Chapter One
"C'mon, babe. Let's get it on." The man leaned heavily
against Krissy. His words were slurred and his breath
stank of liquor. His left arm was draped across her shoulders and his left hand
groped clumsily for her breast. His right hand kept poking the keycard to his
room in the general direction of the slot without ever finding its target. He
was much too interested in sticking something else in another slot entirely to even notice.
"Don't be
silly!" Krissy giggled girlishly as she expertly
diverted his left hand with hers. She took his right hand by the thick, hairy
wrist. "Here, let me help you." He let her guide him. The card slid easily into
the slot and there was a click.
"See?" Krissy said brightly. "Now, when we get inside I'll help
you again, you big, clumsy man."
He laughed,
spraying more fumes of cheap bourbon into her face. At least he wasn't too
drunk to open the door once it was unlocked, but he was close to passing out. Krissy took most of his weight as they stumbled into his
suite, deftly pulling the keycard out with her manicured fingertips before she
kicked the door shut behind them.
It was dark
inside. The only light came from a blinking neon sign that was bright enough to
filter through the heavy curtains. The man made another attempt to grope Krissy's breast, and now she let him fall heavily to the
carpeted floor. He started laughing drunkenly and got up onto his hands and
knees. Krissy put her foot to his backside and shoved
as hard as she could. He fell forward onto his face and lay still. A moment
later, he started snoring.
Krissy let out a sigh of relief. He was a big guy, over six
feet tall, she guessed, going bald and going to fat. She'd been starting to worry
that the combination of drinks and drugs that she'd slipped into those drinks
wouldn't have the desired effect in time. Now she could be reasonably sure that
he'd sleep until sometime tomorrow afternoon. He'd be feeling pretty damned bad
when he woke up. She smiled and gave his leg another kick. He didn't move.
Good. Time to get to work. She pulled a pair of
surgical gloves out of her purse, pulled them on, and started going through his
pockets.
His wallet
yielded up a couple of hundred bucks in cash and two credit cards. She didn't
bother looking at his driver's license. She already knew what he looked like,
and he'd already told her his first name. She didn't care to know him any
better than she already did. She pocketed the cash and cards and stuffed the
wallet back into his hip pocket.
It took a lot
of effort to roll him over onto his back, but it was part of the job. She went
through his other pockets, turning up some loose change that she left where
she'd found it, another hundred bucks in twenties that he'd put in the inside
pocket of his suit jacket, and a nametag for a local convention. She let him
keep the nametag.
The next
thing to do was go through his luggage. That rarely turned up anything
valuable, although there were occasional nice little items - and this time was
no exception. She wasn't even that surprised when she found a pair of handcuffs
stashed away inside a sock. Had he been planning to use them on her, or have her use them on him? Well, it didn't matter now. She put his
luggage back in the disorder she'd found it and went back to him.
She didn't
really care for what came next, but it had worked for her pretty well so far,
so she might as well keep on doing it. She unbuckled his pants, unzipped them,
and shucked them down as far as she could. Then she pulled his boxers down too,
baring his hairy crotch. When he woke up, even with the terrible hangover and
headache he was sure to have, he'd probably think that he'd gotten lucky with
the cutie he'd picked up at the bar after all. That could buy her a little more
time. Now to muddy the waters, for if and when the police
investigated. She doubted that it would be a priority for them. Out-of-town drunks getting rolled wasn't as
attention-getting as bank robberies or carjackings,
but why take chances? Wiping the keycard came first.
She took a
baggie out of her big handbag. Inside it were some long brown hairs she'd
surreptitiously gathered at a beauty salon in a poorer part of the city. She dropped a couple of them on her mark and a few
more she scattered around the room. That done, she put the baggie back in her
handbag.
Getting the
long brown wig off of her head took a moment. She had to do it carefully or her
own shorter blonde hair would be disheveled enough for someone to notice. The
wig went into her bag, but not until after she'd pulled out a folded blouse. It
was a neutral beige color and a little bit too large for her. She put it on
over the halter-top that drew men's attention to her tits so that they didn't
pay all that much attention to her face. The guy on the floor probably didn't
even know what color her eyes were. She tucked the blouse into the waistband of
her tan skirt. Last of all, she took off the strappy heels she'd been wearing,
stuffed them into her handbag, pulled out the nice, comfortable running shoes
she'd stashed in there and slipped them on her feet. There. The transformation
was complete. Men might remember seeing a busty woman with long brown hair with
her mark, if anyone asked them, but none of them would connect that
woman with the shorter, less provocatively dressed blonde one who slipped
quietly out of the hotel some time later. It was extremely unlikely that anyone
would remember her handbag, either. She'd gotten it because it was a handy size
for her work, but it was a nondescript, inexpensive, mass-produced thing that
lots of other women carried.
She walked
out of the hotel without being noticed or challenged. Another job successfully done, another lecherous, middle-aged man who got no less
than what was coming to him. He hadn't even tried to hide that fact that he was
married by taking off his wedding ring before he'd started hitting on her.
She walked a
couple of blocks before hailing a cab. This part of the city was just starting
to go to seed, but it was still safe enough to walk in the evenings. After
midnight, though, nobody in their right mind would be outside in this locale.
She had the taxi drop her off a block away from the local tavern she was headed
for, at a spot where there were several other places she could go to. Once the
taxi had crawled away out of sight in the late traffic, she let herself breathe
a sigh of relief before heading to the Moonlight Tavern. This part of the city
was mixed commercial and lower-income residential, and there were still plenty
of people outside enjoying the early Fall evening. Krissy ignored them, as they ignored her, and went into the
bar. It was dimly lit inside, smelling of beer and liquor. She walked past the
half-dozen patrons seated at the bar and straight to the back of the room.
There were some booths there, hard, bare wooden benches facing each other
across hard, bare, battered dark wooden tables. She went to one and slid onto
the bench across from Tito. Tito was always here. Maybe he owned the place, but
it didn't matter to her one way or the other.
"Hey, girl,"
he looked up and smiled as he recognized her. "You got somethin'
for me?" He was anywhere between forty and sixty, the light brown skin on his
face, deeply creased and scarred just above his left eye. His pencil mustache
always annoyed her, but she'd learned to ignore it, just as she'd learned to
ignore the three gold teeth that showed when he smiled.
"A couple of
cards," she replied. "You want them now?"
"Depends,"
Tito shrugged. "How long they good for?"
"Probably
until noon tomorrow," Krissy answered. "Maybe a little longer."
"Eh," Tito
shrugged again. "Yeah, slip 'em over. I'll see what I
can get with 'em. Ten percent still good for you?"
"Ten percent
of the gross," Krissy said. "You shorted me last
time." She pulled the credit cards out of her handbag and passed them to Tito
under the table. As always, Tito held her hand for a moment before he took the
cards and let go.
"Told you
that was a misunderstanding by one of my guys," Tito
grinned. "He won't be doin' that again."
"And you
still owe me," Krissy said as she leaned back,
unsmiling.
"Aw, babe,
don't be like that," Tito chuckled. "I swear, I make
it all up to you with the next payday. Deal?"
"Deal," Krissy replied after a moment. "And you'd better keep your
word. There are other guys I could deal with."
"But we make
such good business partners," Tito chuckled. He lifted his tiny espresso cup
and sipped from it.
"We're not
partners," Krissy corrected him. She started to go.
"Hey, hey, hey, babe, why the hurry?" Tito reached out but
didn't quite touch her. "Stay a minute. Have a drink. Compliments
of the house."
"Why?" Krissy demanded, but she sat back down.
"I like you,"
Tito smiled. "You know, you could make a lot more by working for me, especially
with that cute girl-next-door face and that hot little body of yours. Don't you
get tired of rollin' drunks in cheap hotels?"
"Not interested," Krissy
smiled back nastily. "You aren't going to whore me out. And you know I like girls
anyway. So forget it."
"Can't blame
me for tryin'," Tito shrugged as she got up again.
"Come see me in a couple days. I'll have your money."
"You'd
better," Krissy called back over her shoulder as she
walked away.
Once outside
of the bar she turned right and kept walking. It always bothered her when Tito
gave her that greasy smile and that tired old pitch about going to work for
him. She had no doubts that she could make a lot more money that way, but the
thought of being one of his call girls and whoring herself out to men turned
her stomach. Men, with their hairy bodies and flabby bellies and bad breath and
groping hands...ugh! It was getting a little tiresome occasionally
'rolling drunks in cheap hotels', even if those hotels were not really all that
cheap, just three-star instead of five-star, but it more than paid the bills
and at least she could pick and choose her marks and be the one in control. It
was far more lucrative to pick her targets at more upscale locales, but those
places had too many security cameras that worked, as well as actual security
personnel. It took a lot of work and planning to get in and out of one of
those, but the rewards, and the thrill, were a lot greater. In between those
jobs she kept hitting low-profile targets in low-profile places. She ought to
be able to keep this up for years. And by the time she was getting too old to
play the game anymore, she should have more than enough saved up to buy that
little place out West that she'd been thinking of, and live quite comfortably
into her old age. But that day was a long time away, and in the meantime she
enjoyed planning her moves, laying her traps and rolling her marks.
Anyway, her
business was done, and she had the rest of the night to herself. She felt like
celebrating, but Linda's shift at the hospital wouldn't be over for hours, and
she would get back to her apartment tired and cranky, so there was no point in
calling her. That relationship was coming to an end anyway. Krissy
considered her other possibilities. She always had some. The city drew people
from all over, many of them young and naïve. The more naïve they were, the more
desperate they became after a while. There were a number of places that existed
to give those desperate people a meal and a place to sleep. Krissy
made a point of donating to a couple of those shelters from time to time so
that she was actually welcomed if she happened to drop in. There was one girl
she knew of at one of those shelters: Amy. Amy was fresh off the farm, and of
legal age, if barely. Krissy had been feeling her out
for a couple of weeks now, and it was time to make her move. There was a small
park just across the street from the shelter, and Amy often hung out there. Krissy turned her steps in that direction. She always felt
like celebrating after one of her jobs, and the prospect of doing that with a
new girl excited her.
Amy was
there, sitting alone on a park bench. She smiled when she saw Krissy coming towards her.
"Hey, good to see you!" Amy slid a little to one side,
inviting Krissy to sit next to her. Krissy accepted the invitation.
"Hi," Krissy smiled at the younger girl. "You had your supper
yet?"
"No," Amy
shook her head. She was wearing her tawny brown hair in a ponytail tonight, and
it swayed back and forth appealingly. "It's kinda
crowded tonight."
"Well, how
about coming with me?" Krissy suggested. "My treat."
Amy laughed
nervously. "I'm not really dressed for it," she said. Krissy
took in the worn jeans, battered sneakers and faded flannel shirt.
"Nonsense,"
she said. "You look fine."
"But...if I get
back too late there won't be a bed for me," Amy said.
Krissy leaned closer, looking into Amy's big brown eyes.
"My place isn't crowded," she said, her voice low and purring. "I'll put you up
for the night."
Amy looked at
her for a long, long moment. Krissy could see the
confusion in her eyes, the uncertainty, the curiosity, even a little bit of
fear. She leaned a bit closer still and put her hand on Amy's.
"Come on,"
she smiled. "I won't make you do anything you don't want to do."
Amy looked
over at the shelter and then back at Krissy. This was
the moment of truth. As much as she wanted Amy to come with her and spend the
night, Krissy knew better than to push too hard.
"Well," Amy
swallowed and licked her lips. She didn't pull her hand away. "I guess," she
said at last.
"Well, then,"
Krissy's smile softened. "Let's go. What would you
like for supper? I'm in the mood for some Chinese myself." She let go of Amy's
hand and stood up.
"That sounds
good," Amy nodded nervously. She also stood. She was a couple of inches taller
than Krissy, slender where Krissy
was voluptuous. Krissy was already imagining what the
younger girl looked like naked. Inwardly, she was celebrating. From this point
on, unless she screwed it up somehow, Amy's seduction was assured.