Secretly Seduced: The Interview Series Book One (10 page)

      “He knows we had been having
sex. He called me a dyke.”

      “We have a lot to think about
but first let’s get you into the shower,” said Portia.

      “I want to brush my teeth
first,” said Stacy.

     “Good, you’re on time.  We’re
just getting started,” said Mike pulling Stacy into the entranceway and kissing
her.  He smelled of cigars and scotch.  Without hesitating, Stacy
wrapped her arms around Mike’s shoulders and returned his kiss.  Nor did
she shy way when Mike’s hands moved down to her butt pulling her against his
sex.     

      Play along Stacy told
herself.  Don’t resist or mouth off.  All it will get you is another
beating or a crushed nipple, maybe both.  Follow Mother Portia’s
advice.  Mike Cabreeze is a dangerous psychopath.  Let him bring out
your inner slut.

      Portia had been very direct
about the challenge facing Stacy.  “Your survival depends on you
forgetting everything your parents drummed into you about sexual
morality.  From now on, think of yourself as a cock crazed whore like
me.  Someone who never met a dick they didn’t want to suck or a pussy they
weren’t dying to lick.”

     “How did you become that way,”
asked Stacy.  “You’re brilliant. Everyone says you’re a genius.”

     “Genius doesn’t buy you shit where
I grew up.  I’ve been a total whore since I was twelve and my sister’s
girl gang raped me for two days straight,” said Portia.

     “Your own sister raped you,” said a
surprised Stacy.  “Where is she now?”

     “In Iraq, working as an
interrogator at a prison called Abu Ghraib.  She’s a Marine,’ said Portia.

     “They raped you for two days?”
questioned Stacy.

     “Yes, Celia decided she would
either take my cherry or some male gang banger would do the honors.  She
opened me up with a strap on they used to initiate new members.  It was
ten inches long, five inches in diameter at the widest part and covered with
raised nodules.  It hurt like hell,” said 

     “It must have,” said Stacy.

     “This won’t be near as bad,” said
Portia buckling the strap on around her waist and thighs.  “Just relax and
focus on how good it feels in your pussy.  After you learn to climax with
it in your twat, I’ll do the same for your asshole.”

     “Whatever you say, Portia,” said
Stacy spreading he legs wider.

     “I know you can handle it,” said
Portia positioning the faux cock head at Stacy’s opening.

     Lessons learned from the time spent
in Mike’s Crown Vic made Stacy determined to succeed.  “I’ll do whatever
he wants.  That night, I sucked off two men and consumed a full bladder of
pee.  And to be honest, it turned me on.  I know now I’m not a shy
near virgin who doesn’t know how to handle a cock and whatever comes out f it.”

     “Good, any woman can become a whore
and a slut if she sets her mind to it.  Learn to relax and enjoy sex of
all flavors.  Remember it’s as much mental as physical,” said Portia when
she kissed Stacy goodbye a half hour before she left for the card game. 
“And by the way, you look hot as hell.  If you didn’t have to go, I’d
stick my head up your skirt and eat your pussy till the sun comes up. 
Mike and his poker pals will go nuts over you.  Face up to the reality
your three orifices are going to service a lot of cock tonight.  Use your
looks and brains to get through it.”

      “Again,” said Stacy after
Mike broke the kiss.  Stacy molded her body against his as she intertwined
her tongue with Mike’s. Wanting to prove her willingness, she dropped her arm
to Mike’s waist holding him tight as she rubbed her sex against the bulge in
his trousers.   The sensation of feeling his manhood press against
her pubic mound created a spark that traveled from her crotch to her brain and
back.

     “Well, I’m glad to see you’ve wised
up.  Stay that way and we’ll have some fun and nobody will get hurt. 
Here, let me look at you,” said Mike.  He stepped back to study her
appearance.

      “Well, what do you think,”
asked Stacy impatient for an answer. With Portia’s help, she’d spent hours
getting ready.

      “The hair’s definitely an
improvement.  Where did you get it styled?”

      “Delia, in Harvard Square,”
said Stacy.

      “Next time, go to Anton’s on
Newbury Street.  Ask for Mitch.  Tell him you’re a friend of Mike Cabreeze
or you won’t get in.  He’s the best in Boston and impossible to schedule
unless you know somebody,” said Mike.

      “I will.  Anything
else,” asked Stacy totally taken back Mike was sending her to a hair stylist he
knew.

      “A little lighter shade of
lipstick and nail polish would suit you better.  Turn around,” said Mike
studying her intently.

      “What else,” asked Stacy
unable to wait for his opinion?

     “What you’re wearing is okay for
tonight when it’s just the posse.   But it’s not classy enough when
we go out in public.  I can tell you made an effort.  That’s good but
you need to work harder on being stylish,” said Mike.

     “Work harder how,” said Stacy.

     “Be more fashionable.  When
you walk into a room I want every head to turn.  Other women should envy
the way you look and dress.  Men should envy me for having you.”

     “I’ll work on it.  I
promise.  This is all new to me,” said Stacy realizing Mike viewed her in
the way her mother had told her was completely wrong.  “Never allow a man
to treat you as an ornament. He should respect you for your mind and
character,” was advice her Mom had often repeated.

     “Come, I’ll introduce you,” said
Mike taking Stacy’s hand to lead her to the living room where a card table had
been set up.  A thick cloud of cigar smoke hung in the air.

      Stacy suppressed a shudder,
as she recalled making love with Mike on the beige sofa.  Sex with Mike
had been a pivotal, life-changing event.  Her earlier disastrous attempts
had caused her to leave sex out of her busy life.  Achieving orgasm became
a quiet ritual that involved pulling a vibrating dildo out of a drawer along
with a bottle of lubricant and getting herself off.  But Mike had changed
all that.

     She had sat on the sofa with Mike
kneeling between her legs.  His tongue and fingers had created an erotic
firestorm that swept over her.  She remembered twisting and pulling her
nipples, bringing them to her mouth to suck.  Her Mike-induced orgasm had
taught her just how good sex could be. The thought occurred to her one climax
had changed everything. 

      “Everybody, listen up. 
This is Stacy Todd,” said Mike taking Stacy’s hand raising it over her head and
forcing her into an under arm turn to show off her figure.  Stacy felt
exposed and vulnerable as the five men seated around the table eyed her. 
Several muttered, “Hi, Stacy,” as they admired Stacy’s figure.  They had
no reason to doubt that before the night was over, they would enjoy her body.

     Stacy’s sense of modesty was tested
when she left the dorm dressed in a too tight and short black knit skirt, a
matching scoop neck sweater which showed the tops of her breasts and a pair of
ridiculous high heel scandals that made her feel she might at any moment pitch
forward on her face.

      “I can’t walk in these,” said
Stacy when Portia had insisted she try them on.

      “Yes, you can.  They
look great on you.  High heels cause your bottom to angle upward thereby
subconsciously sending a message you’re available.  Besides, you have a
great ass, Miss Todd.  And if things go like I expect, you’ll be more
horizontal than vertical anyway.”

      “I never realized you could
find such nice things at a thrift store,” said Stacy.

      “There’s no point in spending
a lot since you won’t be wearing it very long and they’ll probably rip it off
you,” said Portia as she helped Stacy shop in a used clothing store near
campus.

      “I look like a tramp,” said
Stacy later looking at herself in the mirror in the clothes they had picked
out.  She felt scandalized the lace tops of her stay up hose showed when
she sat down

      “True, but a very beautiful
tramp.  Look the part and act the part. Learn to walk the walk and talk
the talk.  And when it comes time, hold nothing back.  Fuck their
brains out.  That’s how you’re going to get through this,” said Portia
taking Stacy by the hand and gently squeezing it to reassure her.

      “What do you thing they’ll
do?  I don’t even know how to play poker,” asked Stacy later when she was
getting dressed and Portia was helping her with her hair and make-up.

      “I don’t think you’re invited
for your card playing skills.  Mother Portia is going to give you some
advice.  So listen up,” said Portia turning Stacy to face her.

      “All right,” said Stacy
putting her hands on Portia’s shoulders.

      “You know damn well what
they’re going to do.  And there’s not a thing you can do about it. 
Some day, some how, we’ll figure how to get you out of this mess which isn’t
your fault by the way.  But until we do, I want you to commit to making
Mike Cabreeze believe you’ve seen the light and will do anything you can to
make him happy.  That includes being his mistress, whore, whatever. 
If he wants his piss drunk, look thirsty.  Yesterday while you were in class,
I watched Stacy Does Cambridge again.  Somewhere inside Stacy Todd, shy
recent near virgin, is a highly sexual persona waiting to be released. 
You’ve got the face and body to make men and women do what you want. 
Learn to use them.”

      “Thanks Portia. I’ll do my
best.  You’re my rock,” said Stacy pulling the smaller girl in for a hug
ending in a passionate kiss.

       Recalling Portia’s
advice brought Stacy back to the need to stay alert and pay attention to what
was happening.  Stacy listened carefully as Mike introduced his friends.

       “This is my partner,
Lieutenant Lewis Connors, the pride of Boston’s South End but currently a
resident of the People’s Republic of Cambridge,” said Mike introducing Stacy to
the men seated around the poker table.

     “Lou, call me Lou,” said the burly
blonde headed cop who Stacy immediately took to be a typical Boston
Irishman.  Lou had a paunch and looked out of condition for a policeman.

     “That’s Sergeant Zack Montrose,
he’s with Cambridge homicide,” said Mike moving around the table.  Zack
was a lean spare type dressed in black and totally bald.  There was
something cruel about his face that made Stacy want to cringe but she looked
directly at him, smiled, and said, “Hi, Zack.”

     “Those two muscle-bound bastards
are Brad and Bobby Epps.  They’re with Boston PD’s totally fucked up Vice
Squad.  And you’ve already met Mark Wilson,” said Mike referring to the
younger man seated at his right.  It had been Mark along with his female
counterpart, Faye, who had arrested Stacy a week ago.  Seeing Mark
reminded Stacy how she had come to be under Mike Cabreeze’s control.

     “Hello Stacy,” said Mark waving and
looking slightly embarrassed.

     Stacy smiled and said hello as she
repeated each name.  From somewhere, she’d recalled that repeating the
person’s name when you were introduced helped to remember the name.

     The Epps brothers bore a close
family resemblance except Brad had a long white scar traveling the length of
his jaw.  Bobby, the elder, appeared younger.  Both were big men who
obviously spent hours in the gym lifting free weights.  Their short sleeve
shirts exposed their bulging biceps and triceps.

     “And this hot Latina is Adriana,”
said Lou.  His arm was wrapped around the waist of an olive skinned girl
wearing a skintight red dress that clearly showed she wasn’t wearing a bra. The
thin clinging material displayed the contour of her prominent nipples and
areola.

   You can even see her Montgomery glands thought
Stacy recognizing the circle of bumps around the rim of the areola. 
That’s the tightest dress I’ve ever seen.  Still, she’s very pretty and
innocent looking.  The dress isn’t her idea.  It’s Lou’s.

    Adriana’s long black hair hung in curls
down to her shoulders.  The too tight dress announced Adriana had a very
good figure.  Stacy considered her a classic Latin beauty with a perfect
mix of Spanish and Indian features.  The girl had a forced smile on her
face as she stood with her arm draped over Lou’s shoulder.  Stacy sensed
Adriana was not happy to be there.

     “Hola, Adriana,” said Stacy
greeting Adriana in Spanish then asking if there were going to be any other
females present.

    “You two are it,” said Mike surprising
Stacy by showing he understood enough Spanish to answer the question. “You
ladies go in the kitchen and make us some drinks.  And bring in the food,”
said Mike.

      Stacy managed to stay focused
enough to remember the drink requests of each of the six when she reached the
kitchen.

      Four beers, bourbon neat, and
scotch rocks,” said Stacy to Adriana looking at the counter where someone had
assembled a small bar.

     “I can’t do this,” said Adriana
leaning against the counter and starting to cry.  “He made me wear this
horrible dress.  I look like a prostitua.”

     “You look fine.  And for that
matter I’m not exactly dressed for church,” said Stacy reaching into the
refrigerator for the beer.

     “Do you know what they’re going to
do with us tonight,” asked Adriana before all of a sudden throwing herself in
Stacy’s arms?  Stacy held the much smaller girl trying to comfort her;
conscious their thinly clothed bodies were pressed firmly together.

     “Not for certain, but I imagine
we’re expected to have sex with them while they play cards,” said Stacy
disengaging herself from Adriana to use the beer opener.

     “I am here with Lou,” said
Adriana.  “He is the only one I will give myself to.”

     “Maybe in your case it’s
true.  But Mike Cabreeze has already forced me to have sex with another
policeman.  I don’t expect tonight to be any different.”