Courtney Crowe

The younger brother grimaced and stopped stroking himself. "Can you..." He pointed at the TV.

Probably some porn star he likes better than me, Courtney thought. "Am I not your type?"

"No, you're hot, I just... look at the TV, okay?"

Courtney blinked again, then turned around. She raised an eyebrow. Henry was watching gay porn! Whoa. She knew Giselle and some of the other girls at Inequity liked such things, but she wasn't a big fan. Henry was, and that might mean... "Are you...?"

"Yeah," Henry sighed. "Sorry. My family doesn't know. They wouldn't like it if they did. I... I plan to get my MBA, then move to Friscoe. I haven't told anyone. Well, this one girl from your club knows. She's Asian, dyed red hair, starts with a G..."

"Giselle?" Courtney asked. She had to adapt quickly. She hadn't thought of this possibility. Fortunately, this wasn't her first time meeting a gay man.

"Yeah, that's her name." Henry smiled. "She's watched this stuff with me a few times, you can too if you like. Or let me finish and then I'll..."

Drive me home? No, that would not happen. He was close to the same state as his brother. Courtney could tell that. Okay, good, all was proceeding as she had foreseen. Grinning, she put her hand on her hip. "You sure, honey?" she interrupted Henry, smacking her lips playfully and starting to raise her blouse. She would dance for Henry too like she had for Roger, if necessary. "You sure I'm not what you want?"

"Maybe, but..." He shook his head. "I... I like them better." He pointed at the TV set.

You should tell your brother you're gay, Courtney thought. He was nice enough to take you out, get you a girl, and if it's happened more than twice like you said earlier... maybe he doesn't feel about what you are like you're afraid he does. Oh well, your fear works better for my plans anyway. I appreciate it!

She stepped aside and let Henry watch the adult film. "It's okay, honey. Have fun. I'll get ready to go." She then enacted another tactic. "Hey, has your brother ever used drugs?"

"What? Yeah, he has. I told him to stop. Did he...?"

"He may have put something in the wine," Courtney said. "I'm not sure. I'm just a little... I'm okay, don't worry."

"Okay. Well, if you feel bad, I..."

"Just finish, honey, okay?" Courtney prompted him, pointing at the TV screen and his groin. She then dropped the condom on the table beside the couch. "Hey, if you want, jack off into that. I can tell your brother you got me. I'll make it convincing."

"Thanks, that'd be great. Giselle did the same thing."

She had? Excellent! Courtney left the room, hoping he would follow through. He was already unwrapping the condom and resuming his masturbation, so it looked likely.

She grabbed her purse and went back into the bedroom, looked around. Roger was still out. Good. Courtney put on a pair of surgical gloves from her purse and pondered her next stratagem. She waited a moment, listening. Henry was gasping, then coming, judging by his cries. She heard him moan rapidly, then snore. Phew! The cocktail she'd put in the wine was working like she hoped. The molly was making them all horny, and the ecstasy she'd added would soon make them pass out. Good. The Rohypnol would further scramble their memories, too. All would work in her favor. Time to enact the next part of her plan.

She rolled up her blouse, then took a flick knife out of her purse and opened it after wiping down the weapon on her blouse. She cut a few lines across each of her breasts, not too deep, just enough to make the damage clear. Again, she ignored the pain from the violent act. It did not matter. Her reward was worth the price.

After cutting herself adequately, she placed the knife against Roger's hand, got his prints on it. The gloves and how she was touching the handle would prevent her prints from being on the knife. Good.

Courtney dropped the knife, walked back into the sitting room. Henry was out, awesome! She humped him a bit, got her sweat on his body and her lipstick on his neck. Both were necessary for her plan. She could claim they were part of the lie for his brother too, if Henry woke up. But he didn't. Good.

She moved off him and grabbed the knife, placed it against Henry's hand too to get his prints on it. Uncertainty was her friend. She then left the knife beside Henry on the couch. That too was necessary.

She stripped her gloves off next, flushed them down the bathroom's toilet. She flushed a few extra times for emphasis.

She considered taking more money from the Swift brothers' wallets. No, they had tipped her enough earlier and taking everything wasn't smart. Stick to the plan, Courtney reminded herself, and don't get too crazy. Stuckey warned you about that. She pondered for a moment, then proceeded with her decisions. Just a few more parts of her plan to go in the immediate circumstances.

First, she drank a bit more of the drugged wine, let it settle into her. Soon it was making her head swim. Good. Then she quickly retrieved her phone and sent Moe the text she had typed earlier. Best to have a white knight coming to get her, just in case. He'd help her with the cops, that would be awesome. She considered telling him about the plan, what she wanted to happen. No, it would be better if he didn't know, just like Stuckey's lady lawyer friend. That was best. She might not have time to tell him, anyway.

She waited a few more minutes, rehearsed her lines, then dialed three digits. An operator soon answered.

"911, what is your emergency?"

"I n-need the p-police!" Courtney stammered. "Two men r-raped me! One has a knife. T-they put me on drugs! I..."

"I understand, ma'am. Are you safe? Are they?"

"They passed out, I..."

"Okay, ma'am. I'll get the police and EMS to you. Where are you?"

Good! The operator was believing Courtney. Society was conditioned to believe women about what she was doing, believe victims in general, and that worked in her favor. Courtney was good enough an actress to make the operator believe her. She hoped she could make the cops and Moe think the same thing when they arrived. Stuckey would help later.

"D-doubletree Hotel," she gave her location. "B-by the a-airport." She gave the room number. "I'm okay, just a little f-frazzled... oh shit, I think t-they're waking up! Shit!" She hung up the phone, paying no attention to the operator's protest.

She then reviewed the plan as she laid down in the doorway between the sitting room and the bedroom, rehearsing her testimony and proper attitude. The wine bottle still had enough fluid in it for drug tests and both her patsies had the same chemicals in their bodies. So did she. And she had placed her bruises and knife marks, plus the knife and the prints on it, just as Stuckey had suggested. The drugs and the violence would make the crime worse even though she had agreed to go to the hotel with the men. She would submit to the rape kit when the police asked, it would help. The drugs, her suggestions, Stuckey as the designated driver for the questioning... it would all work. It had to.

Soon the scandal she and Stuckey had planned would further take shape. These two poor fools who savaged her would be accused of sexual assault. Courtney would be praised for her courage, believed. It would be terrible that people would try to shame her for lying, but she was ready for the possibility. Stuckey had prepared her. He would help her soon with further coaching. So would his lady lawyer friend, a fellow prosecutor at the local DA's office. Courtney recalled her name. Emily Johnson Cartwright, nicknamed "Fire Woman". She was a crusader against sexual assault and drug-assisted crimes, Stuckey had told Courtney, once a victim of both herself. The DA's office didn't care about the bias she had against rape offenders. Common wisdom was that such things helped prosecutors do their jobs, and juries too. It would help Courtney also, further enable her plans. She would play up her victim status, force a speedy trial with Stuckey and the unknowing Fire Woman's assistance. The courts would help, they'd have to do that. The plan would proceed accordingly.

First Courtney would see the Swift brothers, the men who had hurt her, put away for their crimes. Then she would sue their family for emotional distress, aided by another lawyer friend of Stuckey who was not in on their criminal plans. Hopefully, if all went well, she'd have millions to her name when all was finished.

She'd then keep stripping, even though she didn't have to. It was fun. The crime was the crime, her reaction would not matter. She'd just fake being a victim long enough to make the cops and the jury in both criminal and civil trials believe her. Then she'd go back to what she was doing before. She had enough of a reputation that Timmy or any other man in the industry would gladly hire her. Society was conditioned to always honor and believe women, even soiled doves. Yes!

The forensics, the cops, everyone else necessary would support her, and she would be ready for the non-supporters. They would have sympathy for her, one and all. And her victims... patsies!... would help with their confusion and anger at each other. The drugs, the violence... all would work in her favor. Stuckey would help arrange and present evidence accordingly. Salome and Giselle might be problems... but no, that was surely not possible. Her sisters would do as she hoped, their biased conditioning would be her ally. Same for Moe, Timmy, and any other unknowing man involved in the situation. The Swift brothers too- the suggestion that both had been responsible was already in play. Courtney could think of no way things would not go as they had planned. Relax, she told herself. Relax!

Courtney grinned as she heard a siren approaching. Soon, she thought, glad she was starting to feel drowsy from the drugs she had consumed. Soon. She closed her eyes and prepared her conscience, ready for what would happen next.

Succubus, was her final thought before she passed out. Timmy called me that earlier. And that's my nature. I am the scorpion that stings the frog.

***

End Notes- The characters in this story are not meant as hate sinks, merely a cautionary realistic depiction of characters based on people I have known. Their emotions and actions are written to fit the story. Courtney and Stuckey are the only ones I consider truly evil. Henry, Roger, and other characters are making mistakes, in my opinion, but they are not bad people, just misguided. Please also note that this is not meant as a depiction of any particular similar case, real or fictional. Each crime should be judged on its own merits, totality of circumstances. That's what I was taught as a police academy honor graduate.

If characters of this nature are not your thing, you are encouraged to seek another story rather than shame this one. You, the reader, are also encouraged to beware people like the villains of this story, but not enable them. Honesty, honor, awareness, and following the law are good policies. I hope real life experiences similar to this story will remain rare.