by Kory Shen
Desperate hope blossomed and died in the same heartbeat. Could Alan sustain her alpha powers somehow? Did this mean she could leave Maiden? But Alan was gone. Cover Girl looked out the cockpit window. She could barely make out the twinkling lights of The Strip at night in the distance.
Her fear of Maiden's wrath was, for a moment, overshadowed by a greater dread. Whatever Alan was, he was now in the hands of Godmother. She prayed that she hadn't made a mistake.
CHAPTER 10
Burly men in dark suits shuffled Alan into one of the waiting cars. A tall woman with raven hair watched in silence from a distance. Was that Godmother, the supposed crime boss that ran The Strip? Two men sat with him in the back of the car, one on either side. He started to ask a question, but his curiosity turned to shock as someone placed a rough bag over his head.
"Hey? What the hell? What's going on? Hello? Hello?" Alan was too scared to struggle. He looked one way then the other with the bag over his head, but no one responded.
A woman's voice, distorted as if through a speaker, spoke. "Welcome to The Strip. Sit tight. We're taking you to your new home."
Alan sat quietly for the rest of the car ride. At one point, his stomach dropped and his weight shifted forward, as if they were descending a hill. A very steep hill. They turned. His shoulder nudged the man on his left. Were they on a spiral ramp?
The inside of the bag was hot and stuffy. Alan was about to risk asking the man if he could remove the bag when the car came to an abrupt stop. Hands seized him and guided him to his feet.
"Follow me," a deep voice said.
Someone pulled on his hands. Alan stumbled forward. The floor changed, and his feet clacked on a smooth surface. They were inside a building.
"Stop. Hold still."
Alan bumped his nose into the man leading him.
Someone grabbed his hand. "This will prick."
"What?" Something small and sharp stabbed his thumb. "Ow."
"Follow me," the same voice said.
After several minutes, the bag was removed. Alan was seated in front of a large desk. It looked like an executive's office. Or a throne room.
The same tall woman from before with black hair sat in a large chair opposite him. Now that she was closer, the signs of age on her face were clear. Alan guessed that she had spent a fortune on plastic surgery and cosmetics. The firm skin of her face was too tight and too perfect. And her gray eyes were…penetrating.
"Done?" the woman asked. "How old do you think I am?"
"What? No, I wasn't…" Alan started.
"But you were." Those gray eyes saw through him.
Alan swallowed. Four muscular bodyguards stood around the large room. He hoped they were bodyguards, anyways. Not thugs.
"It's not really my place to guess that sort of thing," Alan replied.
"Please. Guess. I insist." The woman smiled.
"I have a question first. Are you Godmother?"
"You can call me that, yes," Godmother said.
"I don't know much about you, but based on purely historical facts that Cover Girl told me…"
Godmother raised an eyebrow.
Alan continued, "I would have to say around forty. That's purely because of historical facts and timelines, of course. You don't look a day over twenty-five to me." He held his breath.
Godmother's expression was unreadable. Then, she broke out into laughter.
"Men are so delightful when they're scared. It's not like I'm going to dismember you if you give the wrong answer." She turned to one of the guards. "We haven't had a dismemberment since you got here, have we, Scottie?"
"No, Godmother," the guard replied. "I have not seen a dismemberment since joining."
Alan didn't know what to say. "Um. Yes."
Godmother leaned backwards in her chair. "Alan, Alan. What are we going to do with you?" She studied him. "Do you know why you're here?"
Alan shifted in his seat. He felt like a mouse in front of a cat.
"From what I can tell, Cover Girl's boss, Maiden, wants to kill me because I slept with her girl. And I might be infected with the alphavirus. So PIERCR and some guy Fisher wants me as proof of alphas gone wild. Is that close?"
Godmother nodded. "For someone new to all this, that's a pretty fair assessment. One thing's wrong, though. I already know that you're not an alpha."
"Really?" Alan brightened. "How do you know that?"
"We ran a blood test on you already."
Alan remembered someone pricking his thumb. So that's what that was.
"Then, can I go?" Alan asked. "I mean, I'm safe, right? So everything's good?"
Godmother shook her head. "I'm afraid you can't go. One, both Maiden and Fisher still want you. Neither is exactly the reasonable type. Two, you owe me. Or rather, I own you."
"What?" Owned him? What was she talking about?
"Offering you safe haven wasn't cheap. Not when you're in the crosshairs of angry alphas and PIERCR."
Alan hadn't known what to expect when Cover Girl had brought him here. What had she gotten him into?
"Okay, but maybe if I leave right now, will that be okay?" he asked. "I'll pay for any lodging and transportation costs."
Godmother chuckled. "No, you're not leaving. Let me be clear." Godmother stopped laughing and stared into Alan's eyes. "I own everyone and everything in The Strip. No one leaves unless I let them. And I'm not letting you."
Alan's mouth opened in shock. "But why? If I'm not infected, I mean, I'm not that special. I guess I could work here. I'm good with SEO and PR, that kind of thing."
"I told you. You being here wasn't cheap. You'll need to work off the debt."
Fuck. This was straight out of a gangster movie. Alan stared back at Godmother. He wanted to yell at her, but he calmed himself down. The guards were watching him.
"Okay. I work off the debt. How much? How?"
"For you…" Godmother paused in thought. "Two months. Two months of work."
Two months. He could work with that. "All right. Two months. Do I stand around like Scottie, wash dishes, balance your books?"
"This is The Strip. What do you think you do here?"
Alan had a guess, but he didn't like it. "I can clear tables. I used to play a lot of poker in college. I can probably pick up being a dealer."
"No, Alan. For a pretty boy like you, there's only one job." Godmother eyed him like a piece of meat.
Alan stared in horror at Godmother. Visions of old haggard queens from overseas and rich, fat men filled his mind. "Hell, no."
Godmother laughed. "You don't have a choice. If you want to live, that is."
Alan knew there was no escape. His mind raced past denial and anger to settle on bargaining. "Fine. But no gay sex."
"That's acceptable."
"No old women."
Godmother frowned. Alan regretted his mistake immediately.
"No, not like you," Alan said. "You're not old. I don't think of you as old. If you wanted to, you know, I mean…" He had no problem with cougars, but all the rich people who approached him now and then had been…really old.
Godmother didn't look amused. "No old women," she said with a harsh edge to her voice. "Anything else? Do you require that all clients have certain height and weight requirements? Hair color?" She slammed her fist on the table. "You're here to work for me. Understand?"
Alan gulped. "Understood."
"Scottie," Godmother called.
"Yes, Godmother?" the guard said.
"From now on, your job is to keep an eye on Alan. Take him to the stable master and get him ready for work."
"Yes, Godmother."
Scottie walked over to Alan. "Come on. Follow me."
Everyone in the room was watching. With no other choice, Alan stood up and left the room with the guard.
* * *
Violet Brady's heels clicked on the ground as she strode into Godmother's office. The guards' eyes swept over her dark blue mini dress with more than professional intent. She di
dn't care. As a blue-eyed blonde, she was used to the jokes behind her back, the leering, the assumption that she was an airhead. She had seen lesser men promoted by the old boy's club while her own career languished. That was why she had left her last position.
Godmother had seen her for who she was, something that no man had been willing to admit. She was the world's leading expert on the alphavirus. And finally, she had her hands on a real alpha.
"Did he agree?" Violet asked.
Godmother nodded. "I made him agree."
Violet gave a puzzled look. "He gets to fuck gorgeous women all day. With free room and board. What straight man would turn that down?"
Godmother chuckled. "You'll have to trust me on this. I told him he's not an alpha."
"What?"
"He thinks he's working off a debt to a crime boss." Godmother rolled her eyes.
"That is so cliché. And he believed you?"
Godmother shrugged. "Sometimes even you forget. I am a crime boss."
Violet shook her head. "Good thing we need his body, not his brains."
"Is everything ready for the experiments?"
"The subjects are prepped and profiled. About that. I have one request." Violet bit her lip.
"Yes, I give you permission," Godmother said.
"Can I…wait what? You knew I wanted to enter the trials myself?"
"I figured. You've seen him, right?" Godmother winked.
Violet blushed. "It's not like that. It's about being an alpha. I've studied the alpha phenomenon my whole life. This is the chance to become one."
"I know how powerful that draw is. Trust me. You are attracted to him, though, right?"
"I don't mix work and play," Violet said, scowling. "I'm not like the men."
Godmother laughed. "I know. I'm teasing."
Violet tried to change the subject. "I still can't believe we got so lucky. Why would Sire abandon him?"
"Sire?"
"Oh, sorry. I forgot you two had a history."
Violet wasn't scared of Godmother like the others. If anything, Godmother had spoiled her with all the resources she needed for her work. But Sire was a touchy subject.
"Why did you mention Sire?" Godmother asked.
"Hm? He's an alpha one, so that means Sire's his alpha prime."
Godmother had been lounging casually. She sat up straight at Violet's words. "You think Alan Star is an alpha one?"
"The absolute viral counts cross the threshold into alpha one territory. Why?"
Violet didn't know where Alan came from. All she knew was that an alpha had agreed to work with them.
"An alpha two infected him," Godmother said. "Cover Girl."
"That's imposs—" Violet stopped herself. Godmother wouldn't make a mistake about something like that. "That's surprising. Very surprising."
The women stared at each other. Then, Godmother smiled. "I think your science project just became a lot more interesting."
The momentary confusion disappeared from Violet's face. This was what she lived for. Cracking the mysteries of the alphavirus.
Violet smiled in return. "Not my science project. Our science project."
CHAPTER 11
The women came to Alan's room every day. The first night, only three women had shown up. The next day, five. From the third day onward, Alan was on a steady schedule of eight women a day. It was brutal. Eight women in one day was difficult but manageable. The problem was repeating that every single day. He didn't think he could take any more before chafing or other problems arose.
Truth be told, his situation should have sounded like a male fantasy come true. To his amazement, every woman who came to his room was young and beautiful. Maybe beautiful women had more money to burn? Maybe they were seeking a thrill? Whatever the case, he had no complaints about the women. But even he, a sex addict, was getting sick of the business.
It had been almost a week since he had started working for Godmother. He hadn't seen her since their first meeting. Scottie was his main chaperone. Or jailer.
Someone knocked on the door. Alan sat on his bed wearing a pair of athletic shorts. The door opened, and Scottie popped his head inside.
"Another client," Scottie said.
A leggy blonde wearing a gray wrap dress walked inside. Scottie stayed outside as he pulled the door closed.
In any other instance, Alan would have salivated at the thought of bedding the beautiful woman who approached him. But he had just finished with another woman an hour earlier.
"Hey, you're here again," Alan said. He recognized the woman. This was her third time. She was the only repeat client as far as he could remember. "You were…" Alan snapped his finger. "Vivian?"
The woman frowned. "Violet."
"Shit. I knew that. Hi, Viola. I mean, Violet. Welcome." Alan tried to fake a smile, but he was exhausted. The women were all a blur to him these days.
"You're tired?" Violet asked. "Is the schedule too hard?"
"Schedule? Oh, don't mind me. Business is great if that's what you're asking. And I'm always hard for a lovely lady like you." Alan demonstrated his readiness. He had great stamina, but he wasn't ready for a professional workload. He had asked Scottie for pills to help with that.
"Let's get this over with quickly," Violet said.
"Oh no, you have an hour. There's no need to watch the clock, though. Take your time." Alan didn't know what would happen if he failed to meet his end of the bargain with Godmother. He didn't want to find out. He stood up and helped Violet untie the back of her dress.
"You know," Alan said, "you're my first repeat client."
"Is that so?" Violet let the dress fall to the ground. "Could you?" She pointed at her bra strap.
Alan obliged and unclipped the bra. "I must really get you excited," Alan whispered as he nibbled on her ear.
Violet slid out of his arms. "There's no need for that. I'm not into the romance stuff. I just want, you know, a good load inside me. Can you be…professional this time? Like a plumber fixing the toilet."
"Okay, okay. You got it." Alan held up his hands. "One professional load coming up."
He took off his shorts while Violet removed her panties. Violet got on all fours on his bed, and Alan got into position behind her.
"So, do you want this nice and slow, or fast? Didn't we go the whole hour last time?" Alan asked.
"No, we finished in five minutes last time. I want to finish up quickly this time, too," Violet said. "I have work to do."
"Right, that must have been another woman." Alan winced. Shit. Talking about other women was never a good idea when fucking someone. He really needed a break. "So, what kind of work do you do?"
Violet sighed as he placed himself at her opening. Alan hoped it was a sigh of pleasure.
"I already told you last time. I'm a scientist."
Damn it. "So what do you science?"
"What?"
"What do scientists do? Like painters paint. Scientists science? I don't know much about them."
Violet groaned as Alan slipped into her tight opening. There, she was getting into it now.
"You idiot. Scientists do research. Not to be rude, but maybe just shut up and fuck me?"
Alan winced.
They continued in silence. The sound of slapping flesh and wet pumping filled the room. Alan pumped harder and harder, climaxed, and began pulling out.
"Wait." Violet reached behind him to keep him from withdrawing. She wiggled her hips and pumped herself on his cock several more times.
Damn, she wasn't trying to get pregnant or anything, was she? Scottie had reassured him that all the clients were clean, and that pregnancies wouldn't be an issue. Still, this girl seemed especially thirsty for his man juice. Like really thirsty.
"Okay." Violet crawled forward. He plopped out, still stiff from the pills he had taken.
Violet got off the bed and dressed herself. She avoided looking at Alan.
"Uh, hey. Did you have a good time? I want you to enjoy yourse
lf." Alan was a bit nervous. What if she complained about his service? "You want a free second shot?"
"You were quite satisfactory," Violet said, "and I don't need a second shot at the moment. Dosing and frequency are…nevermind."
Even if she was gorgeous, Violet was definitely a strange character. Alan couldn't quite place his finger on it. It was like she was…being a scientist? Weird. None of the other girls acted that way. Still, she was the only one who had seen him more than once. She must be enjoying it in her own strange way. Probably some fetish or kink.
"You still have fifty minutes left," Alan said.
"I'm busy," Violet said. She stopped putting on her shoes. "On second thought. Maybe you could answer a few questions for me."
"Sure. Are we playing twenty questions?" Alan laughed.
Violet gave him a withering look. "Do I look like the type that plays frivolous games?"
Geez. What was her deal, anyways? "Whatever you want. Ask away."
"Have you noticed anything unusual about yourself lately?" Violet asked.
"Um, like what?"
"Like do anything strange? Something you thought was impossible?"
"Besides sleeping with gorgeous women all day? No, I can't think of anything."
Violet studied him with a serious expression. "I see. What about before you arrived here? Think back maybe a week."
"Hm. That was a crazy time. You're right. I can't remember doing anything out of the ordinary. Other than fucking someone special." Alan's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute. How did you know I got here a week ago?"
Violet shrugged. "I'm a regular. I keep track of all the new guys in case someone catches my interest. Well, okay. I'll see you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"I've decided to pick up your, I mean, my schedule. Daily doses."
This girl was definitely a little off her rocker. Alan smiled, though. "You got it! I'll be here, waiting."
Violet left, leaving Alan alone with his drug-induced erection.
Alan rubbed his head. He needed a break. And why the hell did he always have a headache these days? He'd have to check with Scottie about getting some more ibuprofen.
* * *