Chapter 7
Two months had gone by. Slumped wearily in the office swivel chair, I stared blankly at the huddled form of my sidekick Melanie as she lay on the dilapidated couch, sound asleep. In spite of all our successes, I couldn't help wishing we were just the plain, simple Anytime Modeling Agency once again. Priscilla, our boss (the "iron butterfly"), had had us on a nonstop crazy schedule servicing her top notch clients practically door-to-door singles, doubles, threesomes, foursomes, and gang bangs night after night without a halt. By now, we were so fucked out, we hardly ever had energy for one of our own numbers.
Getting rich or not, we'd had it up to here with the whole perverse sex scene, or at least the portion of it run by our freak tyrant employer.
Knowing how evil and revengeful this Queenpin of the underground vice could be, we were too terrified to confront her by resigning from her nationwide VIP bedrooming operation. We weren't sure we could get away with it and stay alive!
Just at that moment, my thoughts were interrupted by a loud car horn outside. Priscilla had warned us that tonight was to be a very special money-making charity event, so she had arranged to have her Rolls Royce sent over to excort us to our mysterious appointment. I went over to Melanie and shook her shoulder gently. She opened her thickly lashed green eyes, blinked once or twice, and stretched in feline manner. Her firm breasts stirred under her low cut braless dress.
"Already?" she moaned. "Gosh, I'm still so plumb worn out."
"I know, baby," I sympathized, pulling her off the couch and leading her through the office and down the dimly lit hallway to the front door of the old building. "Don't worry, darling, I'm really going to have it out with Priscilla tonight the first chance I get. I'm going to lay it on the line! No more nightly sex orgies and whatnot for us just to build up her money-hungry pay-for-lay racket. I'm not going to fart around either. We're quitting tonight, and there's nothing she can do about it. The contract we signed is definitely illegal. Nobody not even Priscilla can hold human beings as sex slaves."
"Oh, sweetheart, you're really something else, you know that?" Melanie exclaimed, looking at me adoringly and a little relieved, as she pushed the front door of the building open to the night air.
"But of course," I agreed smugly, as we approached Priscilla's canary yellow limousine which was parked curbside, the motor already purring gently. The impeccably uniformed boyish chauffeur reached back over the front seat and opened the door for us from the inside. As we climbed inside the luxurious sedan, I noticed that all the rear windows had blinds pulled shut. I squinted into the dim interior and was startled to see Dr. Prickett sitting there greeting us with a broad smile. He was dressed to the hilt in a tuxedo and ruffled shirt. Even in the gloom, I noticed his eyes glowing as they drank in the lengthy fullness bulging from my khakis. Melanie kissed the old doc affectionately as I shut the door behind us. The shiny automobile moved away smoothly.
"Hi, pal, what are you doing here? Checking the merchandise? I was expecting Her Royal Asshole," I remarked snidely, spreading my legs apart in my usual friendly manner.
"Priscilla is saving on gas by having us all picked up at once. Are you two all ready for the big blow-out this evening?" Dr. Prickett inquired, his voice sounding uncertain and wavering.
"You can't be serious?" I challenged, eager to let him in on our side of the story, including our definite decision to leave the organization. "Listen, buddy, you sure didn't do us a favor getting us hooked up with that power-hungry dictator. After this gig tonight, we're through hustling trick after trick for that iron-fisted sin queen. Shit I've been working my balls off to a point where even I'm beginning to believe I'm nothin' but a sex organ."
Dr. Prickett laughed nervously.
"Seriously, doc," Melanie whined, "we're only human beings not soulless sex machines. I mean, we believe that you meant well getting us into Miss Priscilla's sex-ploitation syndicate, but it's really like being enslaved for pleasure. I admit, at first, we thought it'd be a real gas, but by now, it's more like being a twenty-four hour on-call duty nurse. Why the only scenery we've seen these last two months are bedsheets and ceilings."
"Yeah," I chimed in, "and you're the one, kiddo, who led us to expect too much out of this whole rotten mess, and that's exactly what we've gotten too much! Man, we never even have a second for our own private life. Anyway, it's a bad scene and we're going to leave it behind us-far behind us!"
A strange look half hurt and half fear crossed Dr. Prickett's seamed face. "Believe me, my children, when I say that I understand the severe strain your young bodies have had to undergo, please realize, I've also been under lots of pressure because of my regrettable decision to take you in. I guess I'm just too old and too stupid to understand what's happening any more," he wailed in self pity.
"What are you rapping about?" I broke in bored and annoyed by his soppy confession. "Don't lose your cool, doc. Melanie and I have slipped out of worse scrapes than this before, so screw her majesty's pompous ass we're splitting tonight!"
"My boy, please let me set you straight before you do something foolish and get yourself in serious trouble," Dr. Prickett begged, his eyes wide with concern. "It's true that the contract you signed might not hold in court, but I happen to know that Priscilla will stop at nothing extortion, physical harm, or even blackmail, to keep you under her control. And, she has a whole squad of hired strong-armed goons to enforce her orders. I hate to admit it, but she's got me really scared."
"How terrible and cruel! I'm frightened," Melanie wailed, squeezing my hands and cuddling closer to me on the deep leather seat.
"But that's illegal," I blustered angrily. "No demented chick owns my body and soul!"
"Crime, my son, has its own rules. Sometimes it's better not to question, but simply to submit," Dr. Prickett preached, his sad eyes looking up toward heaven as we drove on past the city limits, off the freeway, and finally into the dark moon-lit hills. "For your own safety, as well as mine, please listen and believe me. You apparently still don't understand that Priscilla has her warped mind completely obsessed with a passionate desire to become the absolute ruler of the prostitution market. In fact, her whole system is engineered precisely to milk the wealthy sex-starved elderly degenerates of the entire U.S.A. with the finest young flesh available at her price, of course. And that brings us back to you two. Dr. Prickett took a second to catch his breath, and then went on.
"You happen to be the hottest property in town right now. Because of your almost unique ability to bring life back into old-timers' wilted organs, there's a growing demand for your act at private sex parties. That's why Priscilla doesn't want to lose your particular money-making talents, and come hell or high water, will let nothing put a dent in her perverted manipulations. He stopped at last, gasping, a little shaken by his own words as he mopped his beaded brow with a large linen handkerchief.
Melanie and I sat glumly and silently as the limousine left the main highway and turned down a bumpy, twisting dirt road past tall trees and shrubbery. We were finally convinced Prickett was scared stiff, and frankly, so were we!
"There is a way out though," Dr. Prickett resumed, his voice taking on a conspiratorial tone. "Now, you must listen very carefully to my plan." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "I have persuaded Priscilla to use you two as part of the entertainment at this annual Halloween Masquerade Gay-In Ball. It's being held at an out-of-the-way, but exclusive homo hideaway famous for its discriminating and high-class clientele the Cock 'N' Clit Country Club! We're almost there now. It also just happens to serve Priscilla as her main business headquarters. She keeps her most important papers there to wit, evidence so incriminating, that if we get a hold of it, we can use it to force her to release you from your contract, and spring me loose, too!
Melanie and I looked at each other overjoyed by the prospect that we could be free again some how, some way.
"Since Priscilla always acts as Mistress of Ceremonies, she'll be so busy out front surrounded by her mob of private strongmen all watching the parade of drag contestants, that she won't notice me sneaking into her private files to dig out the fatal documents. Then, Kenny boy, it's up to you to get them away from me." He chuckled.
"Oh, Dr. Prickett, you're just wonderful!" Melanie cried happily, throwing her arms around his neck and giving him a big hug. "By the way, what is a Gay-In ball?" Melanie asked innocently.
Dr. Prickett and I both laughed uproariously.
"Honey, just a bunch of homos and dykes dressed like clowns in gowns," I answered with a smirk. Just then, our shiny sedan pulled up to the brightly lit side entrance of a large building, past rows and rows of parked cars. Sounds of a loud rock band and the murmur of excited voices could be heard from inside the club. "And what's to be our job at this imagine-dress drag show, pops?"
"Oh, that! Why, you two are to be the door prizes!" Dr. Prickett announced, trying to sound nonchalant.