I got an idea of how connected Bete’s organization was on Sunday morning when Curly took me to the DMV. The place was locked down, of course, but a short wide woman with a Filipino accent met us at the locked glass door. Curly pulled a fat envelope from his breast pocket. She opened the door, grabbed the packet, and motioned us in. 

Despite the obvious bribe, the woman ran me through the driver’s test and the eye chart before she took my photo with the official DMV camera. Apparently, even with a bribe, the DMV has standards. Anyway, I was walk back to the car holding a legitimate California motor vehicle license still warm from the press.

“Alanna R. Morgan,” I read. “I have a nom de guerre… and she can drink!”

“Alanna was born five years before you and died about about the same time. We resurrected her…”

“Now she has my face and lives in San Francisco...”, the address looked like something in North Beach.

“She works only for us. She vanishes otherwise,” he said, serious now.

“So Alanna doesn’t buy alcohol for her friends,” I nodded. I handed him the card. “Here. Yoga pants. No pockets.”

Curly accepted the card from me with a wink. We drove to a university medical building in SOMA. Alanna had an appointment for a full physical, STD screening, and shots for birth control, HPV, and… other things.

“What’s this one for?” I asked when she pulled out yet another vial.

“This is the reason my organization works with yours,” the doctor said. She was a young brunette, maybe thirty, cute but with a prominent nose which made her look nerdier than she already was. She explain without waiting for me to ask. “We’re in the delivery design phase of an experimental new… viral prophylactic.”  

She said it like she’d thought up the phrase extemporaneously. 

“Experimental?,” I asked. What the fuck had I gotten myself into?

“Yeah, people in your line of work are ideal subjects.” She put a hand on my shoulder, “don’t worry. It’s a stronger version of PrEP and in very late stage testing, soon to be approved. We’re mostly testing the delivery system. I’ve been on it for six months, no side effects and it is effective, I can promise you won’t catch any viral STDs.”

She jabbed and emptied the syringe into my arm while I was still pondering a world without STDs. She picked up something that looked like a rubber stamp cartridge, flipped my wrist over, and stamped me hard. It hurt worse than laser hair removal, “Ouch!” 

“See this?” she asked, ignoring my pain completely. There was a tiny angry red ‘plus’ on my wrist. “Think of it as a temporary tattoo. It gets absorbed as the viral prophylactic weakens. Tomorrow it’ll be light brown. In three months it’ll suddenly start to fade away. Make sure you stop working visit me before then.”

--

“The doc needs to work on her bedside manner,” I said, once we were back in the car. “I didn’t ask for that vaccine, the tattoo thing hurt, and she didn’t give a damn.”

As usual, Curly said nothing. Instead he pulled back his left cuff, there were two crosses, one nearly faded away and the other, clearly brown. I made a note to check the wrist of the rest of Bete’s staff.

--

Just after noon I found Jinny down in the gym punching a big bag. She asked if I would like to spar with her. I didn’t know how. She seemed to get a thrill out of teaching a nude student basic stances and throws. After an hour we both needed a shower. She pulled me under the hot water to spar in an altogether different style. Jinny wasn’t interested in using me, she wanted me to have as much fun as possible.

As the cook got dressed I checked her wrists for the mark. She had none. But I noticed her put a holstered pistol down the front of her pants. It seemed everyone in the house was armed except me.

--

I spent the afternoon browsing among the thousands of books of all types in Bete’s library. Finally, I settled on Gone Girl then sprawled out on a couch to read the book which amplified the effect of the smaller butt plug working it’s lesser magic on my libido.  

“How’s the weekend been?”

I jumped a bit at John’s voice so close to me. He walked into my view next to the couch, towering over me.

“Startling, and a bit scarey,” I said, lamely. I put the book down but remained supine with one knee up against the backrest and the other splayed out over the edge of the couch. Everything usually covered by clothes lay immodestly open before him.

“I scared you?” he asked.

“You did actually, on Friday.

“And obviously I’m scaring you now,” he gestured ironically at my body, underlining my complete lack of concern.

“Yeah,” I snorted, “you’re a real terror compared to what I’m used to.” 

“I’m can be a terror when I need to be,” he said, trying to sound ominous. I hadn’t thought of Harold since he ran off, tail twixt his scrawny legs. Bete had rules and principle, I already knew. I had no worried from him, unlike my former ‘father’. “You’re taking to this like a duck to water from what I’ve heard.”

“Heard?” I asked, coyly.

“The cleaning staff worked extra hard in the gym,” said John nodded. “I instructed security to clean up after themselves from now on.”

“You left me high and dry last night, John. Don’t blame me if I make a mess getting ‘even’,” I grinned, looking up at the big man. He didn’t seem to have anything else to say, but stayed planted to the spot, looking back down at me. We locked eyes. His face betrayed no hint of his thoughts. My thoughts were all about how wet I was. How easy it would be for his cock to slide into my empty pussy, and what that would feel like? Especially with the chrome plug filling my sensitive ass.

“Everyone’s had a go at me except you and Curly. I think he likes to be teased,” I said. “But yo-”

“Teasing is not my thing,” he said. “I just wouldn’t be able to control it, if I started. And if it were allowed, you’d be happy with a fat cock in your pussy.”

I nodded. I reached down with one hand to stroke myself and put the other on his thigh, scratching with long nails. John didn’t move. I kept at it, and increased my pace. I really wanted to put his cock in me, anywhere, but if he wasn’t asking me I wasn’t begging. I tried being sexual instead, reaching under with the other hand to push and pull on the plug’s rhinestone stopper.

“I look funny without the fur, but I feel so… mmm… slippery and new.”

Bete smiled but didn’t take the bait.

“Uh, I love the feeling in my ass,” I moaned, opening my mouth. I licked my lips and moaned again. “Mmhh, I’m close.”

I closed my eyes and opened them again, John remained a statue. Our eyes locked again and a jolt of pleasure ran down my spine. “Oh, mmh.”

I came. John’s lips curled at the corners. I closed my eyes and rode the swelling wave of my orgasm up and then back down to Earth. I let the tension out, muscles relaxing, I sighed, opening my eyes.

“Imagine how good it would feel to ram my tight wet pussy,” I teased.

“Ha. You’re a natural, Bell,” he said. “You’re a wonderful whore.”

“Slut. Until my name’s on the title,” I said. I wanted that house. Until then I was just a trainee.

--

Bete left me alone, and frustratingly un-fucked for a second time. At around seven, I went downstairs to take it out my frustrations on the security team. I knew none of them but I banged the four men anyway, using them, this time. They didn’t stand a chance.

I sputtered and squealed when one guy walked up and splattered my face as I was sucking on his friend. I was just surprised by it, not horrified like the first time, but they laughed and seemed to enjoy my reaction. I made a point of sputtering and dodging again when the next guy shot cum at my face. They loved spraying me more if I pretended to hate it, which made it that much easier to get them off.

When I’d worn them out, I got up to look at myself in the wall mirror. Cum covered me, even in my hair. Like last time, I walked up to my room, glazed in seminal glory, to clean up. 

This time Curly caught sight of me all covered in spit and cum in the hallway. I stopped, a deer in the headlights, worried what he would think. He smiled indulgently at my mess. 

“Good night, Bell,” he said as he walked past me. The man refused to judge me, or fuck me.

“Curly, are you ever...”

“Good night, Bell,” he repeated, interrupting me. 

“Good night,” I shrugged. Maybe later. Only sluts think like that.

Upstairs, I found my closets open and full of my old clothes. Someone, probably Curly, brought my entire wardrobe from home. My backpack, too. After a shower, I sat down to do schoolwork. I needed good grades if I wanted to go to college.

Back in Ariel’s Room
“Wow, you had to go to school after all that?” whispered Ariel.

“Yeah,” Bell yawned. “Um, Ariel, can I tell the story later?”

“Just finish it, Bell. All in a go,” insisted Ariel. “Jasmine and I are really enjoying your adventures and I want to hear about the auction.”

Jasmine murmured agreement, sleepily.

Bell grumbled, but continued her story.

(to be continued in part 8)