Prey Drive (12 page)

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Authors: Wrath James White

BOOK: Prey Drive
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Selene wore a sundress that was practically see-through, and that was as naked as she planned to get until the situation demanded it. She was still not completely comfortable with the weight she’d gained and was not quite ready to strip down in front of strangers. It was different when she was modeling and getting paid for it. Anyone who hired her knew what they were getting. Since she’d gained the thirty-five pounds of fat and muscle for Joseph, she had gotten twice as many runway jobs, her first print jobs, and had become the most popular art model in the area. Had she known there was such a market for plus-sized models she would have gained the weight long ago. She knew there were many women who would have objected to her use of the term plus-sized. Even with the added weight she was still only a size nine, well under the national average of a size twelve or fourteen but a far cry from the size one she had been.

She walked past an emaciated coat-check girl with pierced nipples, two sleeves of tattoos completely covering both arms, and stars tattooed on both shoulders like the Russian mob. She had long black hair like Selene’s, but hers was obviously a dye job. She looked just as Joseph had described her, with the exception of the star tattoos. She must have added those since Joseph was here last. She had the beginnings of crow’s feet at the corners of her eyes. Those too must have been added since Joseph’s last visit. Selene suspected that hard drugs, alcohol, and bulimia had prematurely aged her.

The smell of air-freshener, pussy, sweat, lubricant, and semen hung heavy in the air. The unmistakable scent of Pine Sol lingered in the air as well and that was a relief. At least someone had made an effort to clean and disinfect the place. Selene wondered how often the floors and walls were scrubbed, sheets changed, sex toys disinfected. No matter how often it was, it couldn’t have been often enough to keep up with the constant deluge of bodily fluids. A sign pointed upstairs to the “Couples only” rooms where no single men or women were allowed and announced that this was the only place where couples were free to dispense with condoms. Downstairs, condoms were mandatory and anyone found not using them would be asked to leave. Selene tried her best to follow the logic and failed.

The bar was fully stocked and looked like what you would see at any nightclub in the city, except the barstools were wrapped in disposable plastic covers and the patrons were mostly nude, though quite a few of the women wore lingerie and a few of the men were fully clothed. Somehow the men who were still wearing their street clothes struck Selene as the creepiest. She wondered if she looked just as creepy as they did walking around in a yellow sundress and pink Crocs. She walked up to the bar and all eyes, male and female, instantly landed on her. Smiles widened, eyes blazed with lust, and a few of the men who were completely naked rose to salute her. Selene smiled and slightly blushed. It was probably the most flattering welcome she’d ever received. Joseph had been right though. Most of the men were old and fat and so were most of the women, except the ones who had come alone and Selene suspected that most of them were prostitutes. She wondered if they thought she was a prostitute too and then realized that most working girls didn’t wear yellow sundresses. Her decision to come to the club had been so sudden she hadn’t had time to change into anything more seductive.

Selene ordered an apple martini from the bartender and leaned against the bar, sipping her drink as she scanned the room. There was a small dance floor and several couples had taken to it as the DJ changed the music from techno to an old school Madonna song to George Michael singing, “I Want Your Sex!” Everyone looked absurd as they shook, shimmied, and gyrated to the music, sex organs and mammary glands bouncing and flopping, asses and bellies rippling and jiggling. This was perhaps the least attractive group of people Selene had ever seen. Perhaps coming so early had been a mistake. Most of the people she knew around her age didn’t even leave the house until after 10:00 p.m. to go clubbing and it was only—Selene checked her watch—6:23 p.m. No one came out this early except people who had to get home to cook dinner for the kids or the truly lonely and desperate.

The frat boys who’d come in with the girl who looked like she might have still been a virgin as recently as last week passed by the dance floor on their way out to the pool. Selene followed, still sipping her martini. The guys all looked like assholes, but at least they were near her age. Besides, she was feeling protective toward the young girl and wanted to make certain that anything that happened to her was consensual, though she wasn’t sure if the girl was even old enough to know the difference. If the guy at the front had checked her ID, he was either blind, stupid, or had been handsomely bribed. Of course it was possible the girl looked younger than she was. Possible, but doubtful.

The pool was filled with couples, threesomes, and even foursomes, furiously copulating in various positions. A black woman in her forties with huge fake breasts and fake platinum blonde hair was bent over a deck chair being fucked in the ass by a young, muscular Latino guy with acne on his back and shoulders and a tattoo of the Virgin Mary in the center of his chest. He looked almost ten years her junior. Beside him an even younger Mexican guy with skinny tattoo-covered arms and a fat belly had a large Mexican woman with big, flabby, pendulous breasts in a similar position, bent over a chair, grunting and thrusting in her dimpled, cottage cheese covered ass. Every now and then the two guys would high-five each other. In the hot tub, a curvaceous Filipino woman in her twenties sat on the edge of the tub while an older white guy in his late thirties/early forties knelt between her thighs, lapping at her clitoris like he was trying to remove a stain. At the other end of the hot tub, two gray-haired men were sharing a large woman in pigtails who looked close to Selene’s age though easily twice her weight. Despite her size, the woman’s breasts were disproportionately small. Her belly easily stuck out further than her tits. She was grinning like she’d won the lottery as she was penetrated from behind by one of the older gentleman and had her mouth full of the other. The hot tub was oily with bodily fluid. The thought of doing anything in that cesspool made Selene’s stomach threaten to revolt. Yet the couples splashing around in the water seemed to be having the time of their lives.

“Disgusting,” Selene hissed. She spotted one of the frat boys staring at her from the other side of the pool. He was tall with an athletic build, blond hair, blue eyes, freckles, and a cock that appeared slightly larger than six inches. Not exactly big, but far more than she would have given him credit for. He just missed being cute by an inch and a weak chin that disappeared into his neck. But he was handsome enough that, with a little sweet talking and a bit of confidence/arrogance, he could entice a few pretty girls with low self-esteem into his bed. He was the one who’d been dragging the young girl in the Catholic school skirt into the club earlier. Selene looked for the girl and found her by the diving board, sandwiched between the freckled kid’s two friends, being double-penetrated. One of the frat boys, a tall lanky guy with long hair, thrust his stubby penis in her vagina with her legs draped over his shoulders while his shorter, chubbier friend stretched her rectum with his own impressive organ. It was the blonde kid who she’d thought was the girl’s boyfriend.

The expression on the young girl’s face was not one of enjoyment but of grudging acceptance. Her eyes remained on the freckled kid the entire time. Selene felt a white-hot rage burning within her. She wanted to tear all three of those college assholes apart and rescue the girl. She reached into one of the large pockets in her sundress and found the small can of pepper spray attached to her keychain. It wasn’t much as offensive weaponry goes, and it wasn’t very accurate either. If she sprayed the two guys, she’d get the girl too. It would be easy to explain why she’d pepper sprayed two college assholes in a sex club. Just about any lie would have worked, starting with attempted rape. But pepper spraying the girl would have been harder to explain. Besides, she couldn’t play heroine to every naïve young whore who crossed her path.

The boy with the nice body was making his move toward her, and Selene’s hand tightened on the pepper spray even as she plastered a seductive smile on her face and demurely dropped her eyes. The boy was just a few feet away from her when an idea came to Selene, the real reason she’d come here.

“You’re much too pretty to still be wearing clothes,” the boy said. “My name is Mark and you’re …”

“Quite horny but disgusted with this place. I can’t imagine how many diseases are floating around that pool.”

Mark looked at the pool like he was seeing it for the first time. “Yeah, you’re right. Want to go someplace else? Like to my place?”

Selene smiled. “How far is it?”

“I live just off Seventeenth and Mission Avenue. We can take a taxi.”

“I came on my scooter. Just give me your address. I’ll meet you there.”

Mark looked at her suspiciously and then turned back toward his friends.

Selene reached out and stroked his cock, which immediately got his attention. “I promise, I’ll be there. I told you I was horny. Do you need to say goodbye to your friends?”

He turned back to the threesome. His girlfriend was no longer watching him and that seemed to bother him.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Selene asked while still stroking his cock.

“Nope. Just a friend. Let’s go.”

They walked back inside and Selene handed Mark a cocktail napkin to write down his address while she finished her martini.

“That’s not far at all. I can’t wait.” Selene grabbed the boy’s cock again and stroked it a few times for emphasis and then smiled and walked out the door, waving the napkin with his phone number on it.

“See you in fifteen minutes!” Mark called after her.

Selene didn’t answer. She continued out into the parking lot while Mark collected his clothes from the coat-check girl. She grabbed her helmet and straddled her little scooter. After strapping on her helmet, she gunned the throttle and quickly pulled out of the parking lot as Mark walked out of the club and hailed a taxi. She raced down Sixth Street, slipping between slower moving cars. She wanted to put some distance between her and Mark’s taxi. There was one more stop Selene had to make before she met him at his apartment.

Hopefully, he doesn’t have any roommates
, she thought, pulling into the supermarket parking lot. She parked quickly and dashed into the store headed for the kitchenware section.

 

 

Sixteen 

 

 

It had been two days since Officer Cindy Addison came to supermax, and Joe had been working hard to win her heart. He sat in his cell, painting on loose-leaf paper he’d glued together at the edges to form a four-foot by two-foot rectangle. He used water he’d colored with Skittles and Sweet Tarts from the commissary for his palate and wads of toilet paper as brushes. Keeping his passions in check as he painted was difficult, but he knew he would scare her off if he let even the slightest glimmer of the mayhem and destruction he saw in his mind whenever he looked at her seep onto his canvas. Instead, he channeled his passion into more pedestrian images. Still, even what he considered “pedestrian” was shocking by normal standards.

He layered body parts upon body parts in a kaleidoscope of flesh and sexual organs. It looked like an orgy of two, the same faces and bodies in different sexual positions; Joe and Officer Addison in a “69.” Joe and Officer Addison in missionary position, doggy-style, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, legs thrown over his shoulders, Joe performing analingus, cunnulingus, cumming on her belly, on her ass, on her breasts, her cherubic smiling face. The images were so layered they were almost unrecognizable, just delicate intersecting lines of pink and tan, unless you knew what you were looking for, and Joe knew Officer Addison could see exactly what he was painting.

Officer Cindy Addison was standing outside Joe’s cell watching him paint. She’d been watching him for fifteen minutes. He’d made certain to position the canvas so she could see it as she walked by and peered into his cell.

“What you painting, Joe?”

Joe looked up for a second, smiled, and then returned to his canvas and continued painting. “You. I’m painting a portrait of you … and me. Us.”

Whenever he painted her face, he smoothed out the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and he made her belly smaller and her breasts slightly bigger. Her ass, however, he drew exactly as he imagined it. Big, round, smooth like a beach ball. He reached for a handful of red Skittles and soaked them in a cup with water from the faucet. He opened another pack of Skittles and separated out more red ones and tossed them into the cup as well. Then he opened another pack and another. He threw in a few purple as well to get just the perfect hue. He stared at the water as it began to redden and darken. The color was perfect, totally authentic, but he couldn’t use it. He looked back at his patchwork canvas of loose-leaf paper. If he touched any of the red paint to the canvas he wouldn’t be able to stop himself. He would turn it into a slaughter; the canvas would look like an abattoir.

He imagined the painting he wanted to paint and then imagined the acts they represented, all the things he wanted to do to Officer Addison. Joe paused and began to masturbate again. “I’m sorry, Officer Addison. It’s just been so long and every time I think about you … I-I can’t help myself.”

Officer Addison blushed but didn’t turn away. “It’s okay, Joe. It’s flattering, actually. I like that you find me so … that you get excited when you think about me. And you can call me Cindy.”

Joe leaned back on his bunk and locked eyes with her just as he had the first time she’d caught him masturbating in his cell. He stroked himself aggressively, lip curled up in a snarl, growling out her name. “Cindy. Cindy. Cindy. Cindy!”

He pinched his nipple between his thumb and index finger, twisting and squeezing it until it turned purple as he rubbed the head of his cock.

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