The camera’s point-of-view is over Nikki’s shoulder, at the ultra-thin cashier for M1R, as Nikki pays the five-dollar cover charge. The cashier is a skinny black queen wearing an intricately looped sterling silver choker.
Nikki steps into the M1R then pauses to take in the busy scene.
Perfect breasts bounce to thumping afro-cuban drum and bass. Warm flesh offered for inspection. People of all types toss back shots of cheap alcohol and smell of scented and unscented crotch. Happy sweaty faces absorbing nasty memories as evidenced by the miles of thick wet smiles.
Nikki walks up to the bar. “Martini,” she says to the willowy albino bartender.
“Sound quality is amazing.” I say.
“I can filter out everything and focus just on her voice.” Geek replies as he tweaks the controls.
The bartender gives her the drink.
“Is Carol in?” Nikki asks. Then she sips her drink.
The bartender studies Nikki. Then, after the tall waif pours a beer for another customer, she nods toward the right.
I study the monitor. I spot Carol against the wall wearing a long silver dress. She’s cut her jet-black hair real short since last I saw her. Yet, her eyes and mouth remain unchanged; they droop softly at the corners, giving her a perpetually cheerless countenance, an expression she wears with erotic wit.
Nikki leaves a tip on the bar and having recognized Carol, walks across the crowded room toward her.
“Hey, hey … hey – when you dancin’?” A semi-upright Neanderthal slurs at Nikki.
“I’m on at eight, love. I hope you stay and wait for me.” She rakes her fingernails across his moist cheek as she walks away.
“Hell yeah I’ll wait!” The drunk shouts at her back. “Show me your tits!”
Nikki spins and lifts her shirt for a flash. She turns away from the applause and continues toward Carol.
“Damn,” Geek says.
I nod with a smile.
Nikki approaches Carol.
“Carol, I’m Nikki. Superbad sent me.”
Carol studies her. In time she gives Nikki a cool smile.
“How is Superbad these days?” Carol asks.
“Sometimes he’s alive, sometimes he’s dead. It’s weird,” Nikki replies.
Carol looks at her with a cocked eyebrow and something akin to a question forms on her lips but dies.
The house music gets madder so the dancing girls become more frenetic. Of course dance whore Nikki has the beat.
Carol looks at Nikki. Something in Carol’s gaze changes, perhaps brightens, then, is muted. I have the feeling that Carol knows Nikki.
Carol says, “I like the way you handled that customer a moment ago. You remind me of someone from that London Deep scene a few years back. You ever dance DUK?”
“I’ve danced all over the world.” Nikki says, then, sips her drink. “Yeah, I’ve twirled around a London pole or two for fun and profit. I may have done a gig at Dark.”
Carol nods to no one.
Quick as fire, a young girl appears at Carol’s side. The happy waif holds open a slender silver case. Carol removes a thin filtered cigar from the case. She offers one to Nikki. Nikki accepts. The pretty cigar girl holds the lighter at the ready. The women light their smokes from the single flame of a penis head lighter. The young girl goes away.
Nikki exhales a fine stream of smoke. “I didn’t think anyone remembered the DUK,” she says to Carol. “That was so long ago. Parliament has moved onto much larger sex scandals.”
“Yes they have,” Carol replies with tight lips. She takes a hard and clipped hit from her cigar and exhales a soft puff of smoke.
Carol snatches a fresh drink off a waitress’ serving tray. She knocks back the shot. “You’re a strange little bitch,” she tells Nikki.
“Yeah, I hear that a lot.” Nikki replies. She sips her martini.
The ladies smoke in silent cool as they scan the doorways for Liz, as does Geek’s camera.
Carol snatches another drink from a passing serving tray. “Why did Superbad send you? What did he tell you about me?”
“Well, he told me nothing about you. And he sent me because, hell, I don’t know why I got elected for this.”
“Well, I remember you from the Dark. You’re volatile. Downright hostile as I recall.”
Nikki nods. “Yeah.” She smokes and drinks and bounces to the beat.
Carol looks away. She smokes and drinks and studies the floor.
I say, “I forgot ...”
“What did you forget?” Geek asks.
“I forgot Nikki’s time in London. You know Nikki as Pam Brown.”
“What? Oh man – wow!” Geek says. He calls up PAUL’s profile on Nikki and reads.
I say, “Carol owned a few shops in LD. Nikki used two of Carol’s shops to stage her play. Nikki doesn’t know Carol from the Virgin Mary, she just used Carol’s shops because that’s where her targets went.”
“Damn. Nikki is a sick little girl.” Geek lights a cigarette. “I will be very careful with her.”
“You’re golden now. Just don’t cross her.”
“Or try to make an example of her.” Geek says.
I nod. That was the crux of the London Deep. Pam Brown had been set up as the corrupt whore selling corporate and government secrets. Truth was; Pam acquired her knowledge as payment for very deviant sexual favors. And she got caught when she tried to exercise an inside stock tip. She tried to barter her freedom with information but the more she revealed, the more this official or that authority found new ammunition and so bottled Nikki up even further, offering multitudes of clauses before they’d even consider a reduced jail sentence. Eventually she tired of it all and decided to burn the whole thing down. She set up an orgy with twenty high profile members of Parliament and law enforcement, as well as corporate leaders attending what had been a tame bachelor party. The whole affair was recorded and released online. Thousands of copies of the six-hour sex party were received in mailboxes around the world. Scores of lives were ruined by the scandal. Six of the men in the recording committed suicide. And it was the suicides that had been the most shocking thing about the scandal. Suicide was an abnormality. It just didn’t happen anymore. And here were six within three months. Pam Brown became the most hated woman on the planet. So Nikki made her disappear.
I see Liz walk into the main room of M1R. She walks over by the bar and takes in the scene. She’s probably looking for me.
Nikki and Carol look at one another, having spotted Liz.
Then Liz sees Carol. She walks toward her.
A few moments later the three women are up close and personal. We look down on the trio as Geek’s camera is above the women.
“Good to see you, Carol,” says Liz.
“And you, Liz. You look well.”
“Thanks,” Liz replies with a nod. She looks at Nikki.
“You’re Apollo’s infamous traveling partner.” Liz says to Nikki. Perhaps a little frosty, but I could be imagining things.
The greeting doesn’t faze Nikki. “Nice to meet you too, Liz. Do you know what your tail looks like?”
“Which one? I swear I got six guys on my ass.”
“Doors. I want visuals on all the men that followed this woman inside and are showing interest in her,” a discreet Carol says into the wire of her headset.
I note nine men take positions around the club interior. A few of the bouncers nod or motion to certain seated or standing men, five by my count.
Carol leads Nikki and Liz from the main room and into heaven on earth. The dancer’s dressing room. Dozens of women in various states of dress and undress perfumed and coifed to cock-hardening perfection. The whole room, even the ceiling, is mirrored. You get a fabulous view no matter where you look.
“I gotta share this,” Geek says with a thin grin. His fingers glide over the keypad. “This is going live over the net. I’m clouding out Carol, Liz and Nikki. And no sound.”
“Man, you’re Santa Claus
today. This is gonna cause a masturbation wildfire.” I sure as hell want to pet my puppy.
“I’m notifying TV producers to this link. The same guys I pitched the camera to last week. This should drive up the bidding war.”
New screens appear above Geek’s workstation. The live images on the left screen are a silent feed of the dancers. The live scene on the right screen is dedicated to Liz, Carol and Nikki and has sound.
“The images on the left are the live feed to the net,” Geek says, confirming what I’d thought.
Carol introduces Liz to the endless wardrobe. “It’s all yours. Knock yourself out.”
“Thank you.” Liz says as she studies the selection.
Geek’s camera continues to scan the dressing room. As soon as I spot a perfect set of tits, the best ass on the planet strolls by and once I lock onto that, the sweetest little girl pout stops the world. Then the camera angles shifts to close-ups and askew vistas of faces and bodies are captured in the many-mirrored panes. I’m in love with the elegant geisha sitting on the divan, and now the extremely tall Brazilian beauty gives me a warm fuzzy feeling, and definitely the profile of a thin Nordic ice-doll smoking a cigarette is exciting, and my-o-my, the smoky amber eyes of that petite Black girl are luscious.
In my mind I’m screwing them all right now and forever.
“Looks like our girls are ready to go,” says Geek.
And like that I’m crashing back to reality. I see Liz has a blonde wig. She wears red bikini bottoms and a black leather vest. She works her feet into tall stiletto heels. Then she dons a blue fisherman’s cap.
Nikki puts on a short plaid skirt and a tight and plain white shirt. She set her hair in unbraided-pigtails. Now she pulls out her wand/comb, makes an adjustment on the instrument. One pass along her hair and presto her hair becomes the color of stardust.
“What the hell? How’d you do that?” Carol asks Nikki.
“It’s called Body Flourish. Very teeny-tiny implants under my scalp, eyes, nails and skin.” She begins the demonstration with her eyes: she aims the tip of the wand at her eye and taps the wand with her forefinger. She then applies eyeliner and eye shadow. Now Nikki changes the color of her fingernails. The whole change of appearance takes about fifteen seconds.
“That’s great!” says a tiny dancer. “How much for the whole job?”
“The deal goes on sale next season, but you can get hooked up now if you place your order with me – right now. I’m a basic model number nine B. Fifty gees and you’re set like me but there is so much more that you can do. It’s a Japanese outfit so you know the science is good. There are two offices here in the city.” Nikki pulls out her phone.
“This unit can talk to anything on the market so just hook up with me and I’ll give you all the details. And when you place your order, you’ll get an appointment right away. It’s a two-hour procedure with very little inconvenience.”
The other girls scoot away to get their phones. They quickly return and patiently line up to hook up with Nikki.
“She’s got more horses running than an afternoon at Belmont.” Geek says with delight.
“Yeah, she’s special alright.” I reply.
And Nikki’s so smug when she tells me I’m not human. She’s got a ton of implants too so what’s the difference? Even Geek has had modifications made to the original unit. In most cases, the only truly organic humans are babies.
Something occurs to me. “Does this invisibility include electronic detection? This camera must show up as an anomaly on the security units, especially the barrier entrance.”
“You’re right. I’m sure there are security technicians scrambling like mad to pinpoint this camera. It emits shadows, like my transport, so it will take them sometime to place the camera in the strip club.”
“Unless someone at work is watching the feed,” I say.
“And that’s not happening,” Geek replies with certainty.
“But web traffic…”
“It comes up as a porn link.”
“Right, no one pays attention to that,” I state with a knowing nod. Porn sites come and go like the breeze.
“Ladies …” Carol gets everyone’s attention. “Nikki and her friend need to make a hasty exit, so I want everyone to go out and blitz the floor. Give it the midnight polish. Leave no dick unturned.” She snaps her fingers and more than forty beautiful women leave the dressing room.
Geek kills the stripper-cam.
“I’m going out this door. You two exit anyway you can. My doormen and the other girls will run interference. Sissy will show you the dancers’ exit. You both look good so go ahead and make some money before you ease your butts out the door. And tell Superbad to drop in and say hello.”
“Thanks for your help.” Nikki says.
Carol nods then exits via a mirrored door.
“Here, put these in.” Nikki hands Liz a pair of contact lenses. “Geek said they’d beat all security scans.”
Liz dons the clear lenses. “Thanks. You’ve met Geek? I’ve never met Geek.”
“He’s cool. You’ll like him.”
Liz and Nikki follow a short redhead from the dressing room. Geek’s camera is one and half meters above and in front of the women.
Our girls meet the bristling crowd with smiles. Sissy nods toward the left, at the end of the runway that disappears behind the curtain. Sissy then dances her way toward a lap begging for attention.
Nikki and Liz hit the floor like regular working girls. And Nikki, or rather, Vanessa DiRay does have a license to thrill. Nikki slides her ass over the lap of a skinny guy. He slips a five-dollar bill in her bra then squeezes her breasts.
Right behind Nikki, Liz smacks her tits against the face of dapper man waving paper money.
I knew Liz would be up for this kind of fun but Nikki’s subtle expression says she is surprised by Liz’s play.
“Nikki and Liz are coming back here, right?” Geek asks.
“Oh yeah. And I’m brewing up unspeakable sex acts involving me and the ladies.”
“I got some unsavory thoughts of my own.”
Nikki massages the crotch of her play as she peels single greenbacks from the guy’s free hand. His other hand is engaged.
Meantime Liz is nursing her play. Liz has the perfect tits for this job. Her girls cut a slender upward swoop, offering fat brown areolas and thick nipples. I feast on that lovely set as much as possible. The guy supports her breast with a palm flush with dollar bills, a cushy green nest.
Geek and I watch Liz and Nikki ease away from their marks like a succubus, leaving behind mean smiles and warm, wet crotches.
At the end of the catwalk, behind the curtains, Carol approaches Nikki and Liz. She hands the girls small tote bags.
“Don’t forget your clothes,” Carol says.
“Thanks,” Nikki and Liz replay in unison. The girls rush toward the exit.
Muffler waves wash over the exit gate; the music switches from M1R house pop to Balkan lounge dub without bleed.
The girls run down the bustling tube, stuffing cash into whatever pockets they can find, constantly checking their backs, racing past long metal bars that jut from the walls of both sides of the tunnel, offering liquor, narcotics and drugs from around the world. Some people consume their purchases at the bars while others have packages to go.
Liz takes advantage of the moment. She runs her card over a small black patch on the bar’s metal surface. A menu appears in the black area. Liz makes her selection. The fat bartender hands Liz a cube of hash. And just like that the girls are back on the move.
“I didn’t figure you for a party girl,” Nikki says to Liz.
“I work for Apollo.”
“True enough.” Then, “You two sweet on each other?”
“We party. It’s good,” Liz replies with ease.
“I like you,” Nikki says. “Give me your tote.”
Liz hands it over. Nikki dumps both bags into a nearby trash receptacle.
“What the hell?” Liz says.
“I’ve had a hell of a day due to tracking devices. You can’t trust anything that someone gives you.”
Liz nods as she stares at the trashcan. “Right. Good call.”
The ladies jog up the steps as soft red beams sweep over them.
Green light – the clear force field shivers – the girls glide through the security barrier.
Nikki and Liz sashay pass a group of cops. The cops nod at the girls. Nikki and Liz smile in return. They trot up the stairs toward the Underground exit.
28
The girls approach, then walk through the red, white and blue Sing-Cola logo.
Nikki and Liz wade through the crowd that is heading into the Underground.
They stand curbside on the busy avenue. Mots, personals and people pass by them. They receive hard and leering looks from the guys because they are still in their stripper outfits.
“This is where they dropped me off,” Nikki says. “I assume this is where they plan to pick us up.”
On cue, a big ugly yellow transport appears before them. I look at Geek and ask, “We haven’t moved, right?”
“Technically. We hovered at about twenty meters above the underground port. We descended and I dropped the cloak.”
A panel slides away on the side of Geek’s vehicle. Nikki and Liz rush into the transport. Geek kills the Nikki-cam.
Nikki and Liz enter the main cabin.
“Welcome back,” I say to Liz with a smile.
“Screw you,” is the sweet reply I receive, accompanied with a hug and tender kiss.
“Hi, I’m Geek.” Geek spreads his arms and waits for the love.
“Hi, I’m Liz. About time!”
They hug.
I feel good. It feels like a family reunion. Liz, Nikki, and Geek are my family. Albeit incestuous because I’ve had sex with both Liz and Nikki, and plan to continue having sex with both of them well into the future.
“So what do we do now?” asks Geek.
“How about giving me the highlights on why I was held hostage and then chased down?” Liz replies.
“We have dirt on President Gliddin and dirt on billionaire Space.” I state. “Gliddin wants Nikki and me dead but if Space pays me for my silence we may be able to cheat the hangman.”
Glass Shore Page 16