hopped aboard. Tracy had raised herself onto her hands and knees. Her hands slipped on the felt, glazed from almost simultaneous ejaculations of Ted and Ben. Jim kneeled behind her sliding his cock between her ass cheeks.

Kerry stretched her arm over Tracy’s back. “Look at him, look at what a cocksucker he is. He deserves to be fucked as hard as you, doesn’t he?”

“I hate him … cocksucker! Make him come in your mouth!”

A shudder ran up Rocco’s back. “Jesus! He sucks like a bitch.”

Neil gulped and coughed up Rocco’s semen. It drooled off his chin where it joined a pool of his own.

Kerry hopped back off the table and strode over to Neil. “I guess you really are a cunt now.”

She turned back to Tracy. “Shall I fuck him like the bitch he is?”

“Yes, yes! Fuck him. Rape him!”

Kerry dropped her skirt. She had removed a tube from its pocket.

Tobin squinted to see what she was up to. He saw the belt and cinch around her waist, and then she turned slightly as she squeezed something from the tube into her hand.

“Jesus, was she wearing that thing the whole time?”

Neil tentatively peered over his shoulder and moaned at the sight of the black, rubber dick that hung from Kerry’s strap-on. It was such a mournful note, Tobin was sure he’d scream his safeword.

Instead he lifted his ass in compliance as Kerry positioned herself behind him. Tobin watched her hips jut forward as a long whimper issued from Neil. Then she thrust her hips forward again, then again. Neil cried like a little girl as Kerry accelerated her rhythm.

Jim was fucking Tracy from behind. Rocco kneeled in front of her offering his recovering cock.

“See if you can suck as good as the wimp,” he said.

The crowd was in a frenzy. A couple of the girls had shed their clothes and a no-stops orgy was developing.

Tobin sat back as the aroma of sex pervaded the room. “Christ!” he uttered.

Neil let out a shriek, and collapsed. Kerry reached her hand into the pool of semen beneath him, turned him over and smeared it over his face.

“Dirty little girl,” she sneered.

She stood, the wet rubber cock glistening. She unbuckled the belt and let it fall to the floor.

Rocco had taken over for a spent Jim and was plowing Tracy’s ass. Teddy fucked her mouth. Ben had been dragged away by some little wisp of a girl … one of the extras, who rode his cock on the floor amidst a tangle of other limbs. Sean’s cock had found another woman’s mouth to call home.

It occurred to Tobin that he hadn’t seen Tully all night. Finally he arrived … late and confused. Things were slowing down. Tracy lay exhausted, semen smears streaking her body and her hair a sticky mat.

Tully climbed onto the pool table, turned her onto her back and plunged his cock into her pussy. Her arms closed around his neck as he pummeled her. She was weeping.

* * * * *

“What the hell did you think you were doing?”

Tobin confronted the still naked Kerry in the locker room.

“Please … is there a shower?”

“First door on the right.”

She turned away without saying anything. Tobin followed her into the shower and watched her as she stood under one of the nozzles. The water cascaded over her head and shoulders.

“We have a script we follow. We don’t deviate. Jesus! Where the hell do you get off slapping Mrs. Stassen?”

“She needed it. She craved it. She wants to be in charge, but she really doesn’t want to be in charge.”

“How in fuck are you supposed to know?”

“Do you want to wash me?”

“No!”

“Can you wait outside, then? We can talk later.”

Tobin shook his head, turned and strode out.

She joined him in the public lounge. She wore jeans and a blue t-shirt; her hair was damp from her shower. She looked like a completely different girl to him.

“Okay … what the hell were you thinking?”

Larry brought them drinks. She sipped hers slowly.

“I know … knew what they needed, what they wanted,” she said.

“They told me what they wanted. Who the hell told you to ad lib the scene?”

“They needed to be guided; they needed to be led into their other life.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? What the hell is your … Christ! Who the hell are you?”

“You know who I am.”

“Yeah, I do … Psyche.”

Her flinch evaporated as instantly as it appeared.

“In school, the other kids used to call me Psycho. I didn’t like school much.”

“You did something to Hasley, didn’t you? She just basically gave you a no-show job because … why?”

“Ms. Hasley used to brood a lot. She wasn’t getting her work done; she couldn’t focus. One morning I found her gazing out the window. I slapped her face and told her she was a whore who needed to do penance.”

“Is that your specialty, slapping faces?”

“It helped her cross.”

“Cross?”

“Into her true life. As Marta she is acted upon, she’s not responsible for what happens to her. She wants to be a good girl and accept her penance.”

“That’s nuts.”

“Her life as Marta is more important to her than Evelyn Hasley. It is for Marta that her heart truly beats.”

“It’s a fantasy; this is the real world.”

She shrugged. “Is it?”

“I thought I showed you that the other night. Do you really get off on imagining yourself fucked by a bunch of old bums? You know now it could never happen, not in real life.”

“It can happen. Free will means we can choose to believe what we want, decide what is real and what is not. You make a conscious decision to lead the life you choose to lead.”

“Lots of luck.”

She smiled. “I don’t think I really want to be ravished by hordes of filthy old men.”

“That’s the first healthy thing you’ve said since we met.”

“Just one.”

She stood and said good night.

He watched her leave, then stood and followed her out the door.

He tailed her along the dark streets, following the path they had taken before.

He caught up to her at the vacant lot. One hand closed over her mouth; he held her arms against her stomach with the other and dragged her into the field.

“Shut up and you won’t be hurt,” he warned.

He dragged her to a shadowed area against the wall of an adjacent building.

“Please,” she whimpered.

His hands slid beneath her tee and sought out her breasts. He squeezed them and ran his thumbs over her nipples; they hardened instantly. He dropped a hand to the zipper of her jeans. He tugged them down her legs.

“Step out of them,” he ordered. She complied.

“Hey, what’re you doing there?” It was the bum from the other night. Others began to gather around.

“What the hell does it look like?”

Tobin forced her legs apart and made her bend forward against the wall.

“You wanna fuck that little whore here, you gotta pay rent.”

“How much?”

“Depends on what you’re gonna do to her.”

“I’m gonna fuck her cunt like a dog.”

“You gonna fuck her asshole too? She gonna suck your dick?”

“Maybe … I don’t know.”

“Five bucks to start … but the meter’s running.”

He slid his cock into her pussy and thrust. She cried out.

Their audience closed around them.

Tobin pounded his pelvis against her, each time driving his cock deeper into her belly. She bent lower, and began to keen.

“She makes any more noise, it’s gonna cost you extra.”

Tobin didn’t answer.

“She sure is a skinny bitch. Fuckin’ whores around here too busy shooting up to eat.”

She pushed back against him and reached between her own legs to stroke her clit. She began to wail.

“Shit, she’s gonna bring a cop down here for sure. Make her shut up.”

Tobin launched his fluids; she shuddered at his release. He stepped away, his cock slipping out of her trailing a tendril of semen. Another gob ran down her thigh. She curled up beside the wall.

Tobin drew a wad of bills from his pocket and peeled off a few. “Will this cover the rent?”

The man snatched the money and nodded.

“Hey, you want us to get rid of her for you?”

“What?”

“Sure … nobody’ll find her.”

“No … I’m just breaking her in.”

“You pimping her?”

“Going to.”

“No shit.”

“Do me a favor, will you?”

“Huh?”

Tobin lifted her to her feet and spun her around to face the bum. He lifted her tee.

“Give her tits a squeeze for me.”

The bum shrugged and took hold of her breasts.

“Like this?”

“Yeah, that’s enough.”

She pulled on her jeans and stumbled toward the street.

“Was it everything you hoped it would be?” he mocked.

She turned to face him, her eyes glazed. She began to sway. He caught her as she passed out.

* * * * *

Neil Stassen sat in front of Tobin’s desk. He looked different, older maybe.

“My wife and I are divorcing,” he said. “It’s all very amicable, no bitterness at all.”

“Still, I’m sorry to hear it,” Tobin said.

“She said … she could never respect me as a man again. She said it wasn’t my fault, that she had changed since that night. I understood … that is, I can’t explain it, but somehow I feel as if we both transcended something … a barrier we didn’t know existed. That young woman … the one who …”

“Yes?”

“It was as if she had thrown open a door and herded us through. Our lives, my life, what I was before … It’s all meaningless to me. It’s very liberating, but then I wonder, what next, what do I do now? And then it’s as plain as day; I can do anything, live any life I want. Can you understand, Mr. Tobin?”

“Not entirely, Mr. Stassen.

Neil smiled. “I know … I’ve hardly worked it out myself. I just wanted to thank you.”

“Me?”

“If it wasn’t for you, well, the veil would not have been lifted. That young woman …”

“She must remain anonymous, Mr. Stassen.”

“Yes … I suppose. Well, goodbye, Mr. Tobin.”

“Good luck to you, Mr. Stassen.”

Tobin retired to his usual table in the public lounge.

A couple of guys were trying to hit on the bartender.

“What’s your name, honey?” one asked as he pushed a too-large tip into her jar.

“Psyche.”

“Whoa, what kind of parents did you have that they named you Psyche?”

“Greek scholars.”

“Speaking of Greek, how about I meet you after your shift?”

“Sorry, I don’t swing that way.”

“Shit … shoulda known with a name like Psyche.”

She smiled sweetly as they took their drinks and retreated.

Tobin called her over.

“So, you’re Psyche tonight? What else are you?”

“Why, I’m a lesbian bartender who wants to dress her boss like a girl so she can pretend he’s her girlfriend.”

“Why complicate it with the lesbian angle?”

“Life’s complicated … even a fantasy life … otherwise, it wouldn’t be … real.”

Tobin held his head in his hands.

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© 2011 Robert Buckley. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.