sup with the devil

Chapter 9

Elora sat motionless, her mouth hanging open, her drink forgotten as the images on the screen jerked from one incredible scene to the other. She had waited like a nervous bride until Chester left for work, promising to be along after she made some calls. Now, watching the disc again, only on Chester's state of the art system made it seem totally different and Elora felt an unanticipated excitement welling in her chest.

Not only that, she was looking at scenes that she hadn't seen at the first viewing. Some were of the men she'd met at social functions with their wives and here they were, reduced to sex slaves in various costumes and situations. Then there was Chester Hargrave, in a flesh-coloured body suit, twisted slowly in the center of some kind of ring by fur-padded handcuffs anchored in the ceiling.

A young, shapely woman in a long blonde wig and stiletto boots strutted around his limp form, laying strokes across his buttocks and back from a long, flexible crop. There was no sound, but she could see his head jerk back with each switch of the crop and she finally realized that she'd been holding her breath and wheezed noisily, one hand pressed against her chest.

The sequence lasted at least thirty minutes and then it switched to what resembled a throne and Chester was manacled to the base, attending to the same young woman. Elora could see that she wore a mask over her eyes and nose, hiding her identity and the images seemed oddly jerky. All around the room other men were in similar positions and all the women seemed to be controlling them with lashes to their bare skin. She concluded that they must have been taken by someone using a phone to record the events and was trying not to let it show.

No wonder Chester was concerned. The strange shot of Chester and another man exchanging something in the background of a particularly steamy scene near the end of the disc puzzled her but she was so amazed by the rest of the content that it failed to hold her attention. How could she be involved with this man and not even suspect something as bizarre as what she was watching; the thought left her non-plussed.

Things with Chester were fine at the moment and so this was simply insurance for when he or she tired of the relationship... or something arose that required aggressive action. Elora smiled... aggressive action.... Chester would appreciate that. Not! She removed the disc and slipped it into the container, tapping it against her nails as she pondered where to best store her little policy. She would rent a mailbox under an alias; that would be in perfect keeping with her new partner. Elora smiled and began searching the phone book for mailbox rentals. She was now the new boss on the block.

******

Cresta pulled on her skirt and zipped up, adjusting the blouse at the waist. She did some quick pivots in front of the mirror and then stepped into her heels, picked up her purse and coat and left her apartment. Hatti Ambrose had called again and left instructions for their meeting, an act that cinched the fact that Chester hadn't managed to deter her in any way and there was nothing from William so now it was up to her to make the rules. She crossed the dirty cement of the parking garage and beeped the locks on her Buick sedan and a few moments later bounced out of the garage over the curb into traffic and off to Hatti's hotel.

Cresta knocked firmly on the door and tossed her mane of soft hair in preparation as she waited. The door opened and both women stopped and stared in surprise. Rita had only ever seen Cresta Ettinger in her club garb, which consisted of leather and lace and a small facemask. Cresta recognized Hatti only because her position required she know all the women working the club, intimately, but the short auburn hair and the big brown eyes behind the designer glasses made her pause to make sure. She gathered herself and moved into the room without invitation. Rita closed the door and leaned against it.

"I presume the hair and glasses mean Hatti doesn't live here any more."

"Sorry, I don't know anyone named Hatti." Rita played the game with a confident ease. "Do you have the money?"