Hot Flash: What I’m For

“What did you say?”

“I asked if you knew what you were for?”

Lizzy felt her stare turn from curious to genuinely confused looking at the older man in the dark gray suit, leaned forward in his chair, a colorfully striped tie dangling.  He was bald, with a semi-circle of thin, graying hair to distinguish him.  He had an easy smile, somewhat yellowed by coffee or cigarettes, but still winning and honest.

“I don’t understand the question.  What am I for?  Look, I’ve been through this before, I know what comes next.  Just call my folks and let them know where I am.  They’ll send Mark down to come get me.”

“Mark is your lawyer?”

“My family’s lawyer.  And he’s very good.”

“I’m sure he is,” he replied, leaning back in the metal chair.

As far as cops went, this one wasn’t so bad.  Lizzy could smell the smoke on his jacket and his yellowed teeth implied he was not just a smoker, but a heavy one.  Truth told, Lizzy could have gone for one herself just then.  She teased the lock of purple hair – a single streak amid the dark black of her usual dyed color – with one finger, not allowing herself to drop her eyes.  She wanted him to know that she had played this game before.  Sitting in a police station, waiting for a lawyer.

Lizzy wasn’t a delinquent, necessarily, and her age now placed her firmly in the world of adult criminals, but she had her moments.  Quick to anger, she had been kicked out of a few clubs, brought in on occasion for leaving a raking claw mark on some skank’s cheek, but it was all fun.  She had never really hurt anyone before.  Well, maybe the girl with the bright blonde hair that had called her a slut.  Lizzy had left the imprint of her skull ring on her left cheek, which brought her to the station tonight.

“You know why you’re here?” the cop asked, rubbing his fingers together in a way that suggested to Lizzy it had been a while since his last smoke.

“Just let me talk to the her.  I’m sure I can get her to drop the charges.”

“The reason you’re here,” he continued, “is because you have chosen a life of selfishness.  It’s all about you, isn’t it?”

Lizzy’s grin spread, curling up on one side in a sardonic look that all those who knew her would recognize.  “As opposed to being about you, or some whore at the Delta?”

The Delta was the club where Lizzy had been arrested following the assault.  Alleged assault, she reminded herself.  Mark often stressed silence during any police interview.  Words, he said, would only hurt, never help.

“This funny to you?” the cop asked, sitting back hard in the industrial metal chair.  His eyes were dark and ferret-like, darting from Lizzy to the door and back again, as if he were the one in trouble and not Lizzy.  “You think your looks are going to get you anywhere?”  he laughed to himself at that, a dark chuckle that made Lizzy nervous.

“I think it’s funny you think you and the rest of the boys in blue are going to make me nervous by putting me in this room.  This isn’t my first rodeo.”

A tap at the door drew the cop’s attention and he hurried to answer it, ignoring Lizzy now.  The smirk on his face was more disconcerting than anything else in the room.  It was a look of silent confidence, one Lizzy perfected for herself.  She felt her own stone facade crack as doubt crept in.

“This is her?” the new arrival asked.  He was tall and angular, a collection of bones with skin stretched over tautly.  His hair was probably graying, but the short-cropped cut could have been blonde, too.  His voice was almost musical with its European accent, German if Lizzy had to guess, but a dialect that could have come from a dozen outlying counties.

“Yeah,” the detective muttered, “That’s her.”

The stranger nodded tersely and Lizzy half-expected him to click the heels of his boots together and salute with the same precision of movements.  Glancing under the table, she was disappointed to see he wore plain black loafers.

“We will be only a moment,” the stranger said, ushering the detective out with a hand at the small of the burly detective’s back.  “Thank you for letting us know.”

The metal door shut behind the detective, leaving Lizzy alone with the Teutonic gentleman in his deep blue suit and skeletal smile.  He stared at Lizzy a long moment from his place by the door before crossing to the table between them and sitting, arranging his overcoat over his lap.  He held Lizzy’s gaze another moment, then extended his hand from beneath his pillowed coat.  Instinctively, Lizzy took it, shook once, and settled back in the uncomfortable industrial chair provided by the police station.  They would not be getting a good review on Yelp.

“So, Ms. Barringer,” he began with that same uneasy smile, “you have been a very naughty girl.”

“It was just a disagreement,” Lizzy countered.

“I don’t mean just tonight, oh no no no,” he grinned, tsking.  “You have been what we call an adventuress.  A long history of problem behavior.  I have an arrangement with the police who desire to have such an element as yourself taken from the streets.”

“I won’t spend a day in jail, if that’s what you mean.  Who the hell are you, anyway?”

The stranger laughed, a genuine and long laugh, his head tilted back to the tiled ceiling.  “You misunderstand,” he said, wiping his eyes.  “I have no intention of taking you to prison.  Oh no no no.  You are far too valuable to be sent away to some steel and concrete monolith.  Not when you are so fetching.  Tell me, do you prefer this look?”

Lizzy looked down at herself and back at the stranger, eyes blazing.  Was he coming on to her with his talk of ‘fetching’ girls and her style?  She preferred dark clothes and makeup, sure, and she had inherited beauty from her mother.  Their lifestyle, wealthy as her family was, provided her with anything she desired as long as she maintained appearances, which Lizzy had.  When called upon, she could be as striking as any girl in the room.

“Yes, and you still haven’t told me your name.”

“Klaus,” he said simply, the thin smile plastered across his death-like face.  “And I ask because it is the last choice left to you.  This hair and the lipstick… you like it?”

“Yes, it’s fine, but what-?”

“Be silent, please.”

And just like that her mouth closed.  Lizzy frowned, forcing he mouth open, but it was no use.  She could not force her muscles to obey.

“Ah, I know that look,” Klaus said, standing, rounding the table to lean into Lizzy’s ear.  “Panic, no?  You fight and you fight, but you can’t seem to make your body work, is that it?  You may nod.”

She nodded, turning her head up to face the man inexplicably exerting his will over her.

“Good.  Let me assure you, your worry is only temporary.  Stand, please.”

And she did, just as before.  No will or intent, only obedience to the stranger’s words.

“Follow.”

Lizzy followed him out the door, cursing her body for its betrayal.  She could not move her hands independently, she could not cease her legs from leading her through the station where the detective watched, arms folded across his broad chest.  Lizzy followed until Klaus opened a car door for her and waved her inside.  Apparently his control was just as effective with a gesture as words as she bent and slid onto the wide back seat of a luxury sedan.  Klaus closed the door and joined her in the back seat, a driver in front glancing up only to ensure his passengers were safely inside before pulling away from the curb.

It was then, with the police station shrinking behind her and the glow of streetlights racing along the windows that Lizzy felt real fear.  Despite being in a part of town she knew well – there was The Cabaret, a club she’d been removed from a few weeks before – she was far away from everything she knew.  She could not resist Klaus’s hand as it rested on her bare knee, a flick of his fingers brushing her black lace skirt higher up her thigh to reveal the creamy white skin of her upper leg.

“You have many questions.  For now.  Those will be erased.  You are now the property of Frau Helena Kurtz, and she will expect your delivery in two days.  More than enough time to prepare you.  I have heard wonderful things about Helena’s galas.  I would be jealous if I didn’t know your place there.”  He chuckled, his pointed fingers tracing their way up and down the inside of Lizzy’s thigh.

Lizzy sat casually in the back seat, unable to generate the scream that echoed in her head, or to open the car door and hurl herself outside.  Worse, Klaus’s slow and steady stroking was stoking a fire in Lizzy she despised, an arousal she felt shamed by.

“Don’t feel bad about enjoying yourself,” the German said.  Whether he was able to read her thoughts or, more horribly, had been through this procedure enough to know just what Lizzy was feeling, the resulting sense of helplessness was the same.  “Before we arrive and you’re gone forever, I’ll satisfy one curiosity.”  He held a thin finger aloft in demonstration, the other forever caressing.  “When you took my hand, a simple gesture, you were given a cocktail of chemicals that have but one desired effect.  To make you absolutely obedient.  From the moment you touched my hand, your fate was sealed.”

Lizzy’s sex was growing hotter, needier.  As much as she reviled the man’s touch, another part of her wanted him to continue up her thigh, to part the lips awaiting him there, to thrust inside her…

“Ah, yes, I can tell by the red of your cheeks that you are feeling much more open, now.  Don’t waste your enthusiasms on an old man such as me.  You will find your whole existence will be filled with men and women waiting to be pleased by you.  Now sleep, Fraulein.  Sleep and awake to your new life.”

Without hesitation or debate, Lizzy closed her eyes.

Helena Kurtz marched down the carpeted steps amid a whirlwind of servants and hired help, all twenty minutes behind schedule.  While the late-middle-aged woman appeared severe as she clapped her hands and barked orders, inside she was a girl again, barely able to contain her excitement.  The red dress she wore, elegant and flirty, was specially designed for her, highlighting her green eyes and fiery hair while distracting from the age marks appearing on her skin.

She was old money, and lots of it, but this was her first time hosting one of the venerable Indulgence Parties.  She had spared no expense, even inviting a few close friends early to sample the wares and ensure there were no problems with the party favors.  Helena marched through the tall passage to the study, now converted into a small pleasure palace.  She rapped lightly before turning the knob, still surprised by the countenances of her purchases.

There had been six in all, each purchased through the back channels that kept Helena’s hands clean.  Trafficking in human beings was a dangerous business, although measurably less so for these girls.  None of them could remember their true names or where they came from.  They knew only pleasure and obedience.

Helena could see the round ass of one of the girls, nude, of course, with positively gorgeous alabaster skin, her face hidden by the bare bottom of Chancellor Derek Hayes, who gripped the girl’s dark hair and guided himself deeper into her open mouth.  She watched as Hayes tensed and released, holding the girl’s head to his member.  When he had grunted his way into completion, he drew up his dark trousers and turned to Helena, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief removed from the breast pocket of his elegant jacket.

“Hello, Helena, thank you again for the invitation.”

“I trust you find everything to your liking?”  Helena looked over the other girls, content to amuse one another until more guests arrived.  They were dressed in identical unitards, black and rubbery, barely containing their chests.  Each one was a picture of beauty, but something about the raven-haired girl drew the eye.  While others were blonde and buxom, the picture of the fabled “California girl,” this one was sultry and alluring, a teasing purple streak in he.

“Yes, quite,” Hayes said, joining Helena at the door as the girl remained on all fours, watching Hayes as he tidied himself.  Her mouth was glistening with a musky blend of saliva and semen, her eyes heavy-lidded and dreamy. She idly licked her lips, her hips swaying behind her, inviting anyone to have a taste of the sweet cleft between her legs.  Finally, one of the other girls, a red-haired drone with freckled skin, crawled to the sultry thrall on all fours and buried her face in the girl’s ass, generating another moan of pleasure.  “What is that one’s name?”

“Lizzy.  She’s lovely.”

“I might like to take her off your hands after the party,” Hayes smiled, guiding Helena out the door and into the hall, leaving the half-dozen pleasure slaves to explore one another a bit longer before they were needed for public use.

Lizzy looked up as the door closed, mind blank save for a single purpose: ‘I am for pleasure.’  She came again as the redhead forced her tongue into the glistening slit.

Outside, Helena considered Hayes’ offer.  “You never know,” she said.  “Everything has a price.”

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