They got Lollipop outside the club, just drove over and picked her like a pretty
little flower.  It was Three AM on Sunday, and the place was just shutting down.  The club
was called Prestige, one of those places that cater to young beauties with more money than
taste; the cover cost the equivalent of a week’s wages for most people, but the
neighborhood was strictly ghetto, nowhere you’d want to hang around even at high noon. 
Lollipop and her escort were among the very last partiers out and the door was soundly
locked behind them.  Click.  
      “So where you taking me next, Brad?”  Lollipop simpered the words, licking her
cherry-red lips and weaving just a bit on her little high-heeled feet.  99% of that shit
was an act; Lollipop was a little drunk, but not as bad-off as the guy beside her.  She
was always careful about her intake when she went out.  Get too fucked up and you miss
opportunities.  Lollipop was very big on opportunities, and she sensed that she hadn’t
come close to draining Brad-boy of his potential.  He was a young stockbroker who had
missed out on partying most of his life; he’d just gotten divorced from a hottie who had
gotten sick of being married to a workaholic; he was, in other words, ripe pickings for
little Lolli.
      Lollipop—Lori Perkins, to her particular friends—was twenty-two, a petite piece of
girl-candy with an apple-round ass and plump little tits, along with a pair of sweet legs
to walk them around on.  She favored flashy jewelry and tight clothes; the more expensive
the better, to show the boys what they could aspire to if they were free enough with their
money.  Her hair was a buttery yellow, her soft skin just a shade darker than looked
natural.  She looked like a dirty dream, something so cute and wide-eyed you just
naturally started wondering what her pussy would feel like if you could get a hand under
that short-as-hell skirt.  Except that 99 out of a hundred guys never did and never
would.
      “I wanna go out dancin’ some more,” Lollipop pouted.  What she really wanted was to
unload the coke she had just bought in the ladies’ room from her good friend Gina.  She
knew the clubs uptown would still be open and there was always some idiot from the burbs
willing to hand her more money than the coke was worth, just to have an excuse to hang out
with her. Combined with the bucks she had scammed from Brad that night, that money would
make her a nice little windfall.
      “Come on, Braddy,” she whispered, caressing his arm and whispering in his ear.  “Be
nice to Lolli.  She’ll let you lick her…and then she’ll lick you.  Suck your cock till the
sun comes up, yes she will…I’ll do that thing you like, get your balls all wet with my
spit and then suck it off…mmmn.”  It was just her standard line, but…God, she loved
playing the slut!  It got her more than a little hot and bothered, though she had no
intention of letting Brad actually fuck her.  He was nice, but not really her type…and
besides, there was still more money to scam out of him.
      Right now, though, Brad-boy wasn’t thinking about Lollipop’s pussy; he was staring
at a group of shadows that had detached themselves from the darkness of the alley and were
moving closer to them.  
      “Look at this,” one of the shadows leered.  “Couple of young lovers out for a good
time.”
      “Sure,” the second shadow said.  By now they were very close, practically on top of
the cowering Brad.  There were three of them: big guys in sharp suits, guys with ugly
faces like fistfuls of knuckles.  Wiseguys who were good at trouble.
      “Sure, Mr. Bigshot’s on a date,” the second guy went on.  “Showing his young lady
the sights of the big city.  Tell you what, Bigshot, why don’t you go home and get some
sleep?  Tomorrow’s another day, yeah?  Bet you’d like to live to see it.”  
      Brad wasn’t that bright, but he wasn’t that stupid, either.  He turned his ass
around and ran like hell, not looking back at Lollipop even once.  In about two seconds it
was like he hadn’t even been there.  Even the echoes of his running feet had faded.
      Lollipop felt fear creeping up her spine, but she wasn’t ready to panic yet.  There
was even a little tingle of excitement starting up in her panties.  She had been
manipulating men for most of her life, after all.  
      “Hey guys,” she said, letting enough of a tremble come into her voice to suggest
fear, to say, I’m just a poor little helpless thing, you can take anything you want from
me.  “What’s up?  Guess my date split; you boys wanna go party?”
      “Sure, baby.  Sure we do.  Let’s party.”  The third guy stepped up and lifted his
hand.  A second later it connected with Lollipop’s cheek with a sharp crack, hard enough
to send her reeling.  Pain of any kind was strange to Lolli; she wasn’t used to anything
but caresses and pampering.  The pain was accompanied by something else she wasn’t really
used to: the feather-light caress of real fear.
      “Oh God,” she groaned, feeling her jaw.   “Oh Jesus, I’m bleeding.  You
sonofabitch, you made me bleed!”
      “That ain’t all we’re gonna make you do,” the second guy said.  He was older than
the others and his voice was soft and menacing.  “Come on, baby, I thought you wanted to
party.  C’mere…”
      He reached for her, laughing as Lollipop squealed and beat at his hands.  He
feinted at her, little jabs like pretend-punches.  All three of the guys roared as she
wailed and hid her face behind her purse.  The comedy-act provided just cover for Lolli to
kick her heels off, while at the same time digging a tiny spritzer of mace out of the
pocket of her slutty rhinestone-spangled denim jacket.  Most of the spray went wide of its
target, but the guy wasn’t expecting it; he howled and clawed at his eyes as Lollipop took
off running down the alley.
      She had just gotten a pedicure that afternoon, and her tender bare feet were soon
bruised and cut up from the stones and assorted garbage of the alley.  Lolli winced
against the sharp pain of something cutting into her sole, praying she didn’t run over a
broken bottle.  She was praying, too, that she ran into a cop, or even just a dark corner
she could hide in until her pursuers gave up the chase.  She wasn’t used to running; her
occasional exercise sessions had done nothing to prepare her for something like this.  All
too soon she had a stitch in her side and her breath was ragged.  And she could hear the
men directly behind her, laughing and catcalling.  
      A moment later she could see the end of the alley, and idling there on the next
street, a black limousine with glowing headlights.  Oh thank god, she thought.  She was
aching and nauseous with exertion and fear, terrified her body was going to rebel and make
her puke.  If that happened she’d get caught in seconds.  But the limo would be her
salvation; some fat-ass CEO out for a wild night, or, better yet, a minor celebrity with a
nice big body-guard to protect her.  If she could just reach it in time…
      Please God; I’ll be a good girl from now on.  I really will, I’ll go to church and
everything.
      Miraculously, as she put on a final burst of speed, she sensed that the guys behind
her had given up the chase.  Lollipop no longer heard them running or laughing behind her.
Still, she wasn’t about to stop running.  The limo was getting closer and closer.  She
could hear its engine humming, ready to take her away…
      Lolli reached the car and pounded with both fists on the black opaque windows. 
“Hey!  Hey, please!  I’m in trouble!  Let me in, please!”  They’d let her in, no problem,
once they got a load of how hot she was.  She might end up having to suck some dick for
this little favor, or even give up a little pussy, but shit, it’d be so worth it.  In two
seconds she’d be sipping champagne and resting her poor hurting tootsies as she sat back
and watched the city drift by the windows.
      One of the passenger doors clicked and drifted open.  Thank Christ; it’s about
fucking time already.  Lollipop scrambled inside, into a wide, darkened space that was all
plush upholstery and the sweet smell of cigars.  Nice.  Hell, she’d had apartments that
were smaller than this.  She got on one of the seats, taking note of the two men already
inside.  One was an older guy with slicked back hair and a pencil-thin mustache, the other
was roughly her own age and bore a distinct resemblance to the older gent.  He looked kind
of familiar, but Lollipop shrugged that off; she’d known a lot of guys, they were bound to
kind of run together after awhile.  Both men were richly-dressed, in tailored suits with
silk ties and actual cufflinks.  Both looked handsome, though it was Lollipop’s opinion
that Junior would have looked better if his hair hadn’t been so thin.  The two of them sat
looking at her with strange, impassive expressions.
      Whatever, it was time to make with the gratitude.  “Thank you, oh God, thank you! 
These guys…they were chasing me?  Like, I don’t even know them; I think they were like on
something.  If I hadn’t seen your car I would’ve been dead…is that like a little bar?  Do
you think I could have a drink, ‘cause I could sure use one…”
      The older guy looked at Junior?  “Is that her?” he asked, nodding briefly at the
younger man.
      “Yeah,” Junior said, not deigning to so much as glance at Lolli.  “That’s her,
alright.  The little bitch.”
      “Huh?  What do you mean?  What’s he mean, huh?  Are you gonna let your son or
whoever talk to a lady that way…?”