Ten Little Bimbos Ch. 01

Rena grinned at Aubrey's dour observation. "I'm sure it's delightful. Certainly quiet and relaxing, no doubt."

Phillip chuckled as he guided the ferry toward the dock. "Don't you girls worry none," he said. "That thar resort has all the trimmings a lassie could want. You'll be supping like queens soon 'nuff."

"That's comforting to know," said Aubrey.

*****

Hannah Evens fluttered the feather-duster over the windowsill, careful not to smudge her clean maid's uniform. Her tight black dress with the white trim and apron only hinted at its French maid uniform lineage, but it remained form-fitting and revealing in subtle ways. Although the collared V-neck did little to show off her modest breasts, the belt of her apron displayed her small waist to good effect.

Her chore finished, she stepped back from the window. Then the blonde maid turned and said, "Tori...the boat's arrived."

There was silence for a moment. Then footsteps approached and suddenly Hannah's supervisor Tori Parker was in the room.

Six feet tall and even taller in her heels, the dark-haired Tori locked eyes with Hannah.

"About fucking time the ferry got here," said Tori. "I guess the pilot put his beer down long enough to steer the fucking boat. Now, are you sure everything is ready? Every room has clean sheets? Fresh towels? Plenty of ice available for drinks?"

Hannah shrugged. "Yeah."

There was silence for a moment. Then Tori stepped forward and wrapped her hand around Hannah's throat. She pushed the maid against the wall, then leaned forward and put her lips next to Hannah's ear.

"You know," said Tori, "I'm positive you forgot to finish that sentence."

Hannah licked her lips and took a shuddering breath. Then she released the breath.

"Everything is absolutely ready..." said Hannah, adding a vibrant quality to the word. Then she added, "...Mistress."

Tori licked Hannah's ear, then released the maid's throat. "Good girl," she said. "But I still think I'll have to discipline you later."

Hannah gave a demur look toward the floor. "Of course, Mistress. Bad girls should be punished."

Tori offered an ice-cold smile that didn't touch her eyes. "Indeed they should, girl. Indeed they should. Now get ready to greet our guests."

Tori turned and left the room.

Hannah watched Tori leave. She smiled. One day soon you'll be getting yours, 'Mistress'.

*****

Tori strode toward the back of the resort, her business-like stride making short work of the distance. Moments later she was in the kitchen.

The resort manager glanced around, then shook her head in exasperation.

"Eric!" she said. Then she raised her voice and said again, "ERIC!"

A trim, brown-haired man with movie-star good looks entered the kitchen from the opposite door. "Yeah...?"

"The guests are here, Eric," she said. "There's nothing ready!"

A blank look of confusion settled on Eric's face. "Well...yeah, I know. I mean, lunch isn't going to be served for another couple hours..."

Tori threw up her hands. "This is a resort, you nimrod! There has to be something here for them to nibble on after arriving on a boat! This is a quality service establishment, remember?"

Eric opened his mouth, then closed it. Then he said, "Good point. Sorry. I wasn't thinking."

Tori opened her mouth to say something else, then apparently changed her mind. Finally she sighed, stepped forward and lay her hand against Eric Parker's cheek.

"You're lucky you're so pretty. Good thing I didn't marry you for of your brains. Mama will let this one go, okay? But you need to think, sweetie. Now whip together some snacks and drinks for our guests, okay, pet?"

Eric nodded. "Sure thing, luv. I'll do it quick, just like you said."

Tori smiled. "That's fine, sweetie. Do a good job and I'll see you get rewarded later, okay?"

Eric's face brightened. "Of course, luv. I'm on it."

Tori turned and strode toward the lobby, trying not to roll her eyes. The things she had to put up with to get the things she wanted.

The struggle was real.

*****

The guests gathered their bags and made their way off the dock and up to the resort. Because of the natural slope of the landscape, the guests were feeling somewhat breathless by the time they made it inside the resort.

They set down their bags and sat in the large, overstuffed couches that filled the lobby. Then Tori entered the room and addressed the guests.

"Good morning," said the tall woman. "Welcome to Beau Island Resort. My name is Tori Parker and I'm the manager. You are the first set of guests to arrive here in several years, so please forgive any lapses you may find in service or setting. We are still in the process of staffing the resort, but we will strive to make sure your stay is a pleasant experience in every way."

The guests stirred slightly. "I'm sorry," said Dr. Lin, "but did you just say this hotel has been closed for years and has no staff?"

Tori shook her head. "Not quite as such, Dr. Lin. I mean, yes, this hotel has been closed for years, but we are open now and fully staffed. Or rather, we will be when the rest of the staff arrive. We did expect them today, but as they didn't arrive with you on the boat, I expect they'll be here tomorrow with the other guests."

"I see," said Dr. Lin, although she didn't appear convinced. "Are you the only one here?"

Tori laughed. "Of course not, Dr. Lin. My husband Eric is a top-rated chef and he's in charge of the kitchen. Paul Straight here traveled on the ferry with you- he's in charge of our security. And Hannah is our domestic specialist in charge of keeping your rooms tidy. If you have any issues with her performance, please bring them to my attention. I assure you any problems will be addressed immediately."

Aubrey looked slightly angry. "Closed for years?" she said. "Their website doesn't say that. In fact, their website makes it look as if they've been a busy, bustling hotel with reservations being required weeks or months in advance."

Tori nodded. "I noticed that as well," she said. "and you're correct- it needs to be addressed immediately. I don't know at this time who handles Mister Beau's marketing, but I'll remind him that the website requires an immediate update."

"Mister Beau?"

Tori nodded again. "Mister Beau owns this resort," she said. "Benjamin Ian-Merigold Beau."

Sam Morton laughed. "Quite the mouthful," he said. "Doesn't sound at all like a muckity-muck, right? Anyway, I'm sure we'll all be fine with the service, Miss Parker. Meanwhile, I'm sure everyone would like to see their rooms now and perhaps shower before lunch?"

Tori smiled. "You're right, of course, Mr. Morton. If you will all follow me, I'll lead you to your individual rooms."

*****

The guests were shown to their chambers, where they began unpacking and relaxing in their own ways, while the employees returned to their various duties. But their thoughts were a jumble of anxiety and excitement.

"She bought it. I think she bought it. But I'll need to play it carefully from here."

"He's a bad one. I can tell just by looking at him. I'll watch him for now. Watch now, act later."

"It can't be a coincidence. I don't believe in coincidence. Well, I'm on to her. I've got her right where I want her."

"I'm a bad boy. Such a bad boy. She'll punish me for sure."

"Well, time to get this show on the road."

"She's here. And it's time to teach her a lesson."

"Something's wrong. This whole setup stinks. Where the hell's my contact?"

"This can be a profitable weekend if I play my cards right. I just have to be careful. Really careful. The security guy doesn't look like much, but that doesn't mean anything. Rent-a-cop? Maybe. Maybe not."

"I'm finally here. And I deserve this. I deserve everything I'm going to get. It's only a matter of time."

Ten strangers on an island in the middle of nowhere, unpacking clothes, relaxing, preparing for a normal lunch.

*****

The six guests- and Paul, the security specialist- sat down for lunch. There was initially silence as everyone worked on their salads. But slowly the low murmur of conversation pushed the lowkey silence into the quiet corners of the room, where it would remain out-of-the-way, but accessible when needed.

Rena took a bite of her salad, then said, "It's a bit more remote than I anticipated, but it would seem Beau Resort has much to offer. The rooms seem quite comfortable."

McKatt shrugged. "It's a room," she said.

Dr. Lin took a bite of salad. "It will suffice," she said.

The table went quiet again, so Aubrey said, "Owning a strip club must feel like living the dream for you, Mr. Morton."

Sam laughed. "You would think so, right? But most nights it's simply business as usual."

Rena smiled. "As a student of the human condition, Mr. Morton, I feel compelled to ask as to the oddest thing you've seen during your time as a club owner."

Sam said, "Call me Sam. My dad was Mr. Morton. As for the strangest thing I've seen? Hmmm. Hard to say. You get a real collection of berks at a strip club, I can tell you, so picking just one ain't easy."

"No one thing stands out?" said Joan.

"Well," said Sam, "there was the time I hired this girl Juliette to dance for my club. Pretty little thing, she was. What the dame doesn't tell me, though, is that she's as epileptic as the day is long."

"What's wrong with that?" said Joan. "Why would epilepsy stop a girl from dancing? You seriously discriminate against a girl because of a medical condition?"

"Not at all," said Sam. "They can roll onstage in a wheelchair, for all I care, as long as they're pulling in the customers. I don't give a fuck. The problem with Juliette, though, is that the stage lights wreaked fucking havoc with the part of her brain that contained the epilepsy or whatever."

"The lights?"

"Yep," said Sam, taking a drink. "She went out there, shook her ass for about thirty seconds and then fell down on the stage twitching and jerking like crazy."

"Grand mal seizure," said Dr. Lin.

"Exactly," said Sam. "It's crazy. Nelly's singing about how hot it is, strobe lights are going off and Juliette's seizing all over the place."

"Good heavens," said Rena. "What did you do?"

"Do?" said Sam. "I didn't do anything. She was making a fortune in tips. She was jerking around so hard, everyone thought she was playing with herself. Why would I interfere with a girl making money ass over pussy?"

There was awestruck silence for several heartbeats. Paul smothered a laugh behind his hand. At last Joan said, "Are you being serious?"

Sam took another bite of salad. "Of course I am!" he said. "The girl's gotta eat, don't she? I did have to fire her, though. The last thing I needed was another workers comp lawsuit. I remember when Kimyotta got bit on the ass. Cost me a fucking fortune."

Elizabeth looked up from her phone. "You realize you're managing to set records for appalling vileness, right?"

Sam chuckled easily. "A man's got to strive for something, darlin'."

Elizabeth shook her head. "I cannot believe that women allow themselves to be used as toys in an establishment run by a pig. They deserve what they get."

"Are you jealous, honey?" said Sam. "I'll give you a job if you want one. A pretty thing like you could make some serious bank. Of course, if you were willing to do more than just dance, you could make a real killing."

Elizabeth smiled. "You're an abrasive letch, Morton, but you're amusing."

"Letch?" said Dr. Lin. "Less than a letch. You should be an artist, Mr. Morton. You should be displaying those lovely bodies as works of art, but instead you present them in a manner furthering your own base male desires. A letch? Less a letch and more a waste."

Sam looked at the doctor in surprise. "You sound quite passionate, doctor."

Dr. Lin smiled at Sam in a manner that gave him chills. "Passionate, Mr. Morton? Of course I'm passionate. What is life without passion?" The Asian woman leaned forward then, her eyes suddenly alive. "I could make you beautiful, Mr. Morton. More beautiful than you deserve. And perhaps...perhaps one day I will."

Tori, Eric and Hannah began serving lunch at that moment, saving the guests from further conversation.

*****

Lunch was successful. None of the guests appeared to have any complaints. Even the dour Dr. Lin appeared satisfied.

Rena said to Tori, "Your husband appears to be quite the artist in the kitchen, Mrs. Parker."

Tori gave a slight smile. "He's even more than that, Miss Lacke. Do not be surprised if you turn on your television one day soon and see Eric's face."

"Oh?"

Tori nodded. "Yes," she said. "In fact, one of the guests arriving tomorrow will be interviewing Eric about potentially hosting a cooking show."

"My goodness," said Rena. "That's wonderful. You must be so proud."

"Proud?" thought Tori. "We fucking deserve it. I fucking deserve it. Fuck proud."

Tori offered another professional smile. "Oh, yes," she said. "Quite proud."

A light dessert was brought out for those who wanted one. Coffee and tea was served, as well as wine and beverages. Hannah took a short break and Eric left the kitchen to mingle with the guests. The guests were relaxed and even the employees appeared to be enjoying themselves.

And then a voice rang out: "LADIES AND GENTLEMAN. YOUR ATTENTION, PLEASE."

Everyone looked around. No one could place the voice or where it was coming from. It sounded like it was coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

The voice continued.

"You are charged with the following indictments:

"Elizabeth Besting, that you brought about the corruption and downfall of sorority applicant Chloe Carlton.

"Hannah Evens, that you willfully and intentionally brought about the bimbification of Lady Victoria Carrigan.

"Paul Jaiston, that you did willfully and intentionally bimbify co-workers Sharon Abrell and Kyle Downs.

"Rena Lacke, that you did willfully and intentionally organize and profit from a sex ring involving a number of your unknowing clients.

"Doctor Cara Lin, that you did intentionally and maliciously trick numerous men into permanent body-changing surgery.

"Joan McKatt, that you brought about the gender-change and corruption of internal affairs agent William Cordon.

"Sam Morton, that you did bring about the bimbification and slutification of numerous women to work at your establishment.

"Eric and Tori Parker, that you did willfully and intentionally bring about the bimbification of rival Abigail Tassel.

"Professor Aubrey Rush, that you are guilty of leading six graduate students into the hands of a Chrystal Mountains tribe and then leaving them so that you could escape.

"Prisoners at the bar, have you anything to say in your defense?"

*****

There was thunderstruck silence for a moment after the voice stopped. Then everyone began talking at once.

"What the hell was that?!"

"Fucking outrageous!"

"Who's idea of a joke is this?!"

Most of the guests were on their feet now, looking around. Paul looked furious and was running his fingers around the picture frames.

Tori held up her hands. "Everyone, can we please have order? Everyone, order please. Order."

The chaos continued unabated, with everyone trying to speak at once.

Tori reached over and picked up a dessert plate. Then she casually smashed it on the table.

There was an immediate silence.

"Thank you," said Tori. "First, I apologize for this occurrence. Please understand that this is in no way the work of Beau Resort. In fact, this nasty prank appears to be aimed at our employees as well as the guests."

"Lies!" said Hannah, her eyes slightly unfocused. "It was a lie! I never did a thing to that woman! They had no right to accuse me of-"

"Stop that immediately, Hannah," said Tori, giving the maid a stern look. "This is not the time for hysterics."

Hannah's eyes became more glazed. "S-sorry, Mistress. Sorry."

The guests looked at each other in half-surprise, half-amused.

Sam snickered. "Mistress, eh? So that's the way it is here?"

Tori gave Sam a withering look. "Don't be tiresome, Mr. Morton. I will not even dignify that with an answer."

Then Joan McKatt turned to Tori. The black detective had said little during the ensuing chaos, but now she appeared ready to engage.

"While I agree that the state of the resort chain of command amongst your staffing is not a concern at the moment, I do have a question about your staff in context of the recording we just heard."

Tori met Joan's stare with an equally icy expression of her own. "I don't think we should even consider that recording relevant, Miss McKatt."

"Perhaps we should," said McKatt, unmoved by Tori's glare. "You say your staff is not responsible, but I see an inconsistency that should be addressed...assuming, of course, you don't wish us to hold you and your staff responsible for the list of slander we were just subject to."

Tori held her glare a moment longer. Then she said, "Miss McKatt, please make your point."

"Gladly," said Joan. Then she turned and pointed at Paul, who was still running his fingers over the objects in the room. "You earlier identified your security man as Paul Straight. However, there was no Paul Straight mentioned in the recording. There was, however, a Paul Jaiston listed amongst the accused. So maybe you could explain the discrepancy?"

Angry eyes turned toward Paul. Tori took a step forward, as did Sam and Joan.

"Well, Paul?" said Tori. "Perhaps you have something to tell us? Or do I turn you over to the angry guests?"

Paul held up his hands, palms up. "Thanks for the support, Tori," he said, cutting the resort manager a hostile, narrow-eyed glare. "But yeah, Paul Jaiston referred to me. The old me, anyway. There was an...incident...I wanted to put behind me, so I changed my name. Legally. That's all there is to it."

Joan looked at Tori. "Did you even check his references? Don't you check out your employees before you hire them?"

Tori turned away from Paul and looked at McKatt. "I wasn't responsible for hiring Paul. Or for hiring anyone, for that matter. Mister Beau did all the hiring."

Joan nodded. "I see," she said. She turned back to Paul. "Convenient name change for you, wasn't it? Because I remember reading about an incident at Blonde Concepts involving a Paul Jaiston. An incident where two other employees were turned into sex-obsessed bimbos."

"Fine," said Paul. "Yes, that was me, all right? I was just a security guard there. But the charge was a bad rap. I caught those two trying to steal supplies. When they realized they couldn't talk their way out of it and that I couldn't be bought, they tried to wipe out my intelligence. It was a fight that could have gone either way, but I got lucky."

Sam had a skeptical expression. "Wow. So you were totally motivated by loyalty to your employer and doing the upstanding thing, right?"

Paul gave Sam a look. "Your sarcasm is hysterical, pal. No, I wasn't motivated by loyalty to my employer or doing the right thing. I was motivated by a desire to keep my fucking brains, all right, asshole?"

Sam snorted. "Don't get pissed off with me, Sparky. I'm not the one who got caught working under a fake name."

Hannah giggled.

"Whatever," said Paul. "Anyway, long story short, Blonde Concepts didn't want the publicity, so they decided not to press charges. I was offered the chance to resign to avoid a black mark on my record, so I took it. The episode made the papers, thought, so I changed my name to avoid Blonde Concepts' competitors pursuing me for information."