Trevor
Keywords: Trevor,
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something, anything to explain her mysterious absence. She was certain her aunt and cousin must be frantic by now, wondering what had happened to the girl. She did call in the morning before she went to sleep, when she knew no one would be home. She left a message on the answering machine, saying she was fine and not to worry. She didn't dare call when someone would be home. She knew she would break down and tell them something she shouldn't, and she didn't know if she was still being watched. She wasn't too worried about what might happen to her; she was a big girl and could take care of herself. She was more worried about what the mysterious "Syd" might do to them. Even though she suspected Evelyn might have some connection with "Syd" - maybe she even knew him - she couldn't take that chance with her new family's safety.
Weeks passed. The weeks turned into months. Sugar had long since paid off her initial debt to the mysterious "Syd" and started making really cute money. She expanded her wardrobe almost as much as her stable of 'regulars'. Her entry on EEN had become the most responded to of all the girls listed. She had also achieved the singular distinction of being immortalized in the stalls of the men's rooms at both Elysium and Empire; "For a real good time, call Sugar at 555-3825". The curvaceous cumslut had turned such fabulous numbers for Syd's organization, she now had a standing reservation for The Rail's Imperial Suite any night she chose to work. The night manager had made her laugh one night by hanging a little sign on the door: "Sugar's Shack".
In addition to the split taken by Syd's organization, she made regular payoffs to Jim Calder and Tom Bowen in cash and 'trade'. She knew how to take care of the men who took care of her. They did take care of her, driving by her corner several times a night, chatting and making sure she was all right. It was kinda like one of her favorite movies: Someone To Watch Over Me. If Tom Berenger's 'Detective Mike Keegan' had been on the take.... Then again, Mimi Rogers had nothing on her.
She happened to glance at a calendar one chilly January evening as she was preparing to step out the door to go to work. She realized the school year was already half over. She wondered why that should matter to her; she had dropped out of school long ago, when she first began hooking in U.C. Her cousin Sharon had put off college for a year; Sugar didn't know why. Maybe she was just burnt out at the end of high school. Anyway, she should be knee-deep in the paperwork preparing for college by now. Perhaps that is why it had come to mind. Sharon might be a little out of it, style-wise, but she was a sweet kid. Would she be going to college next year? Sugar hoped so, and wished her well. As for herself, Sugar was superbly content with who, what, and where she was at that moment in her life.
She was different now, having grown – physically and mentally – from the naïve 'Shauna' from Union City to the scintillating, seductive 'Sugar', the Toast of Taylor Street. To be sure, it was a much smaller 'pond' than New York/New Jersey, but she had become a big fish in it. True, the cops had cut her off from family, friends, and her 'husband', turned her out to whore for them and their mysterious boss, and used her as their personal fucktoy. They had shown her a copy of her updated rap sheet, listing convictions for solicitation, prostitution, sodomy, deviant sexual behavior, even corrupting the morals of a minor ("Hey, the guy brought his son; what was I supposed to do?"). All the 'cases' had been adjudicated by the same judge - a "regular" she had been set up with by Calder and Bowen. For all the judgments rendered against her, she had never once been arrested, let along been to court. Why go through the formality and expense of a trial, they reasoned, when she was guilty of all those crimes and more?
She was still being watched, they advised. She was too valuable a 'commodity' to be allowed out of their grasp. Don't tell anyone where you are, they continued to admonish. Don't ask them to come and get you. People disappeared in Aurora all the time. Why, in the last nine months alone, six current or former Varsity lettermen from Aurora Central High School AND the school's Principal had vanished without a trace. People suspected everything from a gay sex scandal to alien abductions. They just didn't know. (Something deep inside the slut had welcomed the news, relished it. She couldn't, for the life of her, fathom why.)
If she left town, her 'resume' would be faxed to any and every law enforcement jurisdiction in the region and, if necessary, the nation. Everyone would know what a sleaze she was. Sugar wouldn't be able to get 'honest work' anywhere, ever again, so she might as well be content with staying right where she was and hooking for them.
The hussy reflected upon her life as it had become. She was on a first-name basis with every bartender, bouncer, hostess, waitress, dancer, and hooker on Taylor Street. Every 'regular' knew her on sight, if not personally. If there was a party, she was invited to it. She didn't walk the streets as much as she had in the beginning; she didn't have to. The men were seeking her out. The Imperial Suite had all but become her 'Throne Room' where she reigned supreme – at Syd's sufferance, of course. She had fucked more men than she could remember, much less count, of every race and description, fucked them until every one of her orifices oozed their cum. Within her 'universe', she was a star.
Was it that bad? Was the prospect of 'honest work' so much better, she hated the thought she would be unable to return to it? Had her little job processing records at the hospital been so rewarding, so fulfilling, she would give all of this up in a heartbeat and go running back to it? No, but she did miss her husband - a lot.
Sugar needed a man then, needed one very badly. Why settle for one when she could have two at once? She waited impatiently on the corner for them to make their regular pass. The harlot literally flung herself through the open car window to get at her intended prize. By the time they pulled up in front of her motel room, her unpantied snatch was pointed high in the air and at Jim Calder's face, while Tom Bowen was unbelted, unfastened, unzipped, and unleashed into her mouth.
Sugar unlocked the door and ushered her two paramours inside quickly. She flung the door shut, threw Calder backward against it, and raped his mouth with her insistent tongue. She had his stiff, throbbing man-meat out of its cloth prison in moments and ministered to it with long, frantic strokes of her hand. At the same moment, Tom Bowen was filling her snatch beyond full from behind with his monster dong.
They each spasmed, but the whore was nowhere near satisfied. She grabbed her two lovers by their lapels and hurled all three of them onto the bed. Sugar alternately fucked and fellated each man over two hours, bringing each to a shattering climax, then making him hard again while the other hammered away at her shemale cunny. It ended when neither man was able to get it up anymore. Their cum gushed all over the sheets from her cornholed snatch. Whatever spunk she had not swallowed dribbled from the corners of her mouth. She had cum more times than she could possibly count – and the slut was content.
"Nicely done."
A lamp clicked on, illuminating the shadowy corner of the room. Evelyn Rossi sat there, a flute of champagne steadied in one hand, a coy smirk on her lips. Sugar's heart pounded. The exhausted girl could do little more than speak to her amused aunt.
"You were here? How much did you see?"
"Every urgent thrust. You were magnificent, Sweetie. Gentlemen, would you please give us the room for a few minutes?"
Calder and Bowen dressed hurriedly and exited. Evelyn continued.
"I was never better, even in my prime."
"YOU?"
The breathtaking blonde stood and strutted casually to her stepdaughter's side. She paused there, caressing the cum-soaked slut's cheek.
"Of course. That's why The Family sent me here. They knew I knew the business inside and out. With their help, I solicited the right 'cooperation' from the right people, then built the facilities and set the machinery in motion."
Sugar just stared at her, requiring a moment to fully comprehend the import of her words.
"You... are... Syd?"
Evelyn beamed.
"None other. You don't think we could have lived as comfortably as we do on a hospital administrator's salary, do you? That was a convenient 'cover' I adopted later on. In the beginning, I was just a 'working girl' with a head for the business. They let me bring my favorite girls with me, too; just to get things started. But you already know about that."
The confused cumslut stared blankly.
"I do?"
"Yes, Sweetheart. Your mother was one of them."
"My... mother? But she is back in...."
"No, Baby, she isn't. Your mama was Nora Brennan. Sharon is your sister. For the past seven years, I have raised the two of you as my own daughters. Think back. There was a little girl name Shauna once."
Sugar's head spun with conflicting images. She could see Union City so clearly... well, no she really couldn't anymore, but she knew she had lived there, and her mother... she couldn't see her mother's face. But she could see the beautiful red-headed woman whose name had been Nora. That face looked so much like her own. She could see Sharon's face, too. But she had glimpses of a much younger Sharon, and that couldn't be, because Sugar had been there, in New Jersey, and Sharon had been here. But... Sugar had been here, too, except she was 'Shauna' then. They had grown up together in Evelyn's house. But she had also had a brother named....
The girl's sudden spasm was clearly visible. It was all there. Her childhood. Her mother. Her sister. The happiness. Then, the blood - and all that came after. She wrapped her arms around herself then, trembling like a leaf. In seconds, Sugar - no, Shauna - ran through the gamut of emotions from confusion, to awareness, to anger, to reflection, but not quite all the way to understanding.
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Keywords: Trevor,