#BABYMACHINE

by Cassandra Dee

  But I struggled to keep my emotions in check, showing nothing to the world.

  “Hey Jimmy,” I said, my voice deceptively mild. “How’s it going?”

  “Oh you know,” he said, ringing my food up. “It goes. I guess it’s going for you and your brothers too, isn’t it?” he said smarmily. I wanted to punch his face, knock out some of those brown, tobacco-stained teeth.

  But I forced myself to focus, not let my emotions get in the way.

  “Oh sure,” I said lightly, “Life goes on, you know. By the way, I was wondering when you’d be coming by the Donkey next?”

  Now it was his turn to grow beet red, the color mottling his skin. I bet he hadn’t expected me to tackle the issue head on, much less say the word “Donkey” out loud. But he recovered quickly.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, scoffing. “Never heard of the place.”

  “Oh yeah?” I said sweetly, giving him a coy glance. “Joy says hi by the way.”

  If possible, the dickhead turned even brighter red, purple almost, the top of his head practically popping off with excitement and embarrassment. Because yeah, I’d asked around if anyone had seen Jimmy Long that night, who’d been talking to him. And what do you know, the girls remembered a lech coming backstage that night acting like he owned the joint.

  “Girl, why you wanna know about a guy like that?” asked Ebony, a seasoned dancer in her forties. “He’s got no money.”

  I shook my head. Trust Ebony to stick to the basics. No money, no dance.

  “Because he owes me cash,” I said slowly. “I think he took a cut of my tips.”

  Now this was serious business. We were there to get paid and had a right to know if our earnings had been tapped.

  “How? Why?” asked Snooker, a cute little blonde, bouncy and twenty-one at most.

  “It’s the night I did the blue light,” I said. “The football team sent a guy backstage afterwards with a wad of cash. My earnings,” I clarified. “But their delivery boy took some of that for himself, so I’m trying to figure out who saw him, how he pulled it off,” I said.

  “Man, that’s low,” whistled Ebony. “You tell us when you figure it out, kay girlie? We don’t need no cheaters like that.” She walked off, her ass wiggling with the feathers attached to her panties.

  But Snooker wasn’t so quick to go. She obviously had some info.

  “I think I remember that guy,” she said slowly. “Was he really ugly, with bad skin, bad hair, a midget about yea tall?” she asked, gesturing with her hand.

  I nodded slowly.

  “Yeah, that sounds like Jimmy,” I confirmed.

  “Well,” continued Snooker, “after you danced that night you were kind of passed out afterwards, remember?” she said. “You were lying on the lounger over there, resting, and this dude came in. He had money for you, but he was acting like he was boss around here, like we had to do whatever he wanted.”

  Us girls hate that. Sometimes patrons come backstage and act like the Prince of Persia, we’re their concubines cum personal servants, there to do their bidding. The entitlement emanates in waves off these guys and worst of all, they usually don’t have any money.

  But Snooker continued.

  “He came backstage and he was trying to feel up girls with both hands, practically dropping the money, his boner out and waving,” she said slowly.

  Oh god, gross. The worst type of client.

  “Yeah, so Joy took one for the team,” said Snooker. “She grabbed the money out of his hand, knelt down, and then gave him head.”

  I gasped. Sex backstage was commonplace but had Joy done it just to drive him away?

  Snooker nodded.

  “Yeah, she really did it,” she confirmed. “She took that dong in her mouth, it was practically crusty, he was so dirty, and got him off just so that he’d leave.”

  I was shocked, shaking my head, but suddenly knew how to get this ball rolling.

  “Tell Joy thanks,” I said tightly. “I owe her one.”

  “I will,” said Snooker as she walked off, her look sympathetic. “She’ll be on later this week, you can tell her yourself if you see her.”

  I nodded, turning to adjust my costume, getting ready to go on-stage. And as the music started, I began dancing like a she-devil, using my elasticity to do splits, aerobics, flinging around titty and ass like no other. But my mind was far away because I was forming a plan, how to make things right after this horrible blow to the twins’ athletic careers.

  And now Jimmy Long was right in front of me in the lunch line, dressed in a paper apron, a yellow visor on his head as he rang up my soup.

  I smiled sweetly at him.

  “Joy says hi, by the way,” I repeated, my voice coated in sugar. I could tell he knew who Joy was. Even when strippers use fake stage names, a client knows. They always know.

  Jimmy stuttered, grew red, and began sweating under the fluorescent lights, aggravating his acne problem.

  “Come back and see her,” I purred. “She’s on Thursday night at midnight for a blue light. You’ll like it,” I added coyly. “Maybe you’ll get picked as the special guy!” I tossed off lightly over my shoulder as I grabbed my tray, turning away.

  And with satisfaction, I saw Jimmy standing with his mouth open, gaping after me, his narrow shoulders trembling with anticipation, his breathing fast. It’d worked, I thrown the hook and the fish had bit. We’d see him this week … for sure.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Karlie

  “Oh yeah!” squealed Joy. “This is going to be awesome.”

  That’s what I love about Joy. I’d figured I’d have to persuade her somehow, cajole the girl into helping me, but instead she was totally game, her big boobies bouncing, a tiny yellow thong her only clothing.

  “You sure?” I asked carefully. “Jimmy’s gross, this isn’t going to be easy to swallow.”

  “No prob,” said Joy waving her hand. “Trust me, I’ve already swallowed the dude, what could be worse? Besides, anyone who fucks with the Donkey deserves to be destroyed,” she added, drawing a threatening line across her throat.

  I had to laugh. It looked so out of place, her boobies hanging out, her cunt practically visible, teetering in high heels yet gesturing like an assassin.

  But hey, no one likes to be cheated and we girls stick together. So here we were, getting ready for a blue light, the clock ticking towards midnight. Joy was ready, I was ready, two women nude … and totally lethal.

  “Ohh, I think I see him,” breathed Joy, peeking out from behind the velvet curtain. “Oh yeah, he’s acting like the Queen of Sheba again.”

  I shook my head, disgusted. Trust Jimmy Long, cafeteria cashier cum wannabe blackmailer, to act like a hotshot. God, some people have such inflated ideas of themselves.

  But we were here to work, and Joy and I were prepared.

  “So you want me to walk out first, right?” she asked, rubbing oil over her body, the glimmering lotion making her slick and slippery.

  “Yeah, make sure he sees you and follows you to the back,” I confirmed, parting my cunny lips a little and holding myself open to push in a pocket rocket. Oh god, that felt good and I closed my eyes slightly and moaned a bit as I focused on the insertion, feeling the little motor in my twat, stimulating my clit as it worked my channel. I needed to act sexy around Jimmy and this would make the job easier, I was seriously revolted at the thought of seducing him.

  But a job is a job.

  “Ooh, looks delicious,” breathed Joy, watching me with avid eyes as I positioned the toy in myself. “No worries, I can do it without props, I just gotta be out in time for my special,” she said saucily. “Tonight, it’s gonna rain on me!” she giggled gleefully.

  I knew she was excited for the blue light, it speaks to the dancer inside, plus the money is just so good. But I wanted her to be careful because we had a mission.

  “Come on,” I whispered, taking her hand. Jimmy had seated himself in the back
, his scrawny arms spread along the back of the booth like he was Al Pacino in Scarface. “Let’s go.”

  And Joy and I were on it. Strutting like peacocks, we entered the male crowd as another dancer was on stage, working the patrons with an air of practiced ease, shaking our asses, letting them stroke boobies, maybe touch a little cunt as we chatted them up, licking their cheeks, making cooing noises.

  Slowly but inevitably, we made our way to the back, where Jimmy was sitting, his legs sprawled. God. He’d had another acne break-out and even the dim lighting at the Donkey couldn’t hide it.

  “Heya Jimmy,” purred Joy, throwing that blonde hair backwards, shimmying a little, shaking her nips at him. “I missed you.”

  And it was like magic. If his dick hadn’t been hard before, it definitely was now. The little shit jerked like he’d been electrocuted by Joy’s voice, coming alive like a wire, sitting up straight, his ears perked.

  “Hi Joy,” he managed in a high-pitched voice. He was all about her, running his hands up and down her flanks, snapping that yellow thong, pulling it back to inspect her ass. And she was a true professional. Joy shook that bootie, letting him ogle, letting him caress and pet, his fingers all over those full cheeks.

  “Hey big boy,” I purred, making my way to his other side.

  By now, Jimmy had his face buried between Joy’s breasts, his head rolling back and forth as he lost himself in ecstasy. But he pulled back for a minute, squinting as he looked at me.

  “Shit Karlie,” he whined. “You spoil everything you know that?”

  I could feel the rage rising again but hid it behind a sugary smile.

  “I just wanted to make sure you’re having a good time,” I purred, “you look so big, big boy.”

  I admit the words aren’t exactly Pulitzer-worthy, but hey, this is the Donkey and it’s about action, not talk.

  I skated nearer to the man, the bile rising in my throat as I got a whiff of his stench. Joy was really a pro, and if my eyes weren’t betraying me, his finger was now toying with her clit, flicking it back and forth as the blonde ground against it, giving low breathy moans interspersed with “work it, baby, work it.”

  And Jimmy just gobbled it up, like he was a big man on campus, used to girls throwing themselves at him.

  “If you like, Tiger, we can bring this backstage for a little privacy,” I intimated, now close enough so that he could touch me if he wanted to. My skin crawled at the thought, but my little vibrator made it easier, the trembles shaking against my sweet spot, helping me smile even though I hated his guts.

  “I want what Joy wants,” he gasped, his eyes never leaving her nude, oiled body, her hips now positively rocking on his fingers.

  At that, Joy took her cue.

  “I want to get it on with you,” she breathed, humping down on his hand, taking digits in her. “Come on, let’s do it,” she said, trailing a finger down the side of his face.

  And then she surprised me. Without pulling his hand from her cunny, she began walking, using his arm like a leash. If he wanted to keep touching her wetness, he was going to have to follow, and this guy was like an obedient dog. Jimmy Long stumbled along behind the stripper as she made her way towards the back, his hand buried between her legs, leering at everyone who looked up as if to say, “Yeah, I’m a fuckstud.”

  Just as she reached a private door, Joy looked back at him, purring, “Come on big boy, let’s get a private room,” and with a swish, they were through the entryway.

  I pranced behind them, winking at customers along the way, pausing only when we got to the long, dark hall. But Joy was already at the far end, still pulling Jimmy along with her pussy, tantalizing him, clamping down to keep his fingers locked in her cunt.

  And with a smooth move, she opened the door, ushering him in.

  “Come on,” she breathed. “Karlie and I will show you a good time.”

  And that was my cue. I signaled and in a flash, Colt and Cain appeared, hurtling into the small back room, their massive bodies moving at light speed despite their bulk, shoving Jimmy in before the door clanked shut, leaving Joy and I gaping at each other on the outside.

  Within a few seconds we heard a howl of anguish, the cry of a frightened man. And was it my imagination, or did liquid start to run from under the door, pooling wetly on the concrete floor, the smell pungent with fear? Oh yeah, my steps had made Long pee in his pants, literally soak himself … and he deserved it.

  Because Jimmy had wronged us in a bad way and vengeance would be ours. My steps were there to make sure of it.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Colt

  I probably shouldn’t get into details about what happened in that room. I mean, it wasn’t like we were waterboarding Jimmy, but two football players versus an equipment assistant slash cafeteria cashier? No contest, no bullshit, the pain only goes one way.

  We beat him, yeah, that’s obvious, and we know how not to leave marks. Football is a contact sport, we know how the body works, where to strike, when to pull our punches, how to triple the terror so that your mind’s screaming with pain even as your throat clenches silently in agony.

  There are non-violent ways to solve problems but Cain and I don’t preach that story. We’re about action, going for the kill when necessary, and Jimmy Long’s number was up.

  So yeah, when he came out of the room, he was worse for the wear. The dude was almost unconscious, his head lolling back and forth, supported between my twin and I. It was a joke. He was so scrawny that either of us could have slung him over our shoulder except that neither of us wanted that kind of physical contact with the loser.

  We lowered him into a wheelchair Karlie had waiting, her eyes big.

  “Brothers, is he going to be okay?” she breathed. I could tell why she asked. Although there was neither blood nor bruises, the small man was lethargic, the whites of his eyes visible, his breathing labored.

  “Oh yeah,” grunted Cain. “Trust me, he’ll survive because he’s gotta testify before the NCAA.”

  And that was the second part of our plan. Jimmy was about to write a letter to the NCAA retracting all his claims, stating that he’d made the whole thing up as a misguided effort to blackmail Karlie. Our favorite girl had already ghost written the letter and she pulled it out now.

  “Come on Jimmy,” she said, reaching for his hand. “Time to sign.”

  And I was merciless. I grabbed the dude’s limp wrist, helping him form a fist around the pen.

  “No cameras around here, right?” I growled, scanning the walls and ceilings.

  “None,” confirmed Karlie.

  And that was that. With his hand in mine, I signed the letter with Jimmy’s name, topping it off with a flourish. Okay, it was a little shaky but what needed to be done had to be done.

  Karlie whipped the letter away and stowed it into her purse, to be mailed to the Commissioner himself. In the meantime, Cain went outside to find the dude’s car.

  “We’re going to drive him home?” she asked timorously.

  “Yeah,” I grunted. “Our job’s not over yet. This fucker’s getting a ride with us as his chauffeurs.”

  And that’s what happened. We wheeled him into the car, positioning him in the backseat, even strapping him in with a seatbelt. So close to the end zone, there was no sense in risking his life.

  Slowly, we pulled into a shitty neighborhood, the yards overgrown, the houses dumpy, the bark of pitbulls audible behind rotting fences.

  “Man, he’s from here?” growled Cain, his eagle eyes scanning the scenery. I knew what he was thinking. Poor Jimmy Long, he must have been from some trashy family, if he even had any family.

  But pretty soon, we pulled up to a duplex, the paint fading, the shutters sagging on their hinges.

  A woman ran out when she saw the car pull up with Jimmy slumped in the backseat. Her hair was in curlers, dark roots with the most awful bleach, too much make-up, dressed in ripped denim shorts.

  “Jimmeeeee!” she screeched. “Wh
at ya done now, ya fuckwad?”

  “Who are you lady? His mom?” grunted Cain, eyeing her with disgust. I’d gotten a glimpse of her teeth and they were rotted, open sores on her face. Yeah, she was probably a meth user.

  “His mom?” screeched the woman. “Fuck you, I’m his baby mama! Me and Jimboy, we have two kids together.”

  The three of us stopped in our tracks, gaping at each other. Shit, Jimbo was sleeping with this? Even worse, he had kids with her? Life was tougher for Jimmy than we’d previously thought. No wonder he’d thrown himself at Karlie, hoping for a piece of her delicious ass, going so far as to blackmail my brother and I. His life was so twisted and depressing that he was willing to risk anything for a high, pretend he was someone else.

  But Cain and I were done with the douchebag. I was tempted to leave him on the sidewalk, let the witch get him inside, but Karlie’s eyes pleaded with me silently. Oh yeah, our sister was too nice, too giving, and I nodded my assent.

  “Come on,” I said to my brother. “Let’s go.”

  And we hauled his scrawny ass inside, leaving him right inside the door. Heartbreakingly, we could hear a baby crying, its howls loud and angry even as the sickly smell of marijuana hung heavy in the air.

  “Listen bitch, stop toking with your kids here,” growled my brother to the woman, who’d followed us with her bare feet.

  “You don’t get to tell me what to do!” she screeched. “What you done to my man? You owe us money for this damage!”

  I looked around the home skeptically. The furniture was broken down, the carpet with obvious burn marks, a pile of something indescribable in the corner, the windows papered over.

  “There’s no money that can help you,” I ground out. “But I’m tempted to call Child Protective Services.”

  “You take my baby away from me and you’ll regret it!” screeched the woman again. Looks like threats and blackmail ran rampant in this family unit.

  I just shook my head at her, my massive form taking up way too much room in the tiny, dank space.