Caught in the Crossfire Ch. 07

Sometime during the week, Jack called Brittany, changing their plans. Instead of next Monday, they were to meet at the same motel that coming Saturday, at eight o'clock that evening. She wasn't to rent a room, but to pull around back and wait for him in her car.

That Saturday evening, she waited as directed, and when Jack finally showed, he demanded her keys, saying he would drive.

While driving out of the hotel parking lot, he asked, "What did you tell Santos?"

"I told him I was going to one of those all day spas, the kind where you stay over. Yoga, facials, and steam baths all day and night long. You should have seen his eyes light up when I told him I wouldn't be home until tomorrow. He didn't even ask the name of spa or where it's located. I bet he's out cruising for whores as we speak."

Jack took it easy on the city streets.

After about fifteen minutes of driving, it looked like they were heading into the warehouse district. She finally asked, "Where are we going?"

Jack didn't answer directly, asking instead, "You have the money?"

Brittany was flummoxed, "I thought you agreed you'd wait until I got a job."

"I said, 'I'd see.' Did you get a job?"

"No," she answered, dejected, "But I'm trying."

Jack smiled at her, and said, sarcastically, "Hard to believe no one wants to pay you three grand a week typing memos and making coffee."

After his rebuke, both fell into a deep silence. It was another five minutes before Jack pulled up in front of a large warehouse. Brittany saw another fifteen to twenty cars of various makes, models, and conditions, parked around the front entrance.

"What's this place?" she asked, nervously.

Jack didn't answer. Keeping her keys, he held the car door open for her, while saying, "Follow me."

He led Brittany through a large warehouse. Although it was gloomy and dark, with only an occasional overhead bulb to illuminate the pathway, she could see numerous rows of shelving stacked with boxes. As they continued deeper into the structure, brighter lights became apparent ahead of her, and she began to hear the sounds of muffled talking and laughter.

When they reached their destination, Brittany saw a large bed in the middle of the floor. Five or six, bright halogen lamps surrounded the bed, bathing it in stark, white light. There were about fifteen people milling around. One of them was adjusting a camera set up on tripod on one side of the bed. Another person was carrying a portable camera unit. The rest of the gathering were talking amongst themselves and smoking. There was one other woman besides Brittany. She was sitting off by herself, away from the others, smoking a cigarette. Dressed in short shorts, and wearing a flimsy tube top, she had her arms wrapped tightly about her and against the cool dampness of the building.

Brittany pulled on Jack's arm, "What is all this?"

"You asked how you could earn more money. Well, this is one way. Hush now."

Just then, Brittany heard the other woman yell, "Hey Munch, can I get under the fucking lights now? It's fucking cold in here."

From somewhere within the crowd of loiterers, she heard a man's clear voice above the loud murmurings of the crowd, "Not yet baby, we still have some prep work to do, and I don't want you getting in the way."

"Well hurry the fuck up, will you. My tits are turning blue."

"Munch," Jack called over to the crowd, "Get your dwarf ass over here."

From behind the crowd, a diminutive man stepped out wearing a large smile. He was a little taller than Brittany, so technically, he wasn't really a dwarf; however, he had played one in fetish movies in his younger days. Now, he mostly produced low-budget porn. His real name was Raoul Price, but most people knew him as the Munchkin, or Munch for short—pun intended.

Munch and Jack shook hands, while Munch joked, "Jack, about time you got here. You still having problems with cock breath?"

Jack responded, sarcastically, "Fuck you, Munch, and watch the language. There's a lady present."

Munch turned to Brittany, giving her the once over with a deep set of bedroom eyes. When he stuck out his hand at her as a welcome, Brittany took it hesitantly, fearing he might be contagious.

After they shook hands, he said with a wink, "Well, yes you do, Jack. You know a very pretty lady, and by the size of her, she's just my type."

Jack quipped, "I figured you could use a break from standing on stepladders in order to eat out your bitches." Jack shifted away from the jovial for a moment, as his voice became more serious, "Speaking of type, I'm sorry about what happened to Ashante."

Munch suddenly looked dejected. His eyes watered, as he said, "Yeah, it hit everyone hard. To die so young is one thing, but to be tossed out like trash...the fucker." He paused for a moment to wipe his eyes and put on a brave smile before finishing, "I could never keep her off the streets, Jack. No matter how much work I gave her, or how much I paid her, she kept selling tail. I suspect it's what got her killed in the end. Is it true that that Wilson asshole did it? I mean, I knew the guy. He didn't seem the type that could do murder. Something just doesn't seem kosher about the whole fucking thing."

Hearing Jack and Munch talking about Ashante and Kellen reaffirmed Jack's truthful telling of the story in her mind. If she harbored any lingering doubts about what Jack had said concerning Santos' direct involvement in the prostitute's death, they vanished upon seeing Munch's reaction.

Jack shook his head and looked over at Brittany before answering, "I don't know, Munch. Kellen seemed clean of murder as far as I was concerned, but Ashante wasn't my case. So who knows?" Then, after patting Munch on the back in a consoling manner, he slipped back into business mode. Pointing over at the group of men who were still loitering about and smoking, he asked Munch, "Is that them?"

"Yep, and all willing and able. I can vouch for them, too, no druggies, nut jobs, or hard cases. Just good guys."

"Are they clean?"

"All of them."

Looking at him sideways, Jack said, "You don't mind if I don't take your word for it. Let me see their records."

"Always the cautious one, aren't you Jack," Munch commented with exasperation.

"When it comes to my girl, you better believe it. And tell them to come over here while you're at it. I want a closer look."

Munch yelled to one of the cameramen, "Hey Phil, bring my briefcase, and tell the guys to come over here."

There were about ten guys in the group, all shapes and sizes, and various races. As they stood around waiting for orders, Jack took a hard look at each of them, seeing if he recognized any from his days as a cop.

Munch handed Jack a stack of papers from his briefcase. As Jack leafed through each in turn, Brittany noticed they were official medical records.

He seemed satisfied with what he was reading, until he came to one report. Looking back over the group, he said to a short, Hispanic-looking guy, "Is this you, Hector Chavez?" When Hector nodded, Jack continued, "Says here you've just been treated for Chlamydia."

Upon hearing the news, a couple of the other guys started grumbling, and the de facto leader of the group suddenly spouted off, "What the fuck Munch, I'm not sticking my dick into no ho that just fucked some drip dick!"

Hector got defensive, "It was a month ago. I've been cleared, man."

Jack ignored Hector, and turning toward Munch, reiterated everyone's sentiment, "Yeah, what the fuck, Munch. What are you trying to do? You know my conditions."

Munch, worried that a mutiny was about to break out, and said defensively, "Come on, Jack, he's got a clean bill of health. Besides, they all wear rubbers."

"Not all the time, or did they start wearing rubbers when they're getting their johnsons sucked?"

Caught in an obvious lie, Munch tried to backtrack, "Okay, okay, if it will make you happy I'll just have him fuck her with a rubber on." Munch was going to argue his point further, but decided against it, seeing the stony look Jack was giving him. Finally, he said to Hector, "All right, Hector. I can't use you today. Take a hike."

As Hector walked away mumbling expletives in Spanish, Munch commented with real disappointment, "Too bad, Jack, the boy had a cock that could choke a horse."

"Yeah? And that's all it's good for," Jack replied, sarcastically. Turning to the remaining group, Jack said with authority, "What about the rest of you? You all clean? Tell me the truth, or, I swear, there will be fuck-all hell to pay later."

"Come on, Jack. You've their records. They're all clean," Munch complained.

"Shut up dwarf!" Jack said with real anger, pissed that Munch tried to sneak one past him. "I want to hear it from them directly." Looking back hard at the others, he barked, "Well?"

Jack looked them over, one by one, as each shook their head. A couple were going to mention Jack's asshole behavior toward them, but decided against it when they saw 'the stare.'

After a long moment, Jack seemed satisfied.

Munch smiled at the conclusion of a successful interrogation, and then began asking some pointed questions of his own, "See, I told you. Clean. Now, what about your little cupcake, she clean?"

"You know she is."

"Who is she?"

"None of your business."

"What's she into?"

"Nothing too exotic. Just keep her away from S and M, and no potty play."

"You know I don't deal in that kinda' crap. Crap, get it? Ha, I made a funny. She on the pill?"

"Of course! What do you think she is, stupid?"

"Hey, don't tell me my business, Jack. You wouldn't believe the number of stupid sluts who come in here saying they're on the pill, and they're not or they forget to take it, and end up getting knocked up. Fuck, half my profits go to paying for their abortions."

Munch was exaggerating, of course, but that was Munch. Used to Munch's embellishments, Jack responded in cop fashion, "I thought you said they all wear rubbers."

"Rubbers break, Jack."

"No shit? Which is why we told Hector to hit the fucking bricks in the first place. Now shut the fuck up about it. She's good to go."

At first, Brittany had been listening to the whole melee between Jack and Munch with astonishment. She still couldn't figure out Jack's third eye. Even though there were a couple of other Hispanic looking guys in the group, he was able to correctly pick out Hector without asking any further questions. Her astonishment quickly turned to ire, however, insulted by what Jack obviously had in mind for her, and that they continued talking about her as if she wasn't present.

She finally spoke up, interrupting their conversation, "Excuse me, but the 'cupcake' needs to talk to Jack."

Pulling him out of earshot, she said in a harsh whisper, "I can't believe you. I'm not doing this."

"Are we going to go through this shit again? You said you needed a way to get me my money and keep some for yourself."

"Yeah, but not like this. It's bad enough you whoring me out..."

Jack cut her off, "Look, he's going to pay you ten grand..."

"Ten!" she broke in, astonished.

"That's right. Ten thousand for about two, maybe three, hours work. Now, let me make this clear, he's paying you this much only because he owes me big favors and he's heavy into the amateur shit. So don't expect a big payoff like this every time. I'll keep the three you owe me, and you take the rest." He saw her hesitation, and reminded her, "Hey, like every other time we've discussed these things, you don't have to do this, but Monday is in less than two days. Are you going to have my three grand by then?"

"No," she whined as her eyes started to water, "But lights...cameras...I know what's going on. What good will it do me if someone I know sees this? My husband has a bunch of degenerate, asshole friends. One of them is bound to see this."

"You have a point." Then turning back to the group of men, Jack said loudly, "Hey Munch, come over here for a minute."

Munch ambled over on his short legs while checking his watch, "What's the problem now, Jack, we don't have all evening."

"You got some kind of get-up you can put her in, so she'll be incognito like?"

"Sure, I got a few blonde wigs. One of them is bound to fit. I also have a nice pair of wrap-around sunglasses. It will cover up the eyes and the upper part of the face. The way we shoot this stuff, even her mother wouldn't recognize her." Munch finished in a whisper and a wink to Brittany, "The added bonus with the glasses is they protect the eyes from the cum-shots."

Jack looked down at Brittany, "Good enough?"

She had visions of knocking him down, sitting on his chest so that she could slap him senseless, all while screaming into his face:Is this good enough for you! Asshole! Instead, she just heard herself weakly answer, "Wow, I won't get cum in my eyes. Big deal."

"Good," Munch said, happily. Then, taking her by the arm so she wouldn't have a chance to think any more about it, he escorted her to the others, saying, "Here, let's go over and introduce you to the guys. You're going to love them, no druggies, nut jobs, or hard cases. All good guys who know how to treat a lady right." As they approached the group of men, Munch continued, "Guys, this is...uh..."

"Candy," Brittany whispered into his ear.

He smiled at her, saying sarcastically, "Candy, huh? Well that's original. Jack come up with that? Guys, meet Candy."

While Brittany was occupied with making acquaintances, Jack pulled Munch to the side, "Like I said over the phone, this is her first time, so go easy on her. Why don't you let her watch at first, then ease her in."

"Sure buddy. We always go easy on the newbies." Then he shouted over his shoulder, "Hey Kim, honey, get your skinny ass over here."

Kim, the woman Brittany saw wearing the short shorts and tube top, came bouncing over. She still had her arms wrapped around her from the cold, as she said, "Are we fucking ready yet? I swear my cunt's turned into a block of ice."

"In a minute, honey," Munch answered, "I want you to meet Candy. You two will be working together."

Kim said brightly, as she waved a hand as greeting, "Well hey. You're new."

Munch answered, "That's right, honey, very new. Why don't you take Candy over to where you were sitting and impart some of your vast wisdom on her. Make her feel at home. Oh, find a wig that will fit her, and get her a pair of those sunglasses."

Just as Kim led Brittany away, Jack spoke up, "This is where we part company for a while...uh...Candy."

Brittany turned around quickly, and said with a hint of panic, "What, you're leaving me?"

"I've some things I need to do. I'll be back to get you in a couple of hours. You're in good hands."

She watched Jack disappear into the darkness of the warehouse, and was about to run after him when Kim put an arm around her, "Come on, let's find you a wig."

Kim sat Brittany in a chair, and brought over some wigs. Kneeling in front of Brittany, Kim placed one wig after the other on her head. For each wig, Kim would sit back on her heels and eye Brittany's face, seeing if it truly fit her head, and if so, how she looked with it on. After a few failed attempts, Kim said, amused, "This reminds me of when I was a kid playing with my Barbies. Did anyone ever tell you, you have the prettiest green eyes?"

"Yeah, the guy who just left me here...in a way. Do you know him?"

"Who, Jack? Yeah, I've seen him around. He seems nice enough. I think he's hot, which is too bad since he doesn't try anything with us. Unlike the other hangers-on, he doesn't taste the wares."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, a lot of Munch's friends and backers like to hang out so that they can get free pussy or a blowjob. It's part of the business, so we deal with it. Jack's different."

Kim finally found a wig that fit Brittany. A platinum blonde hairpiece cut into a short, straight bob. Placing it gently on Brittany's head, Kim saw that it was perfect for her. When she put the sunglasses on her, Kim sat back on her heels in admiration.

"Oh, my god."

"What?" Brittany asked, alarmed.

"You! The guys are going to eat you alive, right after they blow their wads. I can't believe the transformation. I mean, some girls either look totally different with new color and shades, sophisticated or even innocent looking, but you...oh my god! I should tell Munch to get you some spiked heels and a riding crop. You can be our little pixie Dominatrix."

Brittany isn't sure whether Kim's lavish praise for her looks is genuine, but she blushed just the same.

Kim continued to fuss with the wig, getting it just right, while saying absentmindedly, "They are going to eat you alive." Getting the hair just the way she liked it, Kim smiled while making her eyes go wide, "Alive!" Then she punctuated her exclamation by kissing Brittany full on the mouth.

Not prepared for Kim's advances, Brittany tightened her lips against the kiss.

Kim sat back on her heels, and commented, "Oh, wow, you've never been with a girl before."

Nervous, and slightly embarrassed having to admit it, Brittany just shook her head.

"Don't worry honey," Kim said, soothingly, "With all these guys here, I doubt Munch is going to want to do too many lesbo scenes, if any at all. Tell you what, though, if it comes up, I'll just go down on you, okay. You don't have to worry about paying me back. Well, at least for now." Kim winked and giggled at her private joke before continuing, "But if you're going to stay in the business, you're going to have to learn to munch a rug, if you know what I mean. Munch a rug for Munch, we girls call it. It's expected of us, so we deal with it. Besides, most times it's kind of fun, and the guys really get off watching us."

Kim kissed her again in a show of womanly camaraderie, and this time Brittany kept her lips supple to Kim's advances.

"Nervous?"

"How could you tell?" Brittany answered with sarcasm.

Kim giggled, "Okay, stupid question, but there's no reason for it. You've been with a guy before, right. You did all sorts of things with him, right. Well, same thing here, only there're just more of them."

"Yeah, but..."

"I know it's scary. Your ass is hanging out a mile, and everyone's going to see it and see what you do with it. But, here's the thing, you've got to ignore all that. You've got to ignore the lights, and the camera, and everyone else on the set. Then you've got to dig way down deep inside of yourself and pull out that inner slut of yours. Everyone has one, even you. She's your ace-in-the-hole, baby. She's the one that drives the guys wild. Remember, no matter how many guys there are, or what they want you to do, you've got the true power. It's hard to believe, but you do. Your looks can melt a guy's heart and make him hard all at the same time, while your inner slut turns his head into jelly. With the right amount of sass and a little pussy, honey, you can make them do whatever you want."

Kim could see that Brittany still wasn't sure. In fact, it looked like she was about to throw up. Kim put her arms around her. Hugging Brittany tightly to console her, she said, "I know it sucks right now. You're a lot like me. You need the money. Believe me, no one does this shit because they like it. Well, some do, but not many. We do it for the money. Shit, I'm getting five large for this shoot. There's no way I can make that kind of coin in two hours on the street, let alone doing some nine to five schlep work. So, keep thinking about the money, okay? The money and a long, hot shower make it all right in the end."

Brittany didn't have the heart to tell Kim she was getting ten large, but only because Munch owed Jack favors. For some reason it settled her nerves knowing that Jack, in his own twisted way, was looking out for her. Sure, he was turning her into a porn slut, but he was still looking out for her and getting the best deal he could for her.